“Well, I knew there wasn’t anybody name of Armitage in that Screaming Fist. Looked it up.” She stroked the rusted flank of an iron doe. “You figure the little computer pulled him out of it? In that French hospital?” “I figure Wintermute,” Case said. She nodded. “Thing is,” he said, “do you think he knows he was Corto, before? I mean, he wasn’t anybody in particular, by the time he hit the ward, so maybe Wintermute just. . .” “Yeah. Built him up from go. Yeah…” She turned and they walked on. “It figures. You know, the guy doesn’t have any life going, in private. Not as far as I can tell. You see a guy like that, you figure there’s something he does when he’s alone. But not Armitage. Sits and stares at the wall, man. Then something clicks and he goes into high gear and wheels for Wintermute.” “So why’s he got that stash in London? Nostalgia?” “Maybe he doesn’t know about it,” she said. “Maybe it’s just in his name, right?” “I don’t get it,” Case said. “Just thinking out loud…. How smart’s an Al, Case?” “Depends. Some aren’t much smarter than dogs. Pets. Cost a fortune anyway. The real smart ones are as smart as the Turing heat is willing to let ’em get.” “Look, you’re a cowboy. How come you aren’t just flat- out fascinated with those things?” “Well,” he said, “for starts, they’re rare. Most of them are military, the bright ones, and we can’t crack the ice. That’s where ice all comes from, you know? And then there’s the Turing cops, and that’s bad heat.” He looked at her. “I dunno, it just isn’t part of the trip.” “Jockeys all the same,” she said. “No imagination.” They came to a broad rectangular pond where carp nuzzled the stems of some white aquatic flower. She kicked a loose pebble in and watched the ripples spread. “That’s Wintermute,” she said. “This deal’s real big, looks to me. We’re out where the little waves are too broad, we can’t see the rock that hit the center. We know something’s there, but not why. I wanna know why. I want you to go and talk to Wintermute.” “I couldn’t get near it,” he said. “You’re dreaming.” “Try.” “Can’t be done.” “Ask the Flatline.” “What do we want out of that Riviera?” he asked, hoping to change the subject. She spat into the pond. “God knows. I’d as soon kill him as look at him. I saw his profile. He’s a kind of compulsive Judas. Can’t get off sexually unless he knows he’s betraying the object of desire. That’s what the file says. And they have to love him first. Maybe he loves them, too. That’s why it was easy for Terzi to set him up for us, because he’s been here three years, shopping politicals to the secret police. Probably Terzi let him watch, when the cattle prods came out. He’s done eighteen in three years. All women age twenty to twenty-five. It kept Terzi in dissidents.” She thrust her hands into her jacket pockets. “Because if he found one he really wanted, he’d make sure she turned political. He’s got a personality like a Modern’s suit. The profile said it was a very rare type, estimated one in a couple of million. Which anyway says something good about human nature, I guess.” She stared at the white flowers and the sluggish fish, her face sour. “I think I’m going to have to buy myself some special insurance on that Peter.” Then she turned and smiled, and it was very cold. “What’s that mean?” “Never mind. Let’s go back to Beyoglu and find something like breakfast. I gotta busy night again, tonight. Gotta collect his stuff from that apartment in Fener, gotta go back to the bazaar and buy him some drugs….” “Buy him some drugs? How’s he rate?” She laughed. “He’s not dying on the wire, sweetheart. And it looks like he can’t work without that special taste. I like you better now, anyway, you aren’t so goddam skinny.” She smiled. “So I’ll go to Ali the dealer and stock up. You betcha.”
Armitage was waiting in their room at the Hilton. “Time to pack,” he said, and Case tried to find the man called Corto behind the pale blue eyes and the tanned mask. He thought of Wage, back in Chiba. Operators above a certain level tended to submerge their personalities, he knew. But Wage had had vices, lovers. Even, it had been rumored, chil- dren. The blankness he found in Armitage was something else. “Where to now?” he asked, walking past the man to stare down into the street. “What kind of climate?” “They don’t have climate, just weather,” Armitage said. “Here. Read the brochure.” He put something on the coffee table and stood. “Did Riviera check out okay? Where’s the Finn?” “Riviera’s fine. The Finn is on his way home.” Armitage smiled, a smile that meant as much as the twitch of some insect’s antenna. His gold bracelet clinked as he reached out to prod Case in the chest. “Don’t get too smart. Those little sacs are starting to show wear, but you don’t know how much.” Case kept his face very still and forced himself to nod. When Armitage was gone, he picked up one of the bro- chures. It was expensively printed, in French, English, and Turkish. FREESIDE–WHY WAIT?