World's End

Page 48

this world. You make some damn good machinery, and you know how to tend it. But I heard you won't even talk to half the people on your own planet because they don't meet some half-assed standard of genetic purity.

And you come in here and tell me the Company's not humane enough to criminals!"

It was the longest speech I'd heard from Ang since I'd met him. I couldn't begin to justify the complexities of

Kharemoughi social structure to someone like him; I

didn't even try. I merely said, "My being wrong doesn't make you right." His mouth snapped shut. I went on, as reasonably as I could, "If you find the Company so eminently fair, why aren't you still working for them?"

The frown setted more deeply into his face. He sat down again, tugging at his religious medal.

He said, "I

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JOAN D. VINGE

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got sick of never getting rich ... of finding more ways for some faceless bloodsuckers to get rich instead." He stared at the walls of the room, spoke to them, as if his voice could somehow reach through them into the depths of the installation. "My wife used to work here.

She left, years ago, because she couldn't stand the Company anymore. She took my son. Said I was wasting my life. She was just like the Company: never satisfied. She didn't understand why I wouldn't leave. She didn't understand about World's End." He shook his head, as if he were shaking it free of ghosts. "No one understood why I go out there. Because you have to go out there to know her better than any human being. . . ." For a moment I thought he was still talking about his wife.

"For years I saw the independents, those skywheelers and losers, trying to do my job ... and some of them doing it! Getting rich off of World's End, instead of me.

But I always knew she'd show me her heart someday.

And then I--" He broke off, glancing around him. "We'll all be rich. I promise you that much."

He actually smiled.

It only made his face more expressionless.

"You have a real plan?" Spadrin asked. "What is it?"

I touched the pouch where I kept my brothers' picture, feeling tension tighten in my chest. If Ang had a definite

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plan in mind, that would make it much harder to get him to cooperate with my search.

But Ang pointed at the walls, shaking his head. He said in a whisper, "Not yet."