Luna: New Moon

‘I’m not supposed to have anything recreational until the toe grows back,’ Kojo says and takes a brownie. He bites. He melts. ‘Oh man these are great.’ He finishes the brownie. ‘You’re really good at this.’ Halfway down the second, Kojo Asamoah says, ‘You have the apartment for five days. I’ve reset the lock to your iris already.’

Lucasinho pulls himself up on to the bed and curls up like a pet ferret at Kojo’s feet. Now he takes a brownie. The medical bots hum and swarm and register their patient’s increasing level of stonedness. The two teenagers munch and giggle the sweet hours down.

The tall double doors open and the delegates rise from their sofas and drift away, conversation looping into conversation. The Pavilion of the White Hare is ended.

‘So, Senhora Corta, what did you make of your first taste of lunar politics?’ The banker Vidhya Rao slips in to Ariel’s side.

‘Surprisingly banal.’

‘Attention to the banal keeps us alive,’ Vidhya Rao says. The chef Marin Olmstead hurries to the elevator lobby, impatient to rez up his familiar and arrange his report to Jonathon Kayode. ‘Of course politics doesn’t have to be this banal.’ E touches Ariel’s arm, an invitation to linger, to conspire. ‘There are councils within councils.’

‘I’ve only just got my feet under the table at this one,’ Ariel says.

‘Your nomination was not universally welcomed,’ the banker says. E beckons Ariel to sit with er. The touch of vat-grown leather has always made Ariel’s flesh crawl. She can’t forget its provenance: human skin.

‘It would be impolitic to name names,’ Ariel suggests.

‘Of course. Some of us argued strenuously for your admission. I was one of them. I’ve followed your career with interest. You are an exceptional young woman, with a stellar career before you.’

‘I’m far too vain to blush,’ Ariel says. ‘I hope so too.’

‘Oh my dear, this is not wishful thinking,’ Vidhya Rao says. Er eyes are bright. ‘This has been modelled with a high degree of precision. The Rao forward is the least of my achievements. What every investment bank desires is the ability to see the future. To predict which prices will go long and which will short, that would give us a powerful advantage.’

‘You said “us”,’ Ariel says.

‘I did, didn’t I? For the past seven years I have been developing algorithms to model the markets. In effect, I have created shadow markets running on quantum computers, from which it is possible to make educated guesses as to the movements of the real markets. The accuracy is surprising, though we find it’s a less useful tool than we had imagined – acting on that information shows our hand, so to speak, and the market moves against us, abolishing any advantage Whitacre Goddard might enjoy.’

‘Voodoo economics,’ Ariel says. ‘Black magic.’ She snaps her vaper to full length and locks it rigid. She ignites, inhales, lets out a curl of vapour.

‘We found a more useful application for the technique,’ Vidhya Rao says. E leans forwards, demands Ariel meet er eyes. ‘Prophecy. That’s religious gobbledegook of course. I mean useful predictions based on highly-educated guesses derived from fine-scale computer modelling. Modelling the lunar economy and society. We have three independent systems, each running the model. Taiyang constructed three quantum mainframes, I developed the algorithms. We call them the Three August Ones: Fu Xi, Shennong and the Yellow Emperor. They seldom agree – one has to find patterns in their output, but they agree with a high degree of confidence on one person. You.’

Ariel’s outward demeanour is calm and elegant – her court face – but she feels a shock of cold electricity run from her heart to the root of her brain.

‘I’m not sure I like being the Chosen One to a cabal of quantum computers.’

‘It’s nothing so tendentious. We naturally modelled the Five Dragons. You are the major shapers of the economic and political society. You emerge as a significant figure in the Corta family. The significant figure.’

‘Rafa is bu-hwaejang.’

‘And Lucas is the power behind the throne. You do know he is planning to take over the company. Talented boys, but they are predictable.’

‘And you’ve predicted my unpredictability.’ Ariel looses another stream of vapour into the air. Effortless cool. Inside, she is electrically alert.

‘The Three August Ones were unanimous. The Three August Ones are never unanimous. I shall be frank, Ariel. We want to make a bid for your potential.’

‘You’re not talking about Whitacre Goddard.’

‘I’m talking about a movement, a ghost, a philosophy, a diversity.’

‘If you give me good versus evil, this conversation is over.’ But the small neutro has her attention. Curiosity conspires with vanity.