Exurbia: A Novel About Caterpillars (An Infinite Triptych Book 1) Read Free Page B

cube to the light of the capriglobe. It shone like an opal.
    ‘For the Ix,’ Fortmann said.
    ‘For the Ix,’ intoned the Zdrastian and held Fortmann’s gaze.
    ‘May it come in our lifetime.’
    ‘That we may know the Up,’ said the Zdrastian, the chant so old in him that he merely opened his mouth and let it fall out.
    ‘Here,’ Fortmann said and offered the cube. The Zdrastian looked it over. This was some kind of bravery test, undoubtedly; the chapter seemed full of these small moments, evaluating one’s loyalty. The Zdrastian shook his head. The blood was too much, the pulp also. It has come right out of a man’s head, for Gnesha’s sake . He had expected more somehow, the way they’d all talked about it back at the Chapterhouse. Something elaborate with spirals and markings perhaps. ‘Is that all of it?’ he said.
    Fortmann nodded. ‘For the Ix,’ he said again, smiling now. ‘That we may know the Up.’

3
    “Don’t you find it strange that your creation myths differ in their particulars, yet all resemble one another? The common message: you aren’t mice but neither are you gods yet.”
    - Cato the Wiremind of Old Erde
     
     
    261 -
     
    261 had woken at the chime of the ablutions bell and gone about the motions of readying himself. It required no mental effort. He could keep his mind on the quandaries from the day before while his body rose and washed, moving on bare feet through the cave sections by rote memorisation. If the lights failed for whatever reason it would make no difference to his routine. 
    The grey habit was waiting for him in the vacuum tube, creaseless, on the same steel hanger as every morning. He drove his arms in and fastened it about his waist with the rope cord. Breakfast was already prepared, waiting in the lip of the smaller vacuum tube, the bowl of grey nutrient gruel served always at the same tepid temperature. 
    He ate, relieved his bladder, and made into the main chamber. The omnicast activated at the sound of his footsteps – or perhaps it was a motion sensor, he had never been sure – and the quandary globes appeared about him suddenly. They calibrated for a moment, ambling about like bubbles in oil, then settled into primary colours of equal distribution a metre or so from the central chair. He eased into it and reclined.
    ‘Begin?' asked the cave. The imp nodded.
    The quandary globes rearranged into two concentric spirals and three isolates, all varying shades of green. This will be regarding a political matter then, he thought.
    ‘Day eight thousand seven hundred and five, quandary one,’ said the cave in its monotone purr. ‘As dispatched by Agglutinator Vaughn Knox. Categorised as trade dispute, non-traditional. Skern Corporation have long been a supplier of epnocillin to Exurbia major. Conventional trade agreements have regulated the distribution and price of the medicine. An outbreak of cyan fever has been reported on the Queb’al continent. Skern Corporation has quadrupled the price of epnocillin in response to the expected rise in demand. At this price, Governance will only be able to purchase a tenth of the needed dose, given its current health budget. Agglutinator Vaughn Knox suggests legislative action against Skern Corporation if they refuse to lower the cost of the medicine to its original price. Skern Corporation is claiming they are completely justified in raising their prices as they see advantageous and will respond, if forced to lower their prices, by withdrawing the medicine from the market indefinitely. Please advise.’
    261 toyed with the robe cord about his waist, one of his few eccentricities. ‘How many are likely to die due to a lack of access to the treatment?’ he said.
    ‘Three thousand in the next seven years at least, according to the Red Medic's evaluation.’
    He pushed a finger in between the tassels of the cord and pinched the frayed ends. The concentric spiral was spinning now, the spheres which composed it turning to