by Simon Royle
“Get me Sir Thomas, please.”
Sir Thomas’s image came up. I studied his face for signs of the evil that I knew was there. His eyes were small, his head nearly bald, kept close shaven. Once more it struck me how unlike my uncle I looked. Why didn’t I ever question that?
The Devstick said, “I’m sorry, but Sir Thomas is offline at this time. Please send your message to his inbox, and he will get to it in due course.”
I went back to the Dev on the table and began to package up more coherently what I had written and collected as the outline for his memoir. If I was going to send it to him, it had to be in a format that would pass inspection. I got into it and the document was taking shape well when the Devstick on the table buzzed and vibrated nearer to my hand. I picked it up and saw that it was a call from Sir Thomas.
“Jonah, sorry I couldn’t take your call. Things are little bit hectic at the moment, what with one thing and another.”
“Yes Uncle, no problem. I was just wondering when we might get together. I’ve been working away on the outline to your memoir since we played golf and I’d like you to review it for direction before I go any further.”
“Oh yes. I see. Well all right, uhm, perhaps we could get together this evening. Would that be convenient?”
“Well actually I was thinking of taking a trip, and I was hoping to get going today so that I can be back in time for the weekend with Mariko.”
“I see. Where are you planning on going?”
“I want to travel to the locations where the major events in your life occurred. I’ve finished quite a detailed overview of all the significant events tied into a timeline of your life. Beginning with your birth - in fact going back beyond that to the latter lives of your parents, Sir Humphrey and Lady Oliver - and up to the present day. Perhaps I could just send it to you and if you feel it’s the right direction. I’ll start visiting the places I mention in the outline.”
“Right. That makes sense. It isn’t too long is it? I’m awfully busy at the moment.”
“No, Uncle, it isn’t long, and it’s pretty straightforward. What you’d expect. The war, the forming of the nation, Bo Vinh’s assassination, Oliver Foundation, your rise in UNPOL and then for the last part I want to focus on the Tag Law.”
“Yes, that sounds all right. Send it over and I’ll have a look over it.”
“I just sent it to you.”
“Yes, I’ve got it. Hold on a moment and let me quickly scan it.”
I waited while he read the file that I’d sent him. I could see that he was reading something – his lips were moving. I kept my silence. He turned and looked out of my Devscreen face on again.
“Yes, that seems fine. Good job. I’m looking forward to reading it. That’s quite a trip you’re planning there, Jonah. London, Paris, New Boston.”
“Yes, well I was hoping that you’d like the outline. I should be back before the weekend.” Sir Thomas smiled at me through the Devscreen. I smiled back.
“Good. Well safe travels then.”
“There was one other thing I wanted to clear with you?”
“Yes.”
“I was thinking about meeting with Annika Bardsdale. It might help. You know, get a feel for the strength of their case.”
“Will she meet with you? She must be aware that you are my nephew, and of my support for Tag.”
“Well, she knows I’m an arbitrator and if I pitch it that you and I are not totally in agreement on the Tag Law then I think she might be intrigued enough to at least meet me.”
Sir Thomas leaned back in his Siteazy, his hands folded over his stomach. He looked directly at the camera. I thought I might have pushed it too far. My thoughts scrambled for something to say that would convince him, but he interrupted.
“Yes, that might be useful. But are you sure you want to do that?”
“It’s worth a try isn’t it? If they’ve got something in the wings she might give it away.”
“You feel pretty strongly about this Tag Law then?”
“I know how important it is to you and, as I told you on the golf course, I’m for it although I haven’t broadcast that fact.”
Sir Thomas smiled at my words. I thought I might have overdone it but he seemed convinced. I smiled back.
“Goodbye then, Uncle. I’ll be in touch as soon as I return.”
“Goodbye, Jonah. Safe travels.” And his image disappeared from the screen of my Devstick.
***
The Lev to London had been tiring, crowded and noisy, when travelers had joined the Express Lev at the stop in Paris for the last fifteen minutes. The final leg of the trip to London.
Tossing my beach bag on an overstuffed ancient chair next to the large double sleeper, I sat down and thought about the call I had to make. Annika Bardsdale, head of the Social Responsibility Party. Not a major party but still with significant numbers. More of a leverage player in large Popvotes, able to swing their followers’ voting to one cause or another and thereby keeping themselves as a fulcrum in politics. They mostly campaigned on green issues and civil rights.
I picked up my Devstick and called the SRP office. The Interactive Voice Receptionist led me smoothly through a list of options but the one I wanted wasn’t there. I could register with them, donate, complain, recommend a cause, join a march, but I couldn’t speak to them. I didn’t have her direct contact details, so I decided that the only other thing to do was to walk down to her offices. I had hoped that I could call in advance and make the meeting a bit more normal than me just walking in off the street, but it seemed that this was the only option. I clicked through to their site.
I must be tired, I thought. All the pressure from those Lev tubes had squeezed my brain so it wasn’t functioning. Right there on the front page was a huge banner suggestion to send a message to Annika: Go Here.
I thumbed Go Here, and with a quick glance in the wall-length glass mirror opposite the sleeper to check my appearance, set my Devstick on the table next to the sleeper and looking directly into it, said, “Hi Annika. I am Arbitrator Jonah Oliver – Sir Thomas Bartholomew Oliver’s nephew. I am in London on my way to New Boston. I hoped we might have a chance to sit down together and talk. I believe that I may be able to help you with your goal to stop the Tag Law. I’m attaching my contact details with this message. Hope to hear from you. Thanks, Jonah.” And with what I hoped was a convincing smile reached over and thumbed End Message.
I needed a shower and I needed some clothes. I spent the next ten minutes ordering clothes and asked for them to be sent to the hotel. Stripping off, I walked through to the outlet and was surprised to find that unlike the building and the room, the outlet was modern, with a sanitizer dryer and shower unit with a mirror running the length of the room. I took out my shaver and got rid of the stubble that had formed over the day. The Dev in the outlet read 11:45am, so 5:30pm in New Singapore. I wasn’t that tired but I was hoping that I could get some sleep before meeting with Annika. If she wanted to meet, I guessed it would be after leaving her contribution which typically means 6pm. I wouldn’t be at my sharpest after going for seventeen hours without sleep. I stepped into the shower and my Devstick in the room buzzed.
I wrapped a towel around my waist and went back out into the room, feeling a bit cool, the room’s temp was set too low. I picked up the Devstick – it was Annika. I thumbed show my face only for the transmission and answered.
“Hello Annika,” I smiled at the beautiful Annika Bardsdale. Prior to becoming involved in politics Annika had been a model and a flick star. To say star is a bit of an understatement, though. She was a mega star, until she quit saying that the flicks had given her enough of a platform to be of use and she entered politics. That had been twenty years ago but she was still an extremely beautiful woman.
“Hello, Jonah. I must say having the nephew of Sir Thomas, my most vocal opponent, call me to say he thinks he can stop the Tag Law was not what I was expecting when I got out of my sleeper this morning.”
An image of Annika in her sleeper popped into my head. I was glad I’d said face only, otherwise this conversation could have got very embarrassing.
“Yes, I imagine that would be a surprise. I have to tell you that I have already informed my uncle of my decision in this matter and while of course he’s not happy about it, he accepts it as my personal choice.”
“I see. And how do you think you may be able to help?”
“I’d prefer if we talked about that offline, face to face. Would that be possible?”
“Sure, when and where would you like to meet?”
“Whenever’s good for you. I can travel anywhere.”
“OK, come over to the offices. You know where they are right?”
“Yes. What time?”
“About six would be fine. We can meet here and then go get something to eat if you’d like?”
“Sure, that sounds fine. I’ll see you at six.” I smiled and she smiled back. Putting the Devstick on the side table, I remembered my promise to Mariko about sexual partners. I fell on the sleeper and shut my eyes. I could shower later.
“Hold all calls and wake me up at 5:30pm,” I said to my Devstick and shut my eyes.
Five and half hours of deep sleep had restored my energy. It felt good to be doing something. Anything was better than inaction. Mariko’s talk with me in the morning had given me confidence and renewed my faith in our cause. I felt a sharp spike of a ‘sense of her’ within me. I missed her: thinking how lovely it would be to walk these streets with her, without a care in the world.
The Social Responsibility Party headquarters was in an old brick building on the border of the city where fire and shockwave had not reached. Much of Richmond had survived and had remained largely unchanged over the years with many buildings being declared national treasures for the architecture and style of a time gone by. I was dressed in a long coat, wearing thick woolen leg outers and a silk top outer with a light woolen outer over that. The colors I had chosen were differing shades of grey. I had a scarf wrapped around my neck, defending it from a temperature that had now dropped to one cel.
I walked up the steps and pressed the intercom. It was 6pm, midnight in New Singapore, but I had slept for a few hours and was rested. I was also hungry and looking forward to having dinner with this beautiful woman. The door buzzed open and I went in. Annika was waiting in the entrance hall. She looked even more beautiful in person, standing perhaps at one hundred and seventy two cents tall, with dark brown hair sweeping off her high forehead down across her breasts. Her cheekbones were pronounced, and she had the largest blue eyes I’ve ever seen. She smiled and her full lips stretched out wide, putting a dimple in her cheeks.
I paused and gave her a polite wai, which she returned, bowing at the same height to indicate that she thought we were equals.
“Come with me,” she said, turning. She was wearing a long black dress open at the back in a vee that went to her buttocks. I followed her down a flight of stairs and we turned left into a room that had a fire. Small windows just at ground level would provide light in the day, but it was dark and the only light came from the fire.
“Isn’t that a bit environmentally unsound,” I said, nodding at the fire as she sat down in a large comfy looking Siteazy next to the fire.
“No, the carbon is recycled, as is the material burning. In fact we need a bit more carbon than we’re getting in this part of the world.”
“Oh, I confess I don’t know much about the environment. I sort of assumed that since the raft of green laws most of that battle had been won.”
“It has, but there’s never a time when we can relax. The Ents are always looking to lower costs, cut corners, and before you know it you’ve got a mess on your hands.”
“Yes, sure, that I do know.”
“Jonah, you don’t mind me calling you Jonah, do you? And please do call me Annika.”
“No, not all, Annika.”
“Good. Could you please lay your Devstick on the table and strip. When you’re done, please place your devstick and clothes into the box next to the fire.” She said, and nodded at a small black box with an open lid to the left of the fire.
“I’m sorry,” I said. I wasn’t sure I had heard her correctly.
“Please turn your Devstick off and strip. I want to make sure that it is just us having this conversation.”
I looked at her for a moment and then took off my scarf and put it on the arm of the Siteazy opposite hers. She was sitting less than a meter away from me. I stripped off the tops outers. The room was warm but still I got goose bumps. Annika sat with her hand under her chin, watching me with a slight smirk on that wide mouth of hers. I thought to hell with it and undid the catch on the bottom outers, pulling them off one leg at a time, remaining facing her and looking into her eyes. Her expression didn’t change except for a slight lift of one eyebrow like she sensed my change in attitude.
I put a thumb into the top off the inners and pulled them to my knees then stepped out of them with my hands by my sides standing in front of her, looking into her eyes. She looked right back, smiled and said, “Not bad.”
“What about you? How do I know that you’re not recording?”
Her eyes flashed and narrowed. “You were the one who asked for the meeting. Not me. And I could have this whole room wired for sound for that matter.” Her eyes changed, widening . Then, arching her back in the Siteazy she said, “However, if it will make you feel better, and in the interests of fair play.”
She stood up and with her hand released something on the side of her dress. Grasping it, she pulled it aside to reveal that she was naked underneath. A thin half inch strip of dark pubic hair acted like a runway for my eyes landing there and I quickly lifted them to look across the flat stomach, with what looked like a large diamond nestled in her belly button, and up to her generous but perfectly shaped breasts. She was stunning and my cock knew it.
She looked down and I smiled at her. She smiled back.
“I must say that standing naked with Annika Bardsdale was not what I was expecting when I got out of my sleeper this evening,” I said with a smile. She burst out laughing and still naked sat back down in the Siteazy, crossing her legs and waving at the opposite Siteazy with her hand. I scooped my clothes and Devstick up and placed them in the box as she’d requested and then sat in the Siteazy and faced her.
“So, Jonah, what do you have in mind?”
“Is this room really safe for a confidential conversation?”
“Yes. It might look old-fashioned - I like it that way - but it has white noise filters surrounding it. Nothing gets in or out.”
“Good, because what I am going to tell you could cost us our lives if it becomes known to anyone other than us. I need your help, and while it is about the Tag Law, it is also about me. Before I begin, I feel compelled to offer you the chance not to hear what I have to say. Once I have told it, your life will be in danger.”
Annika’s face remained calm and expressionless. She regarded me with those huge eyes but her eyes didn’t move. They remained fixed on mine. She suddenly leant forward, her breasts swinging out a little, and placed her elbows on knees – her face a few cents from mine. She said, “After a build-up like that, do you really think that I could not hear what you have to say?” And she smiled. I couldn’t see her lips as her eyes were too close to mine but I saw the set of fine wrinkles around her eyes crinkle up. She sat back in her seat and her breasts wobbled deliciously on her chest.
I let out a soft sigh. I thought about calling Mariko and asking her permission to fuck Annika, but just as swiftly dismissed that idea. Our first night separated and I call her to ask if it is OK to fuck one of the hottest women on the planet? No, Mariko, I said in my mind. If our roles were reversed I couldn’t say yes. I don’t want to share you with anyone else.
Annika broke into my thoughts of not fucking her.
“Do you want an alky? I find that serious chats always go smoother with a glas
s of wine in your hand.” Saying this she reached over and picked up a bottle of red wine and poured two glasses, handing me mine. Her breasts swung forward again. Puffy pink nipples.
I switched my glance to her face to find her with that same wry grin she had when I was stripping.
“Do you want to have sex?” she asked softly.
“Yes, but I can’t. Or at least if I was going to I would have to call a woman in New Singapore, where it’s midnight now, and I doubt that she’d give me permission. So... as much as I want to, I can’t.” Annika took a big swallow of her wine and, holding it in her closed mouth, ballooned out her cheeks, swirling it around. She turned her head in profile to me and the cheek facing me ballooned in and out rapidly. She swallowed loudly and dripping her finger back in the glass ran it dripping with red wine down her throat between her breasts and around the diamond in her belly button coming to rest on that little landing strip.
“Annika, you’re killing me. Please stop it. I know I am going to regret this decision for the rest of my life but I can’t change it. Please!”
I wasn’t quite begging but my resolve was crumbling fast. She laughed while she was taking a sip of her wine and it went down the wrong way. She coughed and spluttered as the wine she had spat out was sizzling in the fireplace. I reached over and gently patted her back. She held up a hand recovering.
“I’m sorry. I’ll be a good girl. It’s not nice to tease you like that, even if it is fun. And I seem to have at least one supporter.” She nodded at my cock which was poking straight up.
“No, honestly, you’ve got two supporters. Even I think I’m idiot but a promise is a promise.”
She reached over and smiling patted my leg. “I think I would have enjoyed sex with you very much, but I think also that I am going to enjoy the man even more.”
I took her hand in mine and raised it to my lips, kissing it softly, looking it her eyes as I did so and swirling the tip of my tongue ever so slightly on the taut skin of her knuckles.