by S. H. Jucha
“It was Cordelia’s premise that momentous events must take place for Alex, Renée, and Julien to initiate the strategy,” Oliver explained.
“Let’s see,” Maria said, pretending to focus her thoughts, with a hand on her chin. “What are the odds that those types of events have occurred in the Omnians’ orbit?”
Oliver laughed at Maria’s antics. Few SADEs dedicated their lives to a single individual, but Oliver believed it was his calling to assist such an important person as Maria Gonzalez. She was a critical individual to the well-being of the burgeoning New Terran society. In time, she would receive star services, and he would seek out other formative individuals. That was how he saw his abilities could best be put to use.
“What time is the fleet observing?” Maria asked.
“During the journey from Sol, Hector shifted chronometers daily to orient the passengers and crews to Prima’s cycle,” Oliver replied.
“I’d like to speak to the Omnia Ships’ fearless leaders,” Maria said, grinning.
When Oliver linked with her, Maria felt tingling anticipation. Like her dispenser, the implant was another gift from Alex, and she’d had hers for annuals. Unfortunately, the populace’s adoption of the Méridien technology was slow. Her implant had transformed her world, and she often wondered why New Terrans resisted the tech.
Communications with Oliver were seamless and efficient. However, when she participated in routine meetings with the president or his cabinet ministers, conversation seemed to drag to a near standstill.
Maria heard Alex and Renée’s chuckles.
Renée heard the amusement in Maria’s thought. She took no offense from the tease.
Julien interjected.
Maria sent,
Maria glanced at Oliver.
Julien shared the election results with Alex and Renée.
Renée commented.
Renée shook her head with a wry smile. She’d barely started to compare the figures, and Alex had already finished his perusal.
Maria sent.
Renée laughed.
Maria created a private connection with Oliver.
Oliver returned.
Maria offered to Oliver.
Maria laughed loud and long. Then she sent,
The audience heard Maria’s longing to take part in a great endeavor that sought to unite worlds.
After the call ended, Oliver regarded his friend. “Maria, regretfully, the president’s schedule is full tomorrow.”
“Is the midday meal booked?” Maria asked.
“No,” Oliver replied, brightening.
“Where was it that his wife said he wished to be able to eat? It was an exclusive club,” Maria queried.
“I’ve located the establishment. It’s called Seclusion. How many individuals do you wish to book?” Oliver inquired.
“Six,” Maria replied.
Oliver was silent for about four minutes. Then he focused on Ma
ria, smiled, and announced, “Done.”
“How?” Maria asked. “That club is supposed to be difficult to get a reservation unless you made them months in advance.”
“I informed the host that Alex Racine’s fleet approached New Terra, and he wished to dine at the club,” Oliver replied with a conspiratorial wink.
“What about the president?” Maria asked.
“I informed the president’s assistant of Alex’s arrival and requested a midday meal meeting with him. Then I added that they would meet at Seclusion. She booked him immediately,” Oliver explained.
“Devious SADE,” Maria remarked.
“And you’re thankful I am,” Oliver retorted.
* * * * *
Alex’s traveler descended toward the planet’s capital, Prima. At his request, he and his companions were early for the appointment with President Thurman.
The pilot was guided by Alex’s coordinates. They overflew the boulevard that led from the old spaceport to the government buildings. The ancient trees still lined the extensive lane. Now grav cars of all sizes flew under the auspices of controllers.
“Look,” Renée remarked. “The roadway has been removed. The boulevard has been planted as a meadow. There are wildflowers everywhere.” She squeezed Alex’s hand, as she surveyed the view from the controller.
The traveler overflew the nearby mountains north of the capital city. The majestic snowcapped mountains were as Alex had last recorded them, decades ago, with his then newly installed implant.
The next destination was a comfortable house buried in the forest. It was the site of the Racine home. Alex’s parents had been too old for the cell gen injections to do them much good. Furthermore, they’d spent too much time in space without the protection from solar winds that modern ships allowed. They’d passed away within months of each other while Alex was fighting Artifice’s forces in the Talus system.
As the traveler hovered over the house, the passengers went silent, and Renée leaned her head against Alex’s substantial shoulder. When Alex’s curiosity was satisfied, he signaled the pilot to head for the restaurant.
Like most new buildings in Prima, retail services occupied the uppermost levels to accommodate their customers. Shoppers or diners landed briefly on the rooftops, disembarked, and grav cars lifted. Then the individuals descended via grav lifts to the floors they required.
Recent arrivals to Seclusion paused at the lift’s entrance to see who occupied the traveler that floated above the roof.
A pair of SADEs leapt through the dropped hatch and landed lightly. Oliver was recognized by the individuals intending to enjoy a midday meal. The other SADE wasn’t.
Oliver helped Maria Gonzalez from the ship, and the waiting patrons realized that something was afoot. Maria had never dined at their lofty establishment. Typically, Seclusion’s club members invited friends or associates to eat with them. However, exceptions were occasionally made for other individuals.
When the next person jumped from the traveler, everything became clear to the club members. The man was a New Terran of immense size.
“Alex Racine,” a woman whispered in awe and admiration.
If the patrons were in doubt of their companion’s identification of Alex, the final passenger to exit the ship, a striking Méridien woman, verified her assumption. The unique pairing of man and woman was known across human worlds.
“Do you think they’re dining alone?” a male patron asked his associates.
“I doubt it. Alex Racine and Maria Gonzalez aren’t likely to frequent a club like this for no reason,” another male patron commented.
The club members watched with interest as the group approached them.
The lift doors were open, and as Alex and his companions swept past the spellbound New Terrans, he said, “Thank you, Sers, for holding the lift for us.”
When no one replied, and Alex and his friends had entered the lift, he added, “Are you coming?” That galvanized the club members into action.
As expected the women crowded around Alex, and the men occupied spaces near Renée.
Seclusion’s host saw a daily parade of New Terran dignitaries, wealthy patrons, and CEOs come through the restaurant’s opulent doors. She greeted them equally, placing a welcoming smile on her face that rarely reached her eyes.
When the restaurant’s doors slid aside, the host was cued via ear comm. She had seen to the seating of the recent arrivals and hurried to greet the new patrons. For the first time in several annuals, she beamed, and it reached her eyes.
“Welcome to Seclusion,” the host said. “We’re pleased that you chose our establishment. Follow me, if you will?”
Deliberately, the Seclusion’s owner, having been informed of his august customers’ reservation had assigned an exclusive table on the restaurant’s mezzanine level. That enabled the host to lead Alex, Maria, and their companions through much of the lower floor to reach the stairs to the upper level.
The establishment’s patrons were treated to a view of the Omnians and the New Terra’s envoy to Omnia. Diners paused to watch the group pass until they disappeared up the stairs.
Julien and Oliver had heard nearly every comment made by the diners. Nothing was worth repeating, and the recordings were quickly deleted.
The host indicated the digital menu output in front of every individual and introduced the human waiter, who would attend them.
“Your concerns are appreciated,” Maria said to the host. “However, you should be aware that everyone seated at this table either has an implant or is a SADE.”
The host was taken aback, and she gazed around the table.
“SADE,” Julien said, partially raising one hand.
“Me too,” Alex added.
“Me three,” Renée added, which had the host making apologies and excusing herself.
The young waiter frowned at the table’s occupants. “Seriously?” he asked. “Him, I believe,” he added, pointing to Julien. “But you two move too much like you’re human.”
“We are,” Renée admitted.
“Thought so,” the waiter said, laughing politely. “Good one.” He glanced at the empty seat, and asked, “Are you waiting for another guest?”
“We are,” Alex said. “Please ask the host to allow President Thurman the same extended tour of the establishment that we received.”
The waiter gave Alex a wide grin, and he left quickly to deliver the news to the host.
“Making a point, are you, Alex and Renée?” Maria asked.
Renée replied, “If New Terrans had widely adopted implants, they could tell the difference between a bio ID and a comm ID. That would especially be true for individuals who worked at a place such as this.”
“Attitudes like that have always made the two of you not as well-liked as you could be by New Terrans,” Maria replied.
“Perhaps, that isn’t our primary concern,” Julien said. “There are greater challenges in the galaxy than worrying why one society prefers xenophobia over racial inclusion.”
Oliver prepared to reply, but a signal from Maria halted his action.
“I don’t disagree with the severity of your challenges,” Maria said. “It just doesn’t make my job any easier.”
“Point taken,” Alex replied. “We’ll behave ourselves with the president.”
8: The Survey
President Thurman’s two-seater grav car landed on the rooftop of the Seclusion’s building. While he should have been focused on the upcoming meeting, he couldn’t help strutting toward the lift doors, as his personal assistant rode the grav car upward. Gerhardt believed attending the exclusive club signaled his arrival at the pinnacle of New Terran society. He was unaware that it was due to a SADE’s machinations.
The president’s entrance and promenade through the restaurant provided a level of attention that rivaled what he’d envisioned. Patrons politely waved and greeted him, and their eyes never left
him as he ascended the stairs.
Upstairs, the host stepped aside, while the table’s occupants stood to welcome the president. Gerhardt truly appreciated his implant, which he’d received about two annuals ago. He’d recorded every moment since descending from his grav car, and he intended to save the vid for the rest of his life.
While engaging in polite conversation, the humans ordered drinks and food.
After their orders were delivered, Alex wasted no time introducing the reason for the meeting. “Sol will be hosting a conclave of worlds within the coming annual,” he said. “We’d like you, President Thurman, and a SADE of your choice to attend.”
“You probably know that I was elected only recently,” Gerhardt replied. “I would find it impossible to be absent from my duties for ... what?”
“About half an annual,” Alex replied.
“That’s much too long,” Gerhardt replied. “Maybe I could attend this conclave in two or three more years.”
“That might place New Terra at a disadvantage,” Alex pointed out.
“For what? To adopt more Omnian technology?” Gerhardt retorted.
“I was thinking about the gates?” Alex replied quietly.
“What gates?” Gerhardt asked, slowly setting his utensil full of food on the plate.
“Alliance space is crowded with domes that utilize quantum-paired gates to instantaneously transport individuals and small loads of equipment and supplies between worlds,” Julien explained.
Gerhardt and Maria stared at the Omnians in amazement, while Oliver queried Julien for information.
When the president regained some modicum of composure, he asked, “Are you intending to connect worlds with these gates?”
“If they wish,” Alex replied. “That’s what the conclave will decide. It’ll be an opportunity for leaders of many diverse worlds to meet.”
“When you say diverse worlds, I’m assuming that this conclave will be limited to human worlds,” Gerhardt said slowly and carefully.