Helen grasped the bed rail with one hand and rose to her feet. She looked up at Damaris and the red spots on her cheeks didn’t have anything to do with a fever. “I’m so mad at that doctor I could walk home.”
A while later, the three women shared a laugh when Helen climbed into the rear seat of their vehicle wearing hospital slippers and blue scrubs provided by one of the nurses. No one had expected her to leave the hospital so quickly and she didn’t have any street clothes.
Rhona twisted around and looked over the seat as Damaris pulled away from the loading zone. “Helen, I think you should come to Jetmore and stay with us for a few days.”
“Why?” Helen frowned and then tears came to her eyes. “That was a stupid question. Glenn’s dead and someone wants me dead.”
A feeling of empathy framed Rhona’s response. “I’m sorry for your loss. We’ll work on identifying the fake nurse and anyone who is in league with her.”
Damaris glanced over her shoulder. “Laura sent me to check on you and give you the medicine. She’d like to talk to you.”
“Oh, okay.” Helen let out a long sigh and then leaned back against the cushions. “I’ll go with you, but I’m getting tired. I’ll take a short nap.”
Chapter 7 – Wedding Plans
A long run through the tunnels with Keene before dinner had calmed the twitching muscles in Rhona’s legs but it didn’t bring any relief from the incessant demands of her job. The nurse impersonator had driven south and then visited a restaurant in the small town of Buffalo, Oklahoma. They had lost track of her although the stolen car she had used still sat in the restaurant parking lot. Mike Kunkel had called with the news that the IV drip line contained a lethal dose of strong sedatives. They didn’t yet have any clues about who had ordered the assassination attempt.
Alone inside her apartment, Rhona stripped off her sweaty running outfit and dropped it on the floor beside the bathroom door. Moments later, she was in the shower leaning against the wall under a stream of hot water. Thoughts of Keene and their upcoming wedding diverted Rhona’s attention from the shower. Finally, she realized she was shampooing her hair for the fourth time.
She reluctantly shut off the shower and reached for the Abantu-manufactured towel. The material could absorb a huge amount of water before it even felt damp. She finished drying off, brushed her hair, and then headed out to get a change of clothes. The automated apartment housekeeping function had already cleaned and dried her running clothes and they were neatly folded in a stack beside the bathroom door.
Rhona picked up the running clothes and tucked them in a drawer. She looked through the half dozen outfits in the armoire and clucked her tongue. She really needed to do some shopping. She selected a sleek green blouse and comfortable black slacks.
The chime announcing someone was at the door sounded while Rhona was checking her reflection in the mirror. She whirled around and called out, “Aperi amicus.”
The door slid open without a sound. Keene entered with Charles and Judith following a few steps behind him.
“Have a seat,” Rhona called as they headed towards the couch.
Judith often expressed her affection by touching while Rhona expressed it by spending time with people. Judith stopped beside her daughter and touched her on the arm. “That’s a nice-looking blouse.”
“Thank you. I have so few clothes you’ll soon get tired of seeing it.”
“I know what you mean. Can we have someone visit our house and pack more clothes for us?” Judith gestured at her husband. “Charles and I have been talking about selling the place.”
“We can hire a moving company,” Rhona replied. “However, there is hardly anything in my apartment to pack.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Rhona said with a grin. “You used to like shopping for my clothes. Are you willing to buy me another half dozen outfits?”
“That would be fun,” Judith said as she sat on the couch beside Charles. Rhona and Keene sat together on a love seat.
Charles pointed at the love seat. “Is that new?”
“Yep,” Rhona replied with a self-satisfied smile. “I read enough of the apartment instruction manual to learn how to request a new piece of furniture. It’s still bizarre to watch it coalesce out of a dark mist.”
“Can we come in?” Sam’s voice came from the hall through the still open door.
“Sure,” Rhona called while she glanced at the door. As she expected, Trixie stood shoulder to shoulder with Sam. Although he was an inch taller than Trixie, her fluffier hairstyle made her look slightly taller than he did.
Sam waited for Trixie to sit in one armchair before taking the other chair beside her. He plopped down and looked around with a smile. “What’s the topic of conversation tonight?”
“Wedding plans.” Rhona’s face beamed.
“Ah. I’m ready to listen.”
“Since when did you start listening to marriage plans?” Keene demanded with a smile.
“I… Uh…” Sam’s face turned pink. “Oh, darn it. I don’t know much about weddings and I just…”
“Just what?” Keene prompted.
Sam reached out and gathered Trixie’s hand in his. “I just proposed to Trixie and she accepted.”
“Wheee!” Rhona screamed, jumped up from the love seat, and thrust one clenched fist over her head. “It’s about time!”
Sam’s face turned from pink to red. “I don’t know much about wedding stuff. I was married for two years before my wife died in childbirth. My wife and my mother planned the wedding. I just showed up for the event.”
Trixie raised one eyebrow when Rhona looked at her. Finally, the Abantu nodded. “Clayton and I were married in 1906. He … he died in 1947. This marriage will last a little longer.”
“How much longer?” Charles asked.
Rhona dropped back into the love seat and took Keene’s hand. The conversation washed over her for a few moments as she thought about her own wedding plans. She wasn’t too distracted to miss all of the conversations. She filed away the thought that Trixie dodged Charles’ question rather than answering it.
“Have you set a date?” Judith asked.
“No.” Trixie shook her head and held up her hand to reveal an engagement ring. “I’ve had this less than an hour. But, I think a month or two after Rhona’s wedding would be good.”
“Wow,” Judith said with wide eyes. “That’s a beautiful ring.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Trixie held up her hand and admired the ring.
Judith smiled while the others leaned closer to look at the ring. “I assume you’re getting married here in Jetmore,” she commented.
A hint of red showed on Trixie’s cheeks. “We haven’t talked about it yet, but I’d like to hold the wedding on Mars.”
“Really? I like the idea, but why there?” Sam asked. His bright smile held acceptance rather than apprehension.
“No one living on Mars has been to a wedding.”
Judith sat up straight with an astonished look. “What?”
Trixie smiled. “Did Rhona tell you how many male Abantu there are?”
“Well, yes, she did, but … but I didn’t think it through.”
“There are about fifty females for every male. As a consequence, we don’t have the equivalent of marriage.”
“But, you have children. Ivette lives here and Rhona showed me nursery pictures taken on Mars.”
“You’re right.” Trixie squeezed Sam’s hand. “The pairings for the purpose of having children occur under a business-contract type of arrangement. A life-long emotional bonding between a man and a woman is a new concept in our culture.”
Rhona suspected Trixie had several reasons for choosing Mars. An intense desire to know some of them prompted her next question. “So, why Mars?”
The Abantu
played with her long black hair with her free hand. “Those of us living here understand the exclusiveness associated with marriage. Those living on Mars do not.”
“Ah,” Charles exclaimed. “You’re staking an exclusive claim to Sam in front of a thousand single women.”
Trixie giggled. “Caught in the act.”
Rhona thought about her visit to Mars. “I suppose you will hold it in one of the large atriums. Will everyone come?”
“Probably, if for nothing more than the entertainment value. Our people living on Earth are considered a bit … eccentric.”
Rhona ignored the fact most humans would consider marrying an extraterrestrial extreme instead of eccentric. It helped that Trixie looked human. Actually, she looked better than most human women. Rhona turned away from pursuing those thoughts. “I was thinking about a little smaller wedding.”
Her mother laughed so hard she cried. “I just saw you on TV with the president. A lot of people will want to come.”
“Nah.” Rhona shook her head. “That was work, but the wedding is for Keene and me. It’s not a reality show.”
“It’s better than a reality show because I know who ends up with the bride.” Keene shifted and looked Rhona in the face. “How do you define a little smaller?”
Rhona held up her hand with four fingers upthrust. “I think four bridesmaids, four groomsmen, and two flower girls would be about right.”
“Do you have them picked out?”
“Yes, but I haven’t asked anyone yet. Diana Tate will be one of the bridesmaids. I’m also thinking about asking Laura, Nanda, and Trixie.”
“I’ll be glad to do it,” Trixie responded with a huge smile. “Weddings are fun.”
“Sounds great,” Keene added. “Who are the flower girls?”
“Diana’s daughter Lisa will be one of them. At twelve years old, she’s a little older than usual for a flower girl, but I like the idea of including her. I also think I’ll ask Ivette. She looks the same age as Lisa.”
Keene leaned back with an indulgent grin. “Do you also have the men picked out?”
Rhona stabbed a finger in Sam’s direction. “Only Sam.”
“Yeah,” Keene said with a satisfied smile. “He’s been a true friend through thick and thin. I’m thinking about asking Wade Winterfield. I’ve only known him a few weeks but he’s a great guy.”
“Okay, who else?”
“I made several good friends in the academy, but we have mostly drifted apart. I still keep in contact with Craig Anstow. We talked earlier this week and I told him I was engaged to a wonderful woman. He was my best man … before.”
A pleasant feeling washed over Rhona at Keene’s compliment. She snuggled a little closer. “Do you think he would come?”
“I think so,” Keene responded. “He has a strong sense of responsibility, he’s level-headed, and he has a pleasant personality. Maybe we ought to try to recruit him.”
“Sounds good.” Rhona tapped her finger on her lips and thought about what Keene had just said. “Have you checked his index score?”
“Dulcis,” Keene said the word to the open air, knowing Dulcis monitored all conversations in the underground complex. “Do you have a score for Craig Anstow?”
The words hung in the air for a couple of heartbeats and then the AI responded. “His score is 9.63.”
Rhona looked around at Trixie. “Why would you already have his score compiled?”
The Abantu shrugged. “We are checking everyone associated with all of you. It’s a good way to know who we can trust.”
“Okay.” In the past, Rhona would have bristled at thinking about the level of investigation the AI performed. The things she had seen in the last six months: kidnapping, murder, torture, and the assassination attempt she had barely survived, combined to change her mind. She looked at Keene. “That’s three groomsmen.”
“Yeah.” Keene swallowed hard. “I’m having a hard time choosing a fourth man. In case you hadn’t noticed, there are a lot more women around here than men.”
Everyone in the room exchanged glances silently. Judith shrugged and broke the silence. “Is there anyone else from the academy?”
“No one I know well anymore.”
“I have a suggestion,” Trixie said. “Laura’s son Orin is visiting tomorrow. I know he lives on Ceres, but he might be willing to participate.”
“Hmm,” Keene said with a thoughtful look. “That would be different. What does he think about human weddings?”
“I’m not sure,” Trixie responded. “However, I know he supports Laura in her work here. He headed up the analysis team on Ceres dealing with humans.”
Keene nodded. “I’ll ask Laura about it tomorrow. If she is supportive, we can talk to Orin together.”
Rhona leaned aback against Keene. “There are a thousand other details to work through, but they are simply details after we confirm with all of the people. Fortunately, Dulcis is great at keeping track of details.”
“Yes,” Keene responded with a furrow between his eyebrows. “But, did you notice she was slow answering my question about Craig?”
He turned towards Trixie. “Is there a problem with Dulcis?”
Trixie crinkled her nose. “Yes and no.”
Rhona, Keene, and Sam all leaned forward, but Sam got in the first question. “What does that mean?”
“Dulcis is a facility-level AI. She is reaching saturation capacity. Her response time for noncritical items may grow slightly while she keeps everything going.”
“That’s not good,” Rhona interjected. “We’re only safe here because Dulcis is more capable than any human computer.”
“It’s only a short-term problem,” Trixie replied.
Sam raised one eyebrow. “Really? Is there something else you should tell us?”
“I already told you Orin is visiting tomorrow. He’s bringing the manufacturing template for an improved AI and expanded memory.”
Rhona relaxed and let Keene and Sam continue questioning Trixie. Keene led the way. “Improved or replaced?”
Trixie smiled. “It’s nothing like what happens to a computer with a Windows operating system. You won’t have to sit and stare at an upgrade screen for hours.”
“That’s good,” Sam said. “But you didn’t answer Keene’s question.”
“I could give you the precise word in Abantu, but it is more improved than replaced. In brief, Dulcis has a molecular-level hardware structure. We will build eleven more like her and those twelve AI’s will support a quantum-level AI.”
Keene shook his head. “Are you saying Dulcis is really just an auxiliary processor?”
“That’s a good analogy.” Trixie smiled. “In addition, data storage capacity goes up about six orders of magnitude.”
“What does one do with that much computing capacity?” Judith asked.
“It’s designed to run an entire world,” Trixie said.
Charles smiled and spread out his hands. “Who on Earth could use that much computing capacity?”
Trixie shook her head. “Nanda has been bugging Laura to let her do new DNA simulations. She got approval to start after the new hardware comes online. Laura already told her she had to limit her studies to fifty percent of the computing capacity.”
Chapter 8 – BBC Story
The next morning, Laura approached the table where Rhona and Keene were eating breakfast with Rhona’s parents. “Trixie says you have some questions.”
“I do,” Rhona replied. “I’m surprised she remembered, given the hubbub over her engagement.”
Laura set her tray of food on the table and slid into one of the two unoccupied chairs. “What do you want to know?”
“Keene and I were making wedding plans last night and Trixie agreed to be one of my four bridesmaids. Will you be another one?”
&n
bsp; Laura seemed startled and then she smiled. “Of course. I like weddings.”
“Thank you.” Rhona picked up her coffee cup and looked deep into the brown beverage, marshaling her thoughts to continue.
Keene broke the short silence. “Rhona has four ladies picked out, but I have only identified three men so far. Trixie suggested your son Orin might be willing to be a groomsman.”
“Oh.” Laura seemed more startled than earlier. She picked up her spoon and stirred raisins and brown sugar into her oatmeal. Finally, she nodded. “We can talk to him.”
Rhona chuckled. “Do you have any predictions what he will say?”
“He’s 1,400 years old and he thinks for himself. However, he strongly supported my work here. He might just do it. I’ll bring up the subject this afternoon during his visit.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it,” Keene said. He leaned forward with a serious expression. “We lost track of the nurse who tried to kill Helen. Was it because Dulcis is getting overloaded?”
“Possibly, or it might have been clever deception. Trixie told you Orin is bringing a manufacturing template so we can update the AI. We can tap into every digital camera in the world when we are done. We should be able to find her.”
After their first meeting, Rhona had thought Laura was essentially clueless about how human society really operated. Since then, she had seen glimpses of incredible insight and undercurrents of long-term plans in what Laura said and did. She decided to poke a little without accusing Laura of deliberately misleading them. “When did you learn you would be getting an upgrade template?”
Laura took a bite of oatmeal and surveyed Rhona over her spoon while she chewed and swallowed. “Yesterday.”
“Hmm.” Rhona wrinkled her nose slightly. “When did you first ask for a more capable AI?”
Laura’s smile indicated she had expected the question. “About 200 years before we left Polaris.”
Rhona was surprised. That was a lot earlier than she had thought. She tried to hide the surprise as she continued with the question she had already planned to ask. “Yet you allowed Dulcis to reach overload levels. Why?”
Variations on Humanity (WorldWalker Trilogy Book 3) Page 6