The White Mountain Read Free

plushly carpeted room, on a big, low table, under glass, was a 3-D map of the east coast of City North America, ImmVac’s installations marked in blue. Kim moved closer, peering down through the glass.
    â€˜There’s an awful lot to see.’
    Lever laughed. ‘That’s true. But I think you’ve seen most of the more interesting parts.’
    Kim nodded. They had spent the day looking over ImmVac’s installations, but they had still seen only a small fraction of Old Man Lever’s vast commercial empire. More than ever, Kim had been conscious of the sheer scale of the world into which he had come. Down there, in the Clay, it was not possible to imagine the vastness of what existed a wartha – up Above. At times he found himself overawed by it all, wishing for somewhere smaller, darker, cosier in which to hide. But that feeling never lasted long. It was, he recognized, residual; part of the darker self he had shrugged off. No, this was his world now. The world of vast, continent-spanning Cities and huge Corporations battling for their share of Chung Kuo’s markets.
    He looked up. Lever was searching in one of the drawers of his desk. A moment later he straightened, clutching a bulky folder. Closing the drawer with his knee, he came round, thumping the file down beside Kim.
    â€˜Here. This might interest you.’
    Kim watched as Lever crossed the room and locked the big double doors with an old-fashioned key.
    â€˜You like old things, don’t you?’
    Lever turned, smiling. ‘I’ve never thought about it really. We’ve always done things this way. Handwritten research files, proper keys, wooden desks. I guess it makes us… different from the other North American Companies. Besides, it makes good sense. Computers are untrustworthy, easilyaccessed and subject to viruses. Likewise doorlocks and recognition units. But a good, old-fashioned key can’t be beaten. In an age of guile, people are reluctant to use force – to break down a door or force open a drawer. The people who’d be most interested in our product have grown too used to sitting at their own desks to commit their crimes. To take the risk of entering one of our facilities would be beyond most of them.’ He laughed. ‘Besides, it’s my father’s policy to keep them happy with a constant flow of disinformation. Failed research, blind alleys, minor spin-offs of more important research programmes – that kind of thing. They tap into it and think they’ve got their finger on the pulse.’
    Kim grinned. ‘And they never learn?’
    Lever shook his head, amused. ‘Not yet they haven’t.’
    Kim looked down at the file. ‘And this?’
    â€˜Open it and see. Take it across to my desk if you want.’
    Kim flipped back the cover and looked, then turned his head sharply, staring at Lever. ‘Where did you get this?’
    â€˜You’ve seen it before?’
    Kim looked down at it again. ‘I have… of course I have, but not in this form. Who…?’ Then he recognized the handwriting. The same handwriting that had been on the copy of the cancelled SimFic contract he had been given by Li Yuan. ‘Soren Berdichev…’
    Lever was looking at him strangely now. ‘You knew?’
    Kim gave a small, shuddering breath. ‘Six years ago. When I was on the Project.’
    â€˜You met Berdichev there?’
    â€˜He bought my contract. For his Company, SimFic.’
    â€˜Ah… Of course. Then you knew he’d written the File?’
    Kim laughed strangely. ‘You think Berdichev wrote this?’
    â€˜Who else?’
    Kim looked away. ‘So. He claimed it for his own.’
    Lever shook his head. ‘Are you trying to tell me he stole it from someone?’
    In a small voice, Kim began to recite the opening of the File: the story of the pre-Socratic Greeks and the establishment of the Aristotelian Yes/No mode