Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World Read Online Free PDF Page B

skulls, and I've been buildin' up the collection bit by bit. Been at it close't'forty years. Unscramblin' the skulls has taken me longer than I ever thought possible. Would've been easier't'figure out living flesh-and-blood human beings. I really think so. Granted, of course, someone young as yourself's probably more interested in the flesh and nothing but, eh?" the old man laughed. "For me, it's taken thirty years't'get't'where I can hear the sounds bones make. Thirty years, now that's a good long time."
    "Sounds?" I said. "Bones produce sounds?"
    "Of course they do," said the old man. "Every bone has unique sound. It's the hidden language of bones. And I don't mean metaphorically. Bones literally speak. Research I'm engaged in proposes't'decode that language. Then, 't'render it artificially controllable."
    The details escaped me, but if what the old man said were true, he had his work cut out for him. "Very valuable research," I offered.
    "Truly," said the old man with a nod. "That's why those types have all got designs on my findings. 'Fraid the word's out. They all want my research for their own ends. F'r instance, suppose you could draw out the memories stored in bones; there'd be no need for torture.
    All you'd have't'do is kill your victim, strip the meat clean off the skull, and the information would be in your hands."
    "Lovely," I said.
    "Granted, for better or worse, research hasn't gotten that far. At this stage, you'd get a clearer memory log taking the brain out."
    "Oh." Remove the skull, remove the brain, some difference.
    "That's why I called for your services. So those Semiotecs can't steal my experiment data.
    Civilization," the old man pronounced, "faces serious crises because science is used for evil—or good. I put my trust in science for the sake of pure science."
    "I can't say I understand," I said. "I'm here on a matter of pure business. Except my orders didn't come from System Central and they didn't come from any official agent. They came directly from you. Highly irregular. And more to the point, probably in violation of professional regulations. If reported, I could lose my license. I hope you understand this."
    "I do indeed," said the old man. "You're not without cause for concern. But rest assured, this request was cleared through the proper System channels. Only the business procedures were dropped. I contacted you directly't'keep everything undercover. You won't be losin' any license."
    "Can you guarantee this?"
    The old man pulled out a folder and handed it to me. I leafed through it. Official System request forms, no mistake about it. The papers, the signatures, all in order.
    "Well enough," I said, returning the folder. "I pull double-scale at my rank, you realize. Double-scale means—"
    "Twice the standard fee, right? Fine by me. Fsct is, as a bonus, I'm willint'go to a full triple-scale."
    "Very trusting of you, I must say."
    "This is an important job. Plus I already had you go under the waterfall. Ho-ho-ho."
    "Then may I see the data," I said. "We can decide the calc-scheme after I see the figures. Which of us will do the computer-level tabulations?"
    "I'll be usin' my computer here. You just take care of the before and after. That is, if you don't mind."
    "So much the better. Saves me a lot of trouble."
    The old man stood up from his chair and pressed a coordinate on the wall behind him. An ordinary wall—until it opened. Tricks within tricks. The old man took out another folder and closed the wall. Resealed, it looked like any other plain white wall. No distinguishing features or seams, no nothing.
    I skimmed the seven pages of numerics. Straightforward data.
    "This shouldn't take too much time to launder" I said. "Infrequent number series like these virtually rule out temporary bridging. Theoretically, of course, there's always that possibility. But there'd be no proving the syntactical validity, and without such proof you couldn't shake the error tag. Like trying to cross the