The Mind Pool

Chapter 15

The facilities on Earth were nowhere near the best in the system. For high-quality storage of living organisms, the perceptive buyer went to Enceladus, or to the Great Vault of Hyperion, where ambient disturbances were less and both bodies and maintenance personnel less corruptible.

But from the purchaser’s point of view, Earth storage provided one unarguable advantage: anonymity. Provided that the rental was paid on time (which meant five full years in advance) no one ever questioned the contents of the pallet. According to rumor, more than three thousand rightful Earth monarchs slept their dreamless storage sleep in the Antarctic warehouses. No one could ever accuse the usurpers of murder; but it would be a long, long time before the real kings and queens would be recalled from slumber to claim their thrones.

The warehouses were kept well below freezing. The two people searching the long files wore heavy clothing, thick gloves, and thermal boots. They cursed the layers of frost that made every identification tag difficult to read.

“Here we are, then.” The short, red-haired man bent over the long box and scrubbed again at the tag for a second look. He nodded to his companion to grab the other end. “This is it. Ready?”

The fat blond woman puffed out a frosty breath. “Let’s do it. I’m tired. Just this one, then that’s it for the day. Up’s-a-daisy.”

The container slid easily onto the moving railway. The man and woman walked beside it at each end, making sure that the ride out was smooth. They emerged at last into a long, white-walled room filled with medical equipment and banks of monitors. Working as an efficient team, they moved the container to one of the lone tables, broke the seals, and hooked in the pumps and catheters. The woman checked the inner identification against the work order that she was carrying.

“It’s an A label. How about that. Been a long time since we saw an Artefact coming out of the cooler. Any idea what we got here?”

The man sniffed, pulling off his thick white gloves. “Nah. Better keep a good watch on this one, though. Last time we did an A label, it was one of them four-wing dragon-fliers. We had a good laugh with that one — it was all over the lab, and nearly had a leg off Jesco Siemens before we could tie it down. Old Jesco, he couldn’t see the joke at all.”

The top and side were off the long box, and the pumps and wipers were slowly removing thick layers of semi-solid jelly, warming it as they worked. A shape began to emerge. The two stared at it in fascination.

“Uurgh.” The man was leaning close. “I don’t like the look of that. It’s hideous. See them legs.”

They were staring at a pair of long, bony feet, still with thick black gunk between the knobbly toes. As they watched the rest of the figure slowly came into view. It was a male, facedown; naked, tall, angular, hollow-chested, and skinny.

“How’d you like to find him under your bed, eh?” The fat woman laughed. “You sure we got the right one? Don’t look like an Artefact.”

“Think so.” The man was peering at the identification he was holding, and rubbing his cold nose with a stubby finger.

“Well, I can’t see nobody in their right mind making an Artefact that looks like that — never mind waking him up.” She took a step closer and stared at the naked body on the bench. “If you asked me, I’d say this is one of the bloody inbred royals, something the family stuck down here and never wanted to see any more. I think we ought to check again.”

“I’m doing it. This writing is terrible.”

“And check that the payment was made, too. It’s getting a bit late to stick him back. He’ll be spoiled.”

The man was frowning over the label. “It’s this one, all right.” He scratched his head as the body was rotated to face upwards. “Lordy. You’re right, he’s no beauty. I liked him better the other way up. But here’s the chit. Paid in full, automatic bank draft from somebody’s final estate. Same ID marking on the container. Label, A type, Artefact by — what’s it say? — Fu — jit — su. Let’s get on with it before we freeze. If anything’s wrong, it’s nothing to do with us.”

The protective layers of jelly were almost gone. The catheters were sliding in as the last scraping was removed, and the deep-heat batteries increased in intensity. The table tilted, raising the body to a vertical position and holding it. There was a horrible spluttering cough, and a choking grunt as lungs filled with thin oil labored to expel it. With another cough a spray of brown liquid went out onto the floor. Suddenly the figure sneezed and shook its head from side to side.

“Take it easy, now.” The man stepped forward, but he was too late. Clawlike hands were scooping out the thick jelly that still filled the eye cavities. The head was massive, with a bald, domed skull. A full beard grew beneath the thin mouth, and was shadowed above by a prominent red beak of a nose.

The mouth opened, to reveal crooked teeth. “Hh-hmmm. Ah. Thank you.”

There was another violent cough. The tall figure pulled out catheters, stood up straight, and took a step away from the table. It was still naked, and splotched with thick black goo. In spite of its bizarre appearance it had a strange dignity.

“Thank you,” it said again. It looked at the two workers and took in a long, lung-expanding breath. “I appreciate your services. But now I must go. Time is short, and I have important work to do.”

It jerked into motion and headed for the door of the chamber. The man and woman looked at each other, then started after it.

“You can’t go yet,” cried the woman. “You forgot your bath — you have to have a bath, it’s the rules.”

“And your clothes!” added the man. “You can’t go out there bare-bum naked. Don’t worry about the price of ’em, everything’s already paid for.”

But the tall Artefact was not listening. It was already out of the door, striding purposefully towards the elevators that led to the Link entry point.