They dashed through two more intersections without slowing. Jim’s grip on the arm rests tightened until his knuckles turned white.
“Doris enrolled us in school this morning,” Colin commented, unaffected by the perceived danger.
“Ah... yes... er… you do that.”
“They have to put us in remedial classes so we can catch up.”
The transit was picking up speed as it turned onto a main road. It passed through a small suburban shopping area. Michael watched the people traveling past stores on the moving sidewalk.
“We met a couple of the kids and...”
“Whoa!” Jim interrupted. “That was a blind corner!!” He turned his head trying not to think about the road in front of them.
Colin’s facial expression displayed a mild feeling of dejection over the interruption. “Dad, don’t you want to hear about us at school?”
“Oh yes,” Jim said, trying desperately to sound enthusiastic, “you said you were at school. What happened?”
“We met these two boys and they asked us over to their house on the weekend. They have the latest battle simulation games connected to their 3V and...”
“Holy hell!” Jim’s second interruption was due to a larger vehicle traversing their path at a crossroad. The clearance between them was less than two meters. Jim was now in a heavy sweat. “Tell me when we’re home please.” Jim covered his eyes with his hands.
“Dad, you look sick,” Michael’s voice said close to Jim’s ear.
Colin tugged at Jim’s arm. “We’re coming up to the express tube. You’ve got to see this.”
Jim uncovered an eye then covered it again. “No I don’t.”
During his brief glance, Jim saw that the road had widened to about six lanes. There were no dividing lines so he couldn’t tell exactly how wide it was. Ahead were the entrances to six tunnels. The heavy traffic was shuffling like a deck of cards at well over one hundred k.p.h., each vehicle lining up with the intended tunnel. He had looked just as a vehicle cut across in front if them, with no more than a meter clearance.
“Here comes the airlock.”
The excitement in Colin’s voice forced Jim’s hands tighter on his face.
“Cowabunga!”
“You missed it daaaad,” Michael whined. “It’s rad. You head for this airlock door at full speed, then. Pow! It springs open just before you crash.”
“Then another one comes up,” Colin added.
“Airlock?” Jim peeked again. They were in a tunnel. The transit in front was one hundred meters away. He dropped his hands.
Colin and Michael were staring at him.
“You weren’t scared were you dad?” Michael asked.
“As a matter of fact, yes I was.”
“But, we’ve seen you skydive. You didn’t look scared then.”
“In skydiving, I know my gear, I know the plane and I know the pilot. I don’t know who’s operating this thing. See, when you’re used to a certain way, things to do that keep you safe, it’s hard to change. If anyone from here rode with us in the car they’d be scared too. To them a human guiding the car without the aid of a computer would probably frighten the hell out of them.”
“We were scared first time. Colin nearly pissed himself.”
“I didn’t,” Colin protested. “You pooped yourself. I could smell it.”
A horrible thought crossed Jim’s mind. He moved slightly to check. He hadn’t.
“I’ll get used to it.” Jim sat back and relaxed, then turned to Colin. “Airlock? Why an airlock?”
“Doris said they pump the air down the tube so it goes as fast as the transits so there’s no air resistance,” Colin said.
“Doesn’t the pumping take energy?”
“She said that they use the wind and it’s done with the sun heating something up on the ground up there and hot air rising or something. I think she said they get some energy out of it ‘cause the temperature’s different down here. You should ask her, I didn’t understand.”
“There’s also tunnels a lot longer that change the weather,” Michael said. “They send wet air down them to places where they have dry air and that makes it rain.”
“Humid air,” Colin corrected.
“Interesting,” Jim said.
Thirty minutes later they emerged from the tunnel. This time Jim forced himself to keep his eyes open. Along a suburban road, the huge properties reminded him of Beverly Hills in Los Angeles. These were not movie stars homes, their owners were in the upper middle class.
Jim sat back, mouth open, when they glided into their own driveway. The house was vaguely the style of a southern plantation mansion. Three story, white, with six large columns supporting a porch on the second and third floors.
They got out. Jim stood looking around.
“Doris said we can get a bigger place when we want,” Colin said excitedly, running to the front door.
“Bigger? Why?”
Chapter 6
It was Jim’s third morning in his new home. He wandered down to breakfast wearing a robe Doris had selected. He needed clothes. All of his were still in quarantine. On the first full day after his medical procedure Doris introduced him to V shopping.
The family 3V was a small room with plain gray walls and comfortable armchairs. The controls were voice activated. One sat in a chair, verbally requesting a specific channel.
Every large store in the city had V shopping access. Doris explained that while viewing, an autoserve, with a camera mounted, wandered the actual store for you. Activated by voice command it picked up, turned, displayed and/or operated whatever caught your eye. The 3V room in front of the viewer lit up in a full three dimensional display of the store and desired items. Jim suppressed the urge to reach out and touch the merchandise as it floated in front of him. If you wished to purchase, you could do it with a direct transfer from the bank. It was delivered by a utility, a vehicle the next size up from a transit, roughly equivalent to a van on Old Earth. Major items were delivered by a transport, the counterpart of a truck.
The robe, one of a number of items purchased, was similar to a kimono. It did up in front with a type of Velcro that didn’t make a ripping sound when undone. Doris had informed him that it was quite fashionable.
He liked his house. It just took a lot of getting used to. Last night he had had an argument with an automated vacuum cleaner. He was getting himself a glass of juice in the kitchen. The voice activated computer would have had it delivered to his bedroom, but Jim felt like a walk downstairs. The near silent vacuum cleaner had crept up behind him in the dark. When it delivered its standard ‘Do not trip over me’ message, he hit it with a chair. Jim took a mental note to have it repaired. It now vacuums in circles and can’t find its way back to the household appliance store room.
About the only thing he objected to was the autosanitiser, autosan for short. It was the modern equivalent to toilet paper and used a pulsating jet of water followed by warm air drying. Jim objected to this mechanical intrusion on his privacy.
It was Ralph and the boys that really appreciated the house. The boys took to operating the automated equipment a lot faster than Jim. They instantly invented many games using the new equipment. ‘Ambush’ was their favorite. They hid with Ralph somewhere in the house then commanded an autoserve to look for them. When it passed, they leapt out making the snapping sounds of the laser pistols they had heard on 3V. Ralph especially liked the game. He was the noisiest, dashing around barking and snapping at the tracks of the victim.
Jim stood in front of the ultra sonic oven, a packet of breakfast food in one hand. The personal dietary system computer had given him a list of recommended breakfasts. It was based on previous meals and had calculated what was necessary for a balanced intake.
“Transit in the driveway. Vehicle signature, Dr. Heller.” The house computer announced.
Jim looked up from the packet’s label to answer the household main computer. “Let her in when she gets to the
door. Information on arrival. I’m in the kitchen, the closest one.”
He went back to reading the label. “Ultra sonic setting, eight F.” He put the packet in the oven and touched the control marked eight then F. “Hmmm,” he shrugged. “Just like my microwave.”
A couple of seconds later, “Your meal is ready,” informed him that he could remove it, which he did and put it on a china plate. The packet popped open when it touched the cold surface. “Well, this is easy to get used too. Same old thing, only faster and it talks.”
The food, labeled ‘Harvy’s Ten Grain Doffle’, was tasty and chewy. He ate it with a fork.
The kitchen was bright and sunny. Natural sunlight was piped in from the roof through a series of optical mechanisms. The entire roof was devoted to either the directing of sunlight inside or electrical production. When a room was occupied, the computer channeled the light into it. When unoccupied, the lights went out automatically and followed the occupant where ever they went.
Appliances lined the counters. The refrigeration unit was relatively small, reserved for open food packages. Even though the majority of the meals eaten were pre-prepared, there were facilities for cooking. A light plastic film covered fresh food. Jim presumed that irradiation was used as a preservative.
The kitchen table was circular, sitting on a single pedestal. It was made of a synthetic material, molded in one piece.
Doris entered the kitchen. “Got up so late? It’s ten o’clock,”
“Haven’t you heard, I’m rich? I can do what I want.”
She sat down at the table. “So you can. Is this what you’re going to do for the rest of your life?”
Jim smiled and looked up from his breakfast. “No, just taking a break, as per your advice. I have a few business ideas of my own I want to try.”
He picked up the dish and looked at a kitchen appliance marked ‘Colbins Dishamatic’. “There’s something I need instruction on,” pointing at the stack of dirty dishes next to it. “I put a plate in the slot marked dishes and the thing rejected it. Told me it was contaminated. What am I supposed to do, wash it first?”
“Did you only try one plate?”
“Yep, didn’t want to break the machine.”
“Try the one you have now.”
Jim got up, put the empty package in the opening marked ‘Containers’, then the fork in the one marked ‘Cutlery’ and, after a brief hesitation, the dish in the ‘Dishes’ slot. The machine started up with a soft whirr. “Seems to be working now.”
“The plate must have been contaminated. It takes the food scraps mixed with water and pipes it to the garden as fertilizer.”
“Hmmmm,” Jim said peeking in the dish slot. “All this recycling and energy efficiency every where I go, is that due to Old Earth paranoia?” He turned back to Doris. The thought had occurred to him that among the general population he might be considered a filthy barbarous animal. He was worried that the average person wouldn’t invite him to dinner for fear that he would drop his pants and crap on the dining room table.
“No, it’s just logical. Old Earth is more known for its heroes and legends.”
Jim sat down again and leaned back with his hands behind his head. “I thought that little was known about Earth. Where did they get the legends from?”
“The early settlers. They didn’t have the capacity to chronicle their stories, the recording devices were full of survival information. They passed stories down by word of mouth.”
“Can you give me an example?”
Doris thought for a moment then raised a finger. “There’s one old children’s story, a very popular one that every child can recount from memory. It’s about the brave Lord Schwartscom. The Evil Arab Prince Hassan kidnapped Princess Kiwatie. Lord Schwartscom marched his gallant men into the desert through a great storm, created by the prince’s evil wizards and rescued the princess. The story is more involved than that, but I think you get the idea, total fantasy.”
Jim thought about the story for a moment then the slow, broad grin of amused recognition crossed his face. “Did balls of fire streak though the sky and try to land on the lord’s men?”
“No, large magic rocks,” Doris said sounding surprised, “thrown by giants known as Scuds. But the lord’s magicians destroyed them with lightning. Why? Did you have the same story on Earth?”
“No, but I may have known a few of the gallant men.”
“Huh?”
This was the first time he had seen Doris confused. “Lord Schwartscom was American General Norman Schwarzkopf. Prince Hassan was a dictator named Saddam Hussein. There was no princess, it was a country named Kuwait. The scuds weren’t giants, they were ballistic missiles and finally, the magician’s lightning was American antiaircraft missiles. It was a war a number of years before I left Earth, they code named it Operation Desert Storm.”
“Wow!” Doris replied in astonishment.
Jim heard the clattering sound of Ralph’s nails on the floor and turned to see him enter the room. Ralph stopped and sat, looking up at him.
“Good boy,” Jim said and scratched him behind the ears.
Doris took a long look at him then looked up at Jim. “A real German Shepherd,” she said. “The only one in existence.”
“Doc told me about that. Half the dog breeds I knew on Earth are extinct.”
“Most people think German Shepherds are mythical like dragons, unicorns and guinea pigs.”
“Guinea pigs are mythical?” Jim laughed.
“They were real animals?” Doris said.
“Sure were. Our neighbor’s kids had two of them.”
“Did they talk?”
“No, they just made a loud squeaking sound.”
“Transit in driveway. Vehicle signature Mr. Pelridge.” Announced the house computer.
“Information at door. The boys will be right down. Information to Colin and Michael. Your friends are here.”
Doris laughed and reached across the table giving Jim’s forearm an affectionate squeeze. “You’re really getting the hang of it, aren’t you?”
“That part I am. You should see me and that bed. I’m scared it’s going to change the sheets while I’m still in it.”
“That only happens on 3V comedies,” said Doris who seemed quite amused by Jim’s fears. “The boys have invited some kids over?”
“Yes, met them at school.” Jim thought for a moment. “Say, do you really think that school is a good idea just yet.”
“What would’ve been one of the first things to happen if you had arrived at that military post?”
“Yep, I would’ve put them in school.”
Doris’ voice became serious. “How was Michael last night?”
“I was up with him for a couple of hours. He was crying again,” Jim said, turning serious himself.
“That’s to be expected. It’ll take some time for him to adjust. I take it that Colin is still assuming the role of assistant defender of the group?”
“Correct, he takes his turn at night with Michael, usually before I get there. It seems to give him a purpose.”
“That’s why I suggested that they share a bedroom for a while. They can support each other. You have your own problems to deal with.” Doris looked up when she heard a thumping noise in the hallway. “Can I observe them play?”
“Go ahead. Doc Redmond sent some of their toys over. The first load has been decontaminated and I’ve got to get myself dressed. We can talk about things later.”
He liked Doris. She was exceptionally intelligent, also good looking with a sense of humor. If Jim’s divorce had gone through before he left he might have inquired as to her marital status. The situation, as it was, gave him a still married feeling. Even though his wife had been dead for two millennia, hours of thought had not resolved that emotion.
* * *
Jim climbed the stairs. Halfway up he stepped aside to allow four children and a dog to bound past.
“Good morning Mr. Young,” was the gre
eting from the older of the two visitors.
Jim had heard their names the night before, but couldn’t remember them. The midweek play session was arranged on the V phone between the four. Jim was called in to have a few words with Mrs. Pelridge and exchange permissions for the visit.
The school week, on this planet, was four days, divided in two groups of two. Days off were weekends and Wednesday. The midweek break was reserved for home study and 3V classes. The visitors were allowed over provided they catch a forty minute 3V nature class in the early afternoon.
Doris passed him near the top of the stairs. “Here I go again. Now you know how I get my exercise.”
Jim smiled. “You should have an autoserve follow them with a camera.”
“Tried that once,” she said over her shoulder. “The kids I was observing outran it.”
Jim spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon familiarizing himself with the garden maintenance devices. He had been told earlier that mowing the lawn was unnecessary. The grass only grew to two centimeters length and strangled any other varieties that tried to encroach. Watering was performed by automatic underground soakers. Moisture sensors connected to a computer regulated the quantity and areas to water.
The most fascinating gadget he found was the auto cultivator. It worked its way down the orderly rows of flowers, removing weeds and trimming dead leaves. Occasionally it paused at a plant that was not performing as well as the others and injected what Jim presumed to be plant food into the soil at its base.
The garden and lawns were as attractive and restful as the park adjacent to the lab. Trees dotted the gently rolling landscape and Jim noted their near perfect symmetry. He wondered what device it took to maintain them in that state. Whatever it was, Jim smiled to himself as he realized that he owned it.
The house next door could be seen some six hundred meters away. Jim made a mental note to find out about the current protocol involving neighbors. He felt like walking over, knocking on the door, and saying ‘Hi there, I’m your new neighbor’, but decided that it was best to ask Doris first. He didn’t wish to appear pushy if that wasn’t a common practice at this time.
The Time Stone (The Time Stone Trilogy Book 1) Page 10