Diamond Age or a Young Lady's Illustrated Primer

"You have given me information, Colonel Napier, and I am grateful, but it has only made me more confused. What do you suppose the Celestial Kingdom wanted with me?"

"Did Dr. X ask anything of you?"

"To seek the Alchemist."

Colonel Napier looked startled. "He asked that of you ten years ago?"

"Yes. In as many words."

"That is very singular," Napier said, after a prolonged interlude of mustache-twiddling. "We have only been aware of this shadowy figure for some five years and know virtually nothing about him– other than that he is a wizardly artifex who is conspiring with Dr. X."

"Is there any other information-"

"Nothing that I can reveal," Napier said brusquely, perhaps having revealed too much already. "Do let us know if you find him, though. Er, Hackworth, there is no tactful way to broach this subject. Are you aware that your wife has divorced you?"

"Oh, yes," Hackworth said quietly. "I suppose I did know that." But he hadn't been conscious of it until now.

"She was remarkably understanding about your long absence," Napier said, "but at some point it became evident that, like all the Drummers, you had become sexually promiscuous in the extreme."

"How did she know?"

"We warned her."

"Pardon me?"

"I mentioned earlier that we found things in your blood. These hæmocules were designed specifically to be spread through exchange of bodily fluids."

"How do you know that?"

Napier seemed impatient for the first time. "For god's sake, man, we know what we are doing. These particles had two functions: spread through exchange of bodily fluids, and interact with each other. Once we saw that, we had no ethical choice but to inform your wife."

"Of course. That's only right. As a matter of fact, I thank you for it," Hackworth said. "And it's not hard to understand Gwen's feelings about sharing bodily fluids with thousands of Drummers."

"You shouldn't beat yourself up," Napier said. "We've sent explorers down there."

"Really?"

"Yes. The Drummers don't mind. The explorers relate that the Drummers behave much the way people do in dreams. 'Poorly defined ego boundaries' was the phrase, as I recall. In any event, your behaviour down there wasn't necessarily a moral transgression as such-your mind wasn't your own."

"You said that these particles interact with each other?"

"Each one is a container for some rod logic and some memory," Napier said. "When one particle encounters another either in vivo or in vitro, they dock and seem to exchange data for a few moments. Most of the time they disengage and drift apart. Sometimes they stay docked for a while, and computation takes place-we can tell because the rod logic throws off heat. Then they disconnect. Sometimes both particles go their separate ways, sometimes one of them goes dead. But one of them always keeps going."

The implications of that last sentence were not lost on Hackworth. "Do the Drummers only have sex with one another, or-"

"That was our first question too," Napier said. "The answer is no. They have a very good deal of sex with many, many other people. They actually run bordellos in Vancouver. They cater especially to the Aerodrome-and-tube-station crowd. A few years ago they came into conflict with the established bordellos because they were hardly charging any money at all for their services. They raised their prices just to be diplomatic. But they don't want the money– what on earth would they do with it?"

From the Primer, a visit to Castle Turing; a final chat with Miss Matheson; speculation as to Nell's destiny; farewell; conversation with a grizzled hoplite; Nell goes forth to seek her fortune.

The new territory into which Princess Nell had crossed was by far the largest and most complex of all the Faery Kingdoms in the Primer. Paging back to the first panoramic illustration, she counted seven major castles perched on the mountaintops, and she knew perfectly well that she would have to visit all of them, and do something difficult in each one, in order to retrieve the eleven keys that had been stolen from her and the one key that remained.

She made herself some tea and sandwiches and carried them in a basket to a meadow, where she liked to sit among the wildflowers and read. Constable Moore's house was a melancholy place without the Constable in it, and it had been several weeks since she had seen him. During the last two years he had been called away on business with increasing frequency, vanishing (as she supposed) into the interior of China for days, then weeks at a time, coming back depressed and exhausted to find solace in whiskey, which he consumed in surprisingly moderate quantities but with fierce concentration, and in midnight bagpipe recitals that woke up everyone in Dovetail and a few sensitive sleepers in the New Atlantis Clave.