Chapter 8

           

           ThetownwascalledEmber.Ifounditonthemap,abouttwohundredkilometresnorthofBayCity,onthecoastroad.Therewasanasymmetricalyellowsymbolintheseanexttoit.

           "FreeTradeEnforcer,"saidPrescott,peeringovermyshoulder."Aircraftcarrier.Itwasthelastreallybigwarshipanyoneeverbuilt.SomeidiotranitagroundwaybackatthestartoftheColonyyears,andthetowngrewuparoundthesitetocaterforthetourists."

           "Tourists?"

           Shelookedatme."It’sabigship."

           Ihiredanancientgroundcarfromaseedy-lookingdealershiptwoblocksdownfromPrescott’sofficeanddrovenorthovertherust-colouredsuspensionbridge.Ineededtimetothink.ThecoastalhighwaywaspoorlymaintainedbutalmostdesertedsoIstucktotheyellowlineinthecentreoftheroadandbarrelledalongatasteadyhundredandfifty.Theradioyieldedamedleyofstationswhoseculturalassumptionswerelargelyabovemyhead,butIfinallyfoundaNeo-MaoistpropagandaDJmemory-wiredintosomedisseminationsatellitethatnobodyhadeverbotheredtodecommission.Themixofhighpoliticalsentimentandsaccharinekaraokenumberswasirresistible.Thesmellofthepassingseablewinthroughtheopenwindowandtheroadunwoundaheadofme,andforawhileIforgotabouttheCorpsandInneninandeverythingthathadhappenedsince.

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