Hektor smiled. "That's almost word for word how The Chairman put it."

"I don't suppose he has a solution."

"Yes, as a matter of fact, he does." The room perked up. "I think that I can tell you now. The Chairman has had a plan for quite a while now. I've just been implementing it. He knows how hard you've all been working, and will continue to work, but it has been to a purpose."

"About fucking time," exclaimed Janet. "What do you need?"

"Well," answered Hektor, "the board will have to authorize a stock purchase of about one billion credits."

Silence.

"We're going to bribe him?" asked Accounting, whose signature and DNA sample would ultimately rest on the large request.

"In a manner of speaking," said Hektor. He gave the board just enough information to make them realize the stakes being played and with whose blessings.

After getting the board to approve The Chairman's plan, Hektor began to think about the best time to spring his trap on Justin. He filtered out the noise of the back-and-forth arguments, and went back to imagining what Justin's face would look like the moment he realized he'd been checkmated. His only regret was that he couldn't be a fly on the wall for that moment. Give nano another hundred years Give nano another hundred years, he half joked to himself. He noticed that Janet was the first one out of the boardroom. She was on her way back to Manny Black, of course. At first moving him into her security apartment seemed like an invitation to a gross conflict of interest. But the more Janet was with Manny the less Manny was with Justin, so Hektor had kept his peace.

A loud, piercing alarm broke his reverie. Before he could blink, three massive titanium doors at the boardroom's entrance made a rapid descent from the ceiling to the floor, hitting the marble with such ferocity that Hektor was surprised the doors hadn't kept on going into the floors below. He managed to look over toward the doors, only to see the shock on Janet's face as the large steel doors cut her off from the boardroom. Next came the unmistakable hiss of airlocks springing to action. The room had been sealed, and now the most powerful group of individuals in the solar system, sans their Legal representative, was effectively trapped in the top story of the world's tallest building. If they knew what was going on just outside their well-sealed environs they would've thanked their lucky stars.

Hektor remained calm, believing now more than ever it was his job to do so. Alarms had gone off before, and in the present state of heightened security, they'd probably go off again. Best not to get all worked up until he knew exactly what was happening. He checked the Neuro for any relevant information. When he finished reading the small bit of news he did manage to find, his face turned ashen white. He immediately tried to reach Janet to warn her to stay put, but for some strange reason he couldn't get his or her avatar to respond. For the first time in Hektor's adult life he was completely terrified.

13 Fall

Tough, omnivorous "bacteria" could outcompete real bacteria: They could spread like blowing pollen, replicate swiftly, and reduce the biosphere to dust in a matter of days. Dangerous replicators could easily be too tough, small, and rapidly spreading to stop-at least, if we made no preparation. We have trouble enough controlling viruses and fruit flies. .. .Among the cognoscenti of nanotechnology, this threat has become known as the "gray goo problem." Though masses of uncontrolled replicators need not be gray or gooey, the term "gray goo" emphasizes that replicators able to obliterate life might be less inspiring than a single species of crabgrass.-ERIC DREXLER, ENGINES OF CREATION: ENGINES OF CREATION:THE COMING ERA OF NANOTECHNOLOGY, 1986 GRAY BOMB USED!TERRORIST ATTACK CENTERED AT GCI SYSTEM HEADQUARTERSFLATTENS HALF OF NYC! MILLIONS FEARED PERMANENTLY DEAD!.

In an attack that showed technical skill and a viciousness not seen in the Crisis until now, members of the Action Wing claimed credit for the release of a Gray Bomb at GCI system headquarters. The permanent death toll is in the millions and, given the nature of the attack, will have to be calculated using secondary means. The attack appears to have been centered in the middle of the residential area of the GCI Tower and Harlem.The Action Wing has claimed responsibility and has sent to all media outlets claims that the nanites should have deactivated after reducing three cubic kilometers to dust, the goal being the complete destruction of GCI system headquarters and all of its key personnel."Those stupid fuckers had no idea what they were working with," claimed the head of research at NaniCo, the leader in nanite research. "Three cubic kilometers!? Do you have any idea how many generations of replicators are needed to reduce three cubic kilometers to dust? We're talking hundreds, making up trillions of nanites! All I can say is, thank Damsah for Hektor Sambianco and GCI. If they hadn't contained this thing there's no telling what could've happened. Probably would've lost the planet. And you can forget about psyche-auditing these Action Wing bastards. I say, kill 'em. Kill 'em all!"According to experts, the Gray Bomb was not more effective due to strict precautions that GCI had taken as a result of the recent disturbances. Hektor Sambianco, vice president of Special Operations, had implemented a series of countermeasures based on worst-case scenarios. Luckily for the planet and millions of New Yorkers, one such scenario was that of a Gray Bomb. When the attack was detected, the GCI building was closed down, compartmentalized, and all air systems directed inward. Security personnel had equipment on hand to capture and analyze hunter/killer nanites that were released soon after the nature of the attack became apparent but, sadly, not before the lion's share of damage had been done. By the time GCI security had secured GCI HQ with its all-important Nano-Lab and been dispatched to the rest of NYC, tremendous damage had already been done. Millions were dead and much of the city lay in ruin.Ironically, many family members had been brought to GCI system headquarters for safety. Among the permanent dead, Manny Black, the extraordinary lawyer and close friend of Justin Cord. Mr. Black had been staying at the apartment of vice president of GCI Legal, Janet Delgado, who is also believed to be permanently dead. It is believed that Ms. Delgado made her way back to her apartment after being accidentally locked out of a GCI board meeting.Hektor Sambianco, speaking for the board, had this to say: "NYC, GCI, and the world have been attacked. Millions are in pain tonight, having to deal with losses that I cannot even begin to understand. To my friends and colleagues I can only offer my support and grieve with you. To those bastards who call themselves the Action Wing, there is no place you can hide. The whole system knows you for what you are. Your act of hatred and contempt for the lives of innocent children, women, and men will not be forgotten. Your ilk has been seen time and again, and always your hatred and evil has failed. You will fail this time. You're finished."-THE TUERRAN DAILY NEWS

Justin was still in shock. He was holding a DijAssist in his hands and staring at the images in abject horror. If the firemen atop the burned wreckage of the twin towers had been the visual icon of one of his era's defining tragedies, then surely the image before him now would be the icon of this one. A jagged, half-eaten ruin of the Empire State Center could be seen in the foreground while emerging from its carcass was the miraculously still intact Empire State Building. Behind that in the background were the uneven remains of New York's once mighty skyscrapers, now broken and jagged, with large gaps of empty space between them. In much the same way as a firestorm, the nanites had been fast but unpredictable in their paths of replication and destruction. His own apartment building had fallen victim to the plague of replicators, converting his three-hundred-story behemoth and all those inside into a pile of dust within minutes. Justin kept staring at the videos. In one, t.o.p.s were being blown out of the sky by unseen lasers, destroying any and all who attempted to flee the city. Fear of them spreading the nanites was enough justification for the government to shoot them down. The same grisly scenes played themselves out on the ground. People were being gunned down mercilessly lest they threaten the very existence of mankind itself. The skyline was filled with long plumes of smoke from one end of the city to the other. Justin didn't believe-didn't want to believe-that millions were gone. And that among those millions was Manny Black. He couldn't begin to imagine what it must have been like. To be trapped in a room with no possibility of escape, waiting to be dissolved from the inside out. Knowing that it was coming, and then having to wait for the inevitable. At least Manny had had Janet with him. That was something, wasn't it?

Though he mourned for the millions, it was the few who ended up having the most impact. He couldn't get Manny out of his mind. Justin knew that he needed the lawyer's skills in the courtroom, and even enjoyed the idiosyncrasies that so often annoyed others. But what Justin hadn't realized-until it was too late-was just how much he liked liked Manny. Over the course of months he'd become a close friend. He'd miss having him over for meals, and hearing him go off on tangents that had nothing to do with the subject at hand. He'd even miss playing chess with him-no matter how many times Manny whupped his ass. Manny. Over the course of months he'd become a close friend. He'd miss having him over for meals, and hearing him go off on tangents that had nothing to do with the subject at hand. He'd even miss playing chess with him-no matter how many times Manny whupped his ass.

This attack had cast a harsh light on Justin, and now for the first time in ages, he was filled with self-doubt. He had money, fame, and love, but he was struggling to fit into the new world or, as Neela had so prophetically said, "make the world fit him." Well, he'd made it fit alright-managed to shove that square peg into that round hole-but at what cost? He'd been willing to part with his money, the respect of the business community, and even a few friends-Mosh being a case in point-to live with himself, to be able to look himself in the mirror every day and say, "I don't own anybody and nobody owns me." But if the cost of making the world fit him was the death of so many, then perhaps that cost was too high. He wasn't sure how long he'd been out walking, trying to drive the demons from his head, but it must have been hours, because the sun was setting and the dissonant symphony of birdsong had tapered off, replaced by the hypnotizing chirp of the crickets. And so, alone in the woods of Coffman Cove, Alaska, site of his new home, away from the Liberty Party faithful, and away from the harangue of the Hektor Sambiancos of the world to force him into a defensive posture, Justin Cord did something he never thought he'd do.

He wavered.

Since the attack on GCI all tourism and most entertainment stocks have taken a serious slide, with a corresponding slide in their currencies as well. GCI stock experienced a momentary decline, but quickly rallied as it was realized that all but one of the board had not been harmed, and GCI was marketing a new generation of hunter/killer nanites systemwide. Economic activity is the lowest it's been in fifty years, with unemployment reaching toward the double digits for the first time in living memory. Although almost all employees are covered by private, comprehensive unemployment insurance, the system was not designed to handle this number of unemployed at the same time. There were rumors of some of the most venerable names in insurance declaring bankruptcy, but an unconfirmed bailout by system giant GCI apparently staved off disaster. Such measures will only help temporarily.The insurance companies are paying unemployment benefits in the currencies of the industries the insured were fired from. Thus, many of the unemployed are being given benefits in devalued currencies when the products and services they most need must be purchased in currencies that are not only at full value, but have risen in value. Of the most pressing concerns, economically, is the fact that the policies were overwhelmingly written only to pay benefits for three months. Massive, sustained unemployment being considered unlikely, few individuals bothered to pay for benefits they were unlikely to use.The effects of the unemployed and unpaid billions are predicted to have cascading, catastrophic consequences on the economy not seen since the days of the Grand Collapse and wars of unification.-ECONOMIC SYSTEM NEWS

"Justin, she's here." It was sebastian informing him of his visitor.

The door opened, and Cassandra, whom he hadn't seen in some time, came flying in like an unraveling spindle of emotion. "Justin, I've been watching the satellite images," she practically wailed. "It's horrible, horrible! We should issue a bulletin showing that this so-called Action Wing has nothing to do with the Liberty Party."

Justin looked up from his desk. His eyes were cold, his teeth clenched. "That's going to be hard to do considering that we funded them." As he said this four guards and two securibots emerged from the permiawalls and surrounded Cassandra. She also found herself enveloped in a stall field that allowed for minimal movement as well as acting as a disruption field for any equipment hidden or exposed on her body.

"Mr. Chairman," she said, surprised, "what are you doing?"

"Holding you in custody until the authorities can get here," he answered coolly.

"For what?" she asked in disbelief.

"For the deaths of millions innocent lives, to start."

Cassandra was incensed. "But I had nothing to do with the Action Wing! How dare you?"

"Nothing, Cassandra? Nothing!?" he asked, barely able to contain his rage. "There are three million dead, maybe more. This Action Wing was your your creation, and you can sit here and lie to my face?" creation, and you can sit here and lie to my face?"

"I'm innocent," she seethed. "I demand you release me!"

Justin held up a crystal and twirled it between his forefinger and thumb. "Cassandra, you may think of me as some buffoon playing at politics, but you seem to have forgotten what I was before I had myself suspended." He then stood up from his desk and walked right up to her so that they were standing toe-to-toe. "You were good," he continued. "The money you siphoned off was never much or ever to one place-seemingly. But those murderers you gave the money to, the money that I I helped raise, were not so smart. Their encryption was good, but we tracked the spending." helped raise, were not so smart. Their encryption was good, but we tracked the spending."

Cassandra said nothing.

"I was hoping," continued Justin, "it was just you embezzling. I thought you were pissed-angry-that I was in charge, and were stealing enough money to start your own party. But you had grander plans, didn't you, Cassandra? You funded an underground nanotech lab and hired all the personnel. Jesus, Cassandra, you ordered the deaths of more people than Pol Pot."

"Circumstantial," she muttered, her face now revealing the true antipathy she felt for her accuser. "That crystal proves nothing."

He could see the venom in her eyes. Feel it burning into his soul. Such pure hatred he'd never experienced, not so close-so animal.

"It's enough for a psyche audit," he answered, unblinking. "Then we'll know. But don't worry, they'll be extra careful-won't let what happened to your husband happen to you."

The mention of her late husband made her blood boil. Cassandra had had enough.

"You simpering moron!" she shrieked. "You think it's all so so easy. You think that the corporate bastards will just let us all go? Fool! Utter fool! You aren't one tenth the man Sean was! He understood what had to be done. He understood that the ends justified the means!" She then spat at him, but the field surrounding her caught the large gob of spittle and slowly lowered it to the floor. Cassandra was breathing heavier now, straining against the field that grew more taut with every attempt to break free of it. easy. You think that the corporate bastards will just let us all go? Fool! Utter fool! You aren't one tenth the man Sean was! He understood what had to be done. He understood that the ends justified the means!" She then spat at him, but the field surrounding her caught the large gob of spittle and slowly lowered it to the floor. Cassandra was breathing heavier now, straining against the field that grew more taut with every attempt to break free of it.

"History," answered Justin, unfazed, "has had to deal with your kind forever. You don't get it. The ends are the means The ends are the means. You are what you do and what you accept. What makes you think any sane person would want to live in a world that you created when its very nascence is the death of three million people?"

Cassandra smiled, and the malevolence of her stare silenced the room.

"They were already dead," she stated with absolute calm. "We ... are already ... dead." ... are already ... dead."

She then began to laugh in fits, and then finally in convulsions. Justin was too disgusted to continue, and motioned for the guards to take her away. As they did, he could hear her screaming down the hallway, "Dead! You hear me, Cord? We're all all already dead!" already dead!"

Neela found Justin in his San Francisco office, sitting on a couch, scanning documents, and barking orders to a ready and willing cadre of Liberty Party staffers (his divestiture crew had long since been folded into the larger movement). Justin seemed distracted, not driven. He'd been lauded for capturing the terrorist celebre Cassandra Doogle but took no solace in that small victory, instead holding himself culpable: one, for trusting her, and two, for missing the signs that may have led to early detection. Though Neela had patiently explained to him that it couldn't possibly be his fault-that Cassandra's duplicity had gone undetected by greater, more resourceful terror-sniffing agencies than his own-he still bore the weight of the massacre on his shoulders. And so now he was going through the motions of running a ship without bothering to steer it. The faithful were unaware, thrilled only to be in the great man's presence. Neela, however, knew better.

Justin waited until Neela was seated before switching off the holodisplay on the coffee table as a courtesy.

"It's getting very bad out there, sweets," he said quietly, and out of earshot.

"I know, I know," she answered. "We've got another problem ... I ... I was waiting for the right time to tell you."

Justin immediately put down his DijAssist with a look of concern. He shooed people out of his office and told his secretary to block his calls. Then he told the room to tint the glass. It would cause some rumors, but there was nothing he could do about that short of leaving the premises, and that would cause even more rumors, and would entail more press-besides, the gossip had been particularly fierce since the Moon excursion, anyway.

Justin turned to give Neela his undivided attention.

"GCI is going to separate us," she said, choking back tears, "not going to allow me to renew my contract with you."

Justin sighed, then pulled her into him and put his arms around her.

"That's not all," she continued, as her words now seemed to be coming out in short, painful convulsions. "They won't ... they won't put me back to work in Boulder, either."

She then unfolded a slip of crumpled paper; from the looks of it she'd been clutching it for some time. Her eyes were red and slightly puffy.

"What? What is it, Neela?" pleaded Justin, beginning for the first time in a long time to feel a pit welling in the base of his stomach.

Neela almost numbingly regurgitated the information contained within her "marching orders." "The company," she stated, "has a pressing need for me ... on the moons of Neptune."

Justin was dumbstruck. "That can't be ..."

"Rumor has it," she continued, "that GCI has a secret research lab out there. People who get the assignment are paid lavishly, but ... but disappear for years at a time-and only GCI personnel are allowed out there."

"When is this supposed to happen?"

"The day my contract with Dr. Gillette is completed ... which gives us a little less than three months." She sighed. "It's going to be a while before I get to see you again, Justin. I know you're busy, but if you don't mind ... I'd ... I'd like to go out onto the bay with you tomorrow. Can we?"

Justin was incensed.

"Neela, how can you talk about going boating? These bastards are going to separate us, and thanks to this stupid system of incorporation they can tell a grown woman-the woman I I love-to leave me! And all because you don't own a majority of yourself? Do you realize how crazy that sounds to me? A person who doesn't own a majority of themselves! And you don't, Neela Harper. So you're love-to leave me! And all because you don't own a majority of yourself? Do you realize how crazy that sounds to me? A person who doesn't own a majority of themselves! And you don't, Neela Harper. So you're compelled compelled to leave me-the man you love. To hell with that! I won't let it happen!" to leave me-the man you love. To hell with that! I won't let it happen!"

"It's not a stupid system," Neela said softly.

Justin's face was a mask of incredulity. "What was that?" he asked.

"Justin, it's not a stupid system. It's a good system. In fact, it's the best system that the human race has ever come up with."

"But how can you say that?" He'd expected anger from her, sadness even. But compliance? He felt deflated.

"How can I not say it?" she challenged. "Justin, I really do love you, but sometimes I think your head never thawed with the rest of your body. Our system works. And it works a hell of a lot better than yours ever did. And I, for one, am proud of it. I may not have voiced it strongly at first because I was your reanimation specialist ... and then your friend, and finally your lover. There was always an excuse, but enough is enough."

"Neela," began Justin.

"Just hold on a minute and answer me this. Your country-America-was the wealthiest and most powerful of all the pre-GC nations, correct?"

Justin nodded.

"Did all of your citizens have decent housing?"

Justin didn't answer.

"Well, did they?"

"No," he had to admit.

"How about on Earth?"

"Most definitely not," he further admitted. "There were probably billions who didn't."

"Justin, our system has over forty billion people in it and not one of them not one of them is denied access to decent housing. is denied access to decent housing. Not one Not one. How about jobs, Justin? Did everyone in your country have access to work?"

"You know the answer to that, Neela."

"Yes, I do. And until recently I could say that anyone who needed a job had one with our system. Justin, I love incorporation even with all its faults, because it's the one system that's given the most happiness and prosperity to the greatest number of people ... ever."

"Neela, that's bullshit," he snapped back. "It's not incorporation that did that, it's the technology. You have a nanite industrial base, Neuro culture, and fusion power. With all that is it really any wonder that everyone is well housed and fed?"

"Justin, where do you think our technology came from? It's not the technology. Oh, I'll admit it's great-you've certainly helped me to appreciate that-and I'll also admit that I would have hated living in your time. Sweet Damsah, you were dying from cancer. But in your day you had the technology to feed, employ, and house the world. But not one country ever had the system. They all failed in the end."

"But in my world," he said plaintively, "no one was ever forced to leave their loved ones against their will."

"The hell they weren't," she challenged. "Maybe no one you you ever knew was forced, but pre-GC, hundreds of millions of people were forced, by stupid wars, unnecessary famines, and no jobs to leave whole families and lives behind. If anyone here gets 'forced' to move, they're usually well compensated, and that person can almost always bring their family with them. It wouldn't be efficient otherwise." ever knew was forced, but pre-GC, hundreds of millions of people were forced, by stupid wars, unnecessary famines, and no jobs to leave whole families and lives behind. If anyone here gets 'forced' to move, they're usually well compensated, and that person can almost always bring their family with them. It wouldn't be efficient otherwise."

"If that's the case," he countered, "then why can't I go with you to Neptune?"

"Besides the obvious," she said, indicating the patient/doctor meme, "it's because I'm an exception to the rule."

"Great. A lot of good that does me."

"But," she continued, "I'm part of the thousands of exceptions out of forty billion. Your system had hundreds of millions of cases out of only six or seven billion."

"But that doesn't take away from the fact," he grumbled, "that they're still forcing forcing you to go." you to go."

"No, Justin," she said, getting up from the couch, then turning around to face him. "It's you. You're the one who's forcing me to go! Why can't you see that?"

She looked at her lover, sitting wide-eyed and slack-jawed. "Honey," she continued, "if you could give me anything, anything at all in the whole system, what would it be?"

Justin didn't hesitate for a second. "I'd buy up every stock that you didn't have of yourself and give them all back to you."

"Take it further," she urged. "What if you could make me the Unincorporated Woman, would you?"

"Yes," he answered. "I'd do it in a heartbeat."

Neela shook her head. "Justin, I know this will be hard for you to hear, but ... I wouldn't accept it. Don't get me wrong; I'll be overjoyed the day I get majority-have a big party and everything. But, forgetting about the government's automatic 5 percent, how could I become unincorporated? Why would I want to? Everything I know, have, and am I owe to incorporation-including you! Who and what I am is tied up in it, from the day I was born until the day I die. It's a system that makes every human being personally responsible for all other human beings. It takes the most consistent motivator of our species-self-interest-and makes it work for everyone. I belong because because of incorporation. And I so wanted you to belong, too. Do you even know we never exchanged?" of incorporation. And I so wanted you to belong, too. Do you even know we never exchanged?"

"Never exchanged what? Stock?"