<meta name="LineWrap" content="true"><TITLE>SR_Bk1 0036</TITLE><A HREF="SR_Bk1-0037.txt">Next (Page 37)</A><BR><P><P>"And I'll take a camera, too," Daptin said.<P><P>"Cool your jets, tiger. I can take just so much dead-on sarcastic wit in a day," Cursive said as she got up to walk out of the room. "Food'll be here in fifteen."<P><P>"Okay," Elaine said.<P><P>A quarter hour later Cursive arrived back with the food, and the four entered a conference room on the third floor of The Caxopy Group, along with the Cup of Coffee.<P><P>"So I wanna discuss this whole killing thing," Daptin said.<P><P>"What do you mean?" Elaine asked.<P><P>"I mean, a lot of the stuff we got at Basement-Wall-Thursday seems designed with killing people in mind. And I know, I mean, there was a light atmosphere there, but like, are we really gonna be expected to kill people?" Daptin wondered.<P><P>"Whereas this line of work might seem silly and fun to the uninitiated," Cursive said, "we still speak the universal language--violence. One branching of violence is killing. When one bars your path, he can resist all reasoning, but he cannot resist superior force, by definition. The gentle is myth. While it might seem snuggly to harmlessly tranquilize all opponents, the truth is that when dealing in violence, serious injury and murder is unavoidable."<P><P>"I have something which might help you with this moral queasiness," Elaine said as she walked over to a desk, opened a drawer, and took out a black metal coin, a little bigger than a silver dollar.<P><P>"What is it?" Fake asked.<P><P>"Have a look," Elaine said as she handed the coin to Fake.<P><P>Fake took the coin and examined it. On the front it had the face of an angry looking fellow wearing circle-framed glasses with wind blowing through his hair. Below the portrait were the words "Him: Scientist". On the back was a rendition of a sort of huge pillar with some people at its base staring up at it. Several eight-digit numbers also adorned the back.<P><P>"Cool," Fake said. "My Dad would love this. He's big into numismatics."<P><P>"No one on Earth would recognize it," Cursive said.<P><P>"Let me see," Daptin said.<P><P>Fake handed the coin to Daptin across the big table, as Cursive smiled at Elaine.<P><P>"Pretty neat. What is he, a famous scientist around here?" Daptin said. <P><P>Elaine smiled but said nothing.<P><P>"What's wrong?" Daptin said.<P><P>"Feel any different?" asked Cursive.<P><P>"No--should I?" Daptin said.<P><P>"Not too different," Elaine said, smiling. "But you are changed."<P><P>"Am I changed too?" asked Fake.<P><P>"Yes," Cursive said.<P><P>"What is it?" asked Daptin, placing the coin carefully onto the table.<P><P>"That's a killable coin. By touching it, you're no longer killable. Congratulations," Cursive said.<P><P>"What?" Daptin asked, contorting his face in confusion.<P><P>"You can't be killed anymore," Elaine said.<P><P>"Me too?" Fake asked.<P><P>"Yup," Cursive replied.<P><P>"But," Daptin said, "we're like, we're mortals, right? Mortal means we're going to die, right? So what--"<P><P>"--as mortals we will eventually die, unlike the gods, who live forever," Elaine said. "But with this technique, we can prevent premature death."<P><P>"So how long do we live?" Fake asked.<P><P>"Hundreds, thousands, even tens of thousands of years," Cursive said. "A drop in the bucket of a god's lifetime. But enough of this dark talk--let's eat! Lots of pizza for all, and beverages galore."<P><P>Cursive took a number of cups and cans out of a bag.<P><P>"Where's my Mr. Pibb?" Daptin asked.<P><P>"All out. I got you Blueberry Mello Yello instead," Cursive said, handing him a blue and yellow can. <P><P>"Never heard of blueberry-flavored Mello Yello," Daptin said, examining the can.<P><P>"Now you have. And here's your antimatter iced espresso, Fake, my dear," Cursive said, handing Fake a black and bright-orange bottle.<P><P>"There isn't real antimatter in here, is there?" Fake asked, taking the bottle.<P><P>"A trace amount of antineutrons.<BR><A HREF="SR_Bk1-0037.txt">Next (Page 37)</A>