Multireal by David Louis Edelman

access."
    "Yes, but what if Borda wants to keep MultiReal for himself?" said
Jara.
    Benyamin leaned forward on the sofa and ran one hand through his
inky black hair. "I must be missing something," he said. "This doesn't make
any sense. If Borda can't take MultiReal away, and he can't kill Natch,
then all he can do is threaten, right? What are we so worried about?"
    Horvil put a hand on the young apprentice's shoulder. "Do I really
need to spell it out for you, Ben?" he asked in a throaty whisper.
    All conversation came to a halt. Bio/logics could do much to shield
the human body from pain, but in the wrong hands it could also be
used to cause pain. Over the years, unscrupulous groups had devised
OCHREs that injected painful toxins directly into muscle and bone,
nightmare SeeNaRees that tapped into their victims' darkest fears, and programs that directly stimulated the pain centers of the brain. Who
could say which of these techniques the Council used?

    Natch stopped midpace in front of the window, silhouetted by the
Shenandoah morning. "The Patel Brothers are giving another demo
this Sunday."
    The rest of the company blinked in surprise. Nobody had noticed that
Natch hadn't said anything for several minutes. Merri gulped uneasily and
gave Horvil a sidelong glance. "I was going to mention that," she said.
"How did you know, Natch? The Patels haven't even announced it yet."
    "Well, how did you know?" asked Horvil.
    "Robby Robby," replied the channel manager. "It's his business to
know what's happening in the sales world. And it's my business to
know what he knows."
    Natch could feel the stares of his fellow fiefcorpers, but he paid
them no mind. His eyes were locked on that pulsing square labeled
Tuesday, December 6, hovering menacingly near Jara's fingers like an
accusation. How was it possible for three weeks to slip through his fingers and vanish without a trace? Already those days on the tube were
becoming ghostly, indistinct, something from a dream. Jara was right:
three weeks was an eternity in bio/logics. What unspeakable malice
had the black code inside him unleashed during those three weeks?
    "Natch ... ?" Vigal prodded gently.
    The fiefcorp master blinked hard, trying to get his mind back into
balance. He focused on the holographic calendar. How did he know
about the Patel Brothers' demo? The same way he had known about
Magan Kai Lee's failed incursion into his apartment building. Some
might label it intuition or foresight, but to Natch it was simply algebra;
all you needed to do was to churn through the variables and eliminate
the cruft, and you would inevitably arrive at the solution. Couldn't
they see the reddish aura surrounding that square labeled January I?
Couldn't they tell the Patel Brothers were giving a demo that day just
by looking at it?

    "So what did Robby find out about this demo?" Natch asked
Merri. "Any indication what they're doing?"
    "Not really. Just vague rumors. They've booked an auditorium at
the Thassel Complex, but it's not one of the larger-capacity halls.
We're guessing it's an industry-only event. Robby thinks he can get
one of us in without too much trouble."
    "I'll go," said Jara.
    The fiefcorp master nodded and began to pace once more. "So how
do we respond?"
    Horvil did some mental extrapolation of his own, then dropped his
face dramatically into the palms of his hands. "Shit," he said, nose poking
through his thick fingers, "you're not gonna put us through all that crap
again, are you, Natch? Another demo in less than seventy-two hours?"
    Natch shook his head, and the rest of the fiefcorpers released their
breath simultaneously. "There's no point," he said. "The demo at
Andra Pradesh showed everyone that we're the standard bearers in this
business now. If we scramble to beat Frederic and Petrucio to the
punch again, it'll just look like we're being defensive. Better for us to
schedule something on our own timetable. Take a little time to