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"
They
who
?
"
"
People
.
Society
.
"
She
waved
a
hand
impatiently
.
"
Whoever
.
They
had
the
capacity
back
then
.
Mail
order
,
virtual
supermarkets
,
automated
debiting
systems
.
It
could
have
been
done
and
it
never
happened
.
What
does
that
tell
you
?
"
At
twenty
-
two
years
old
,
a
marine
corps
grunt
via
the
street
gangs
of
Newpest
,
it
told
me
nothing
.
Carlyle
took
in
my
blank
look
and
sighed
.
"
It
tells
you
that
people
like
shopping
.
That
it
satisfies
a
basic
,
acquisitive
need
at
a
genetic
level
.
Something
we
inherited
from
our
hunter
-
gatherer
ancestors
.
Oh
,
you
’
ve
got
automated
convenience
shopping
for
basic
household
items
,
mechanical
food
distribution
systems
for
the
marginalised
poor
.
But
you
’
ve
also
got
a
massive
proliferation
of
commercial
hives
and
speciality
markets
in
food
and
crafts
which
people
physically
have
to
go
to
.
Now
why
would
they
do
that
,
if
they
didn
’
t
enjoy
it
?
"
I
probably
shrugged
,
maintaining
my
youthful
cool
.
"
Shopping
is
physical
interaction
,
exercise
of
decision
-
making
capacity
,
sating
of
the
desire
to
acquire
,
and
an
impulse
to
more
acquisition
,
a
scouting
urge
.
It
’
s
so
basically
flicking
human
when
you
think
about
it
.
You
’
ve
got
to
learn
to
love
it
,
Tak
.
I
mean
you
can
cross
the
whole
archipelago
on
a
hover
,
you
never
even
need
to
get
wet
.
But
that
doesn
’
t
take
the
basic
pleasure
out
of
swimming
,
does
it
?
Learn
to
shop
well
,
Tak
.
Get
flexible
.
Enjoy
the
uncertainty
.
"
Enjoyment
wasn
’
t
exactly
what
I
was
feeling
at
the
moment
,
but
I
stuck
with
it
and
I
stayed
flexible
,
true
to
Serenity
Carlyle
’
s
creed
.
I
started
out
vaguely
looking
for
a
heavy
-
duty
waterproof
jacket
,
but
the
thing
that
finally
pulled
me
into
a
shop
was
a
pair
of
all
-
terrain
walking
boots
.
The
boots
were
followed
by
loose
black
trousers
and
a
crossover
insulated
top
with
enzyme
seals
that
ran
all
the
way
from
waist
to
a
tight
crew
neck
.
I
’
d
seen
variations
on
the
outfit
a
hundred
times
on
the
streets
of
Bay
City
so
far
.
Surface
assimilation
.
It
would
do
.
After
brief
hungover
reflection
,
I
added
a
defiant
red
silk
bandanna
across
my
forehead
,
Newpest
gang
style
.
It
wasn
’
t
exactly
assimilative
,
but
it
went
with
the
vaguely
mutinous
irritation
that
had
been
rising
in
me
since
yesterday
.
I
dumped
Bancroft
’
s
summer
suit
in
a
skip
on
the
street
outside
and
left
the
shoes
beside
it
.
Before
I
left
it
,
I
searched
through
the
jacket
pockets
and
came
up
with
two
cards
:
the
doctor
at
Bay
City
Central
and
Bancroft
’
s
armourer
.
Larkin
and
Green
proved
to
be
the
names
not
of
two
gunsmiths
,
but
of
two
streets
that
intersected
on
a
leafy
slope
called
Russian
Hill
.
The
autocab
had
some
visitors
blurb
about
the
area
,
but
I
skipped
it
.
Larkin
&
Green
,
Armourers
since
2203
was
a
discreet
corner
façade
,
extending
less
than
a
half
dozen
metres
along
each
street
,
but
bordered
by
blinded
units
that
looked
as
if
they
had
probably
been
annexed
.
I
pushed
through
well
-
cared
-
for
wooden
doors
into
the
cool
,
oil
-
smelling
interior
.
