Read Thousandth Night for Free Online Page B

you’d go for it. Are you ready for number two?”
    “Yes,”
she said, with the tone of someone half aware that they were walking into a
trap.
    “We
need a better distraction: one Burdock can’t walk away from after an hour or
two. We also need one that will keep everyone else tied up—and where our absences won’t be noticed.”
    “You’ve
thought of something, haven’t you?”
    “In
ten days you deliver your strand, Purslane.” I saw a flicker of concern in her
face, but I continued, knowing she would see the sense in my proposal. “This is
our only chance. By Gentian rules, every person on this island is required to
receive your strand. With, of course, one exception.”
    “Me,”
she said, with a slow, dawning nod. “I don’t have to be physically present,
since I already know my own memories. But what about. ..”
    “Me?
Well, that isn’t a problem either. Since I control the apparatus anyway, no one
else need know that I wasn’t on the island when your strand was threaded.”
    I
watched Purslane’s expression as she considered my idea. It was workable: I was
convinced of that. I had examined the problem from every conceivable angle,
looking for a hairline flaw—and I had found nothing. Well, nothing I could do
anything about, anyway.
    “But
you won’t know my strand,” Purslane said. “What if someone asks . . . ”
    “That
isn’t a problem, either. Once we’ve agreed on the strand, I can receive it
immediately. I just won’t tell anyone until the day after your threading. It’ll
be just as if I received it the same way as everyone else.”
    “Wait,”
Purslane said, raising a hand. “What you just said . . . about us ‘agreeing’ on
the strand.”
    “Um,
yes?”
    “Am
I missing something? There isn’t anything to agree on. I’ve already
prepared and edited my strand to my complete satisfaction. There isn’t a single
memory I haven’t already agonised over a thousand times: putting it in, taking
it out again.”
    “I’m
sure you’re right,” I said, knowing how much of a perfectionist Purslane was.
“But unfortunately, we need to make this a tiny bit more of an event.”
    “I’m
not following you, Campion.”
    “It
has to be an effective distraction. Your memories have to be electrifying—the
talk of the island for days afterwards. We have to talk them up before the
thread, so that everyone is in a state of appropriate expectation. Obviously,
there’s only one person who can do that beforehand. You’ll have to drop hints.
You’ll have to look smug and self-satisfied. You’ll have to pour lukewarm
praise on someone else’s strand.”
    “Oh,
God preserve us from lukewarm praise.”
    “Trust
me,” I said. “I know all about that.”
    She
shook her head. “I can’t do this, Campion. It isn’t me. I don’t boast.”
    “Breaking
into ships isn’t you either. The rules have changed. We have to be flexible.”
    “It’s
all very well you saying that. It’s me who’s being asked to lie here . .. and
anyway, why do I have to lie in the first place? Are you actually saying you
don’t think my real strand would be interesting enough?”
    “Tell
you what,” I said, as if the idea had just occurred to me. “Why don’t you let
me have a look at your strand tonight? I’ll speed-dream the scheduled strand to
make room for yours.”
    “And
then what?”
    “Then
we meet and discuss the material we have to work with. We’ll make a few tweaks
here and there—heighten this memory, downplay that one. Perhaps exercise a
smidgeon of economy with regard to the strict veracity of the events portrayed .
. . ”
    “Make
things up, you mean.”
    “We
need a distraction,” I said. “This is the only way, Purslane. If it helps . . .
 don’t think of it as lying. Think of it as creating a small untruth in order
to set free a larger truth. How does that sound?”
    “It
sounds very dangerous, Campion.”
    We
did it anyway.
    Ten
days was nowhere as much time as I would have