In the Hall of the Martian King Read Online Free PDF Page A

Intel’s doctor, not
     Jak’s, and he was indifferent to everything except his job.
    As he usually did, Jak gazed steadily at Mejitarian’s right eye, to avoid looking at the notched left ear and the faded outline
     of a brand in the fur of Mejitarian’s left cheek. On Mercury, where banking and other archaic horrors were still practiced,
     several banks marked children born into peonage in that way. How Mejitarian had gotten away from that life, and into his present
     one, was doubtless an interesting story, and one Jak was almost certain never to hear.
    The kobold seemed to be seeing something in Jak’s face. “Something else? I’ve told you to report unusual feelings and thoughts.
     Something you’re not sure you should report, perhaps? Or something you feel curiously reluctant to report?”
    “Oh, I know what it is, and it didn’t come in the message,” Jak said, shivering because he was still wet and naked. He set
     the dial on the towel to “extra absorbent” and gently pressed himself all over with it. “It’s frustration. How long will I
     have to live like this and do this? I know you don’t have an answer, like a fixed date or anything, but I want to get really
     deconditioned, go into Hive Intel on a regular mission, draw a Hive Intel paycheck, and stop infiltrating PASC. Sometimes
     it’s hard to wait.”
    “Perhaps Dean Caccitepe has not been clear. If you rise to be the head of PASC while giving us a marvelous backchannel into
     the Karrinynya palace, and you do that across fifty years, you will have been a very successful agent. There’s no particular
     virtue in drawing one of our paychecks, after all—rather the contrary, since the whole idea is to accomplish as much as we
     can within our budget, so having our agents paid out of other offices is good. You are in your most valuable possible assignment.
     You are a fast-rising star within PASC, which is
noticed.
And you are invaluable as a double agent. You are extraordinarily useful where you are, doing what you are doing. Now, when
     you sleep tonight, be sure to run the deconditioning program that we’ve downloaded to your purse. Any other questions?”
    “No, sir.”
    The screen blinked off.
    “Do you want to record your script now?” the purse asked. “Hive Intel has already sent it over.”
    “Sure,” Jak said. “I’ll put on a shirt and let’s do it in the recording room. Prompt it from right below the camera.”
    After each message from Shyf, the Hive Intel AIs wrote a short script, which Jak then read from a prompter with as much sincerity
     as he could manage; its purpose was to convince Greenworld Intelligence that Shyf still had functional control of Jak, plant
     some disinformation, aid the Hive, and keep Greenworld from gaining too many advantages.
It’s nice that we’re allies,
Jak thought.
Because if we were enemies, this whole business might be toktru nasty.
    The room camera recorded him reading the script as it rolled across the end wall of his sitting room, and his purse uploaded
     it to Hive Intelligence for editing and enhancements. Nowadays he tried not to think about any of the words he was reading.
    “Time for bed,” he told the purse. He slipped into his prewarmed bed. “Play the deconditioning program that they just sent
     you. If it doesn’t specify how often, repeat it all night. Wake me at four. Bright lights, lively music, lots of coffee, and
     something I like to eat.”
    “Tomorrow’s going to be a good day,” the purse said, cheerfully, trying to catch his mood—something at which it was still
     less than perfect.
    “Tomorrow’s going to be a day,” Jak corrected.

C HAPTER 3
I Have the Most Complete Confidence in You
    T he next morning, the bright lights came on almost with a pop, some gutty old blues singer belted out a lively version of “Saint
     James Infirmary,” and the waitron flew into the room towing a container with a big flask of hot strong black coffee and a
     mountain of