Child Garden Read Online Free PDF

genes for work in the Antarctic, before the Revolution. It was a sickness, to be pitied. This GE was huge and shaggy, covered in fur of varying chestnut colours, staring ahead, mouth hanging open. The eyes did not blink, but seemed to ripple and glisten with a life of their own, wide and black and unseeing.
    The music was coming from nowhere.
    The monstrous voice was singing in German, with a voice like a steam whistle.
    ewig blauen licht die Fernen
    everywhere and eternally, the distance shines bright and blue
    The viruses knew all the words, knew all the notes. The effect was to make the music wearisome to Milena, like a thrice-told joke. The mystery of where it was coming from simply made her feel very creepy. She looked instead at the posters of beautiful paintings curling on the wall. There were books as well, books turned face downwards on the desk. There was a scattering of what looked like wafers, something to eat. Books, paper, Milena had never seen such wealth or such waste.
    Milena knew about the wealth of Bears, GEs. Bears, GEs, lived outside the Consensus. They were deliberate outlaws, selling Antarctic nickel. This one was massive, burly. What a gorilla, thought Milena. This one's trouble, she decided.
    The music settled into silence.
    Ewig… ewig…
    Forever… forever…
    The giant voice throbbed. Earwigs yourself, thought Milena. The GE looked stunned as if the music were a blow to the head. Finally the song fell silent and it was as if the entire building sighed with relief.
    The GE moved. It fumbled behind itself without turning, sending a cascade of paper pouring out over the edge of the desk. Out from under it emerged a small, metal box with switches. The GE felt for one of them.
    An electronic device.
    Milena lived in a world without much electricity. Pulse weapons and poverty, sheer numbers, and a shortage of metal had made domestic electronics a part of history.
    'Where did you get that?' Milena asked, stepping forward, forgetting herself for once.
    Milena had a clock in her mind, a viral calculator. It added up the cost of the metal, and the cost of manufacture, all in terms of labour-hours. The electronic device was the most expensive thing she had ever seen.
    The GE squinted at her, as if across the Grand Canyon. Its mouth hung open. Finally it spoke.
    'China, I believe,' the GE said. The voice was high and rasping. The GE was a woman.
     
     
    Milena had heard stories of Polar women. They gave birth on the ice, and stood up, and went straight back to work, blasting rocks. Milena's prejudices lined up in place. The creature spoke again, with a delicious, rambling delicacy.
    'You wouldn't happen to have any alcoholic beverages about your person, would you?'
    'Milena was by now out of step with the conversation. She had forgotten the question she had asked and was trying to work out what the answer, 'China, I believe,' could possibly mean. Distracted, she gave her head a little shake.
    'No,' Milena said. 'I don't like poisoning myself.'
    'Tuh!' said the GE. It was a chuckle that became a shudder. She stood up. She was nearly twice the height of Milena, and had to shuffle to turn around in the enclosed space. With slow Weariness, she began to ransack her desk. She pushed over more piles of paper, and swept a resin tray of wafers onto the floor.
    It occurred to Milena that she was being ignored.
    'Effendim?' she said, crisply, meaning excuse me, sorry to trouble you. 'I've come to change these boots.'
    As she said it, Milena thought: GEs aren't part of the Consensus. This person does not work here. It's not her job to find me boots.
    The GE lurched around to look at her. 'You,' she said, 'are a ponce.' The consonant sounds were incised with a laboured precision. Milena was mortified into silence.
    I know who this is, thought Milena.
    She had heard of the Bear who Loves Opera. GEs were wealthy. This one was wealthy enough to buy a ticket for the first night of each production. She sat in the same seat