Variations on Humanity (WorldWalker Trilogy Book 3)

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Variations on Humanity (WorldWalker Trilogy Book 3) Page 13

by Paul Eslinger


  “No, that’s it.”

  “What was that?” Keene asked when Laura slipped her phone back into her pocket.

  “It’s the backup plan. We’re bringing three cargo shuttles in from Mars to help with distribution of medical products. They will be here soon.”

  Rhona squinted at Laura. “Let me understand this. You want all the Abantu to move here and work out of this facility. Marlee and the others don’t agree.”

  “And you don’t have the authority to force them to move here,” Keene added.

  “So, you decided to nudge them by agreeing that Sam and Trixie could visit them,” Rhona added.

  Keene fed off of Rhona’s question. “Did you run extensive simulations to judge the human responses?”

  Laura’s eyes glowed slightly green and a flush showed at the base of her throat. There were sibilant overtones in her voice. “You’re right. I didn’t plan correctly.” She held up both hands and looked from face to face. “What should I do now?”

  Rhona pointed her right forefinger at Laura. “It depends on what you plan to do. Will you continue to push for consolidation or will you support having different Abantu facilities on Earth?”

  “I don’t claim to understand Abantu politics, but if you were a human the others might work to supplant you as the overall leader,” Keene added.

  After long moments of silence, Laura nodded. “The politics are quite similar.”

  “Then, you have a choice,” Keene responded. “You push ahead vigorously and make your case for consolidation or you apologize and offer support for the Italian contingent.”

  Rhona gathered Keene’s hand in hers. Her voice was intense and passionate. “I’ve never liked the idea of having a single hiding hole. You need at least two facilities, and possibly even three or more. They need to be linked with Star Portals.”

  “You think I was wrong.” Laura’s eyes faded to their normal black as she looked back and forth between Rhona and Keene.

  Rhona raised one eyebrow. “You pay us to provide recommendations. I just gave you mine.”

  “I agree,” Keene said.

  Laura closed her eyes and kneaded her temples. The silence lasted for more than a minute before she lowered her hands. “I’ll do it your way. I still don’t understand the motivation of the human wolves, but I understand they are out there.”

  Rhona stared at Laura for a few moments. Laura’s decision to send the shuttles didn’t fit with the persona of someone who had schemed for centuries to ensure her leadership role. What had changed? Finally, Rhona spoke again. “Is something wrong?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You say you have only lost three Abantu to the human wolves in the last two centuries. This trip doesn’t seem like it had the same level of planning.”

  “Dulcis is slow.”

  Her intuition flared as Rhona shook her head. “Not good enough.”

  Laura turned away and rubbed one eye with the heel of her palm. “I’ve been distracted.”

  Old conversations streamed through Rhona’s mind and one name percolated to the top. “Brian Rodabaugh?”

  “Yeah.”

  Rhona asked, “What’s the problem?”

  Keene turned away and let the women talk.

  “I’m… I’m attracted to him,” Laura muttered. “I think he reciprocates the feelings, but he’s too ethical.”

  “Ah, he refuses to get emotionally involved with his employer?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Did he also refuse the DNA treatments?”

  “He said he would make a decision in a couple of weeks.”

  Rhona cocked her head. “Father met with him a couple of days ago to work on the legal aspects of the drug distribution company. He seems totally on board with helping us.”

  “Oh, he is really enjoying the job. He even mentioned that your parents look a lot younger than when they arrived.”

  “Yeah, Mom doesn’t look a whole lot older than I do these days.” Rhona paused, “but that isn’t the most important feature right now, is it?”

  “Yes and no,” Laura replied. “He’s still sharp mentally, but that will start to fade in a few years. We’ll soon have to look for another lawyer if he doesn’t take the treatments.”

  “And you lose him to old age.”

  “That’s right,” Laura said with a shrug. Her face turned a little pale. “We will have time to work on the other issues if he stays in good health.”

  “What did he say about my parents?”

  “Just that they looked much younger than before.”

  “Did you discuss the rapid healing that goes with the treatments?”

  Laura spread out her hands. “I mentioned it. He knows about your injuries and about Helen Pratt.”

  Rhona tapped her side with her fingers. “I don’t even have a scar to show him.”

  “Are you trying to be a matchmaker?” Laura asked.

  “Sort of,” Rhona admitted. “We need an experienced lawyer and I’d rather not have to train a new one every couple of decades.”

  “My thought, too.”

  “So,” Rhona ran her fingers through her long curly hair and then twisted a lock around her finger. “What does it take to keep you from being distracted?”

  “I’m back in the saddle,” Laura responded.

  “I hope so,” Rhona replied. “Keene and I are still exploring our relationship. I’m a novice at the emotional bonding thing. I can’t give you any useful advice.”

  Laura’s eyes narrowed. “I wasn’t asking for advice.”

  Even though Laura’s voice sounded completely normal, Rhona caught a glimpse of hidden frustration on her face. Rhona sighed. “I have a couple of suggestions that don’t rise to the level of advice. First, talk to my mother. She might have some insight. Second, talk to Trixie. She cracked the citadel of Sam’s heart and no human woman managed to do that after the wife of his youth died in childbirth.”

  “Humph.” Laura stroked her cheek with her fingertips. Finally, she nodded. “I’ll do that.”

  “Good. Let’s talk plans for the Abantu in Europe. What kind of support can you offer that would help you politically?”

  Chapter 16 – Italian Feint

  The glow of several computer monitors gave Sam’s face a strange tint while he looked at Marlee. He could see Trixie studying displays in the background. They were in the control center in the hill beside Marlee’s villa, and even though the AI was less capable than Dulcis, it had more analysis capabilities than any human installation. He said, “The social media dialog about your missing contact has been quite intense.”

  Marlee looked away from her display. “It has,” she agreed. “But it is already dying down.”

  Trixie stepped closer. “I expected more.”

  “Are you disappointed?” Marlee asked with a slight smile.

  “There should be at least some broadcast media response.” Trixie’s long black hair cascaded over her shoulders when she shook her head. Abantu hair grew nearly three times faster than human hair and regular trimming was required to maintain a short hairstyle.

  Sam fingered his short beard. It was all black now, instead of the grey from a few weeks earlier. “That’s why I brought this up. Representatives of the American media converged on Rhona’s dental clinic for a trivial reason. It would be much more of a coup for someone to carry the first story about an Abantu settlement in Italy.”

  “People already know several Abantu live in Europe,” Trixie said.

  “Yes and no,” Sam said and leaned back in his chair so far it almost tipped over. “President Arthur Leek and a few of his advisors know, but most of them don’t talk in public.”

  Trixie looked at Marlee. “What do you think?”

  “I think Sam’s right.” Marlee stood and pushed back he
r dark brown hair. “I’m also hungry. Let’s get something to eat.”

  Sam raised one eyebrow. “I didn’t see much food in the kitchen this morning.”

  “None of us like to cook.” Marlee gestured towards the underground garage. “We’ll go out.”

  “The cafeteria in the Jetmore facility is really nice,” Sam remarked as he followed the women towards the garage.

  “Yeah,” Marlee acknowledged with a nasal tone.

  Sam gathered Trixie’s hand into his and chuckled. “I’m just an ignorant human. Can you explain that comment?”

  Marlee didn’t look at her visitors. “We made that facility on Ceres. Most of us worked on it for much of the trip from Polaris.”

  “But you don’t have access to it now.”

  “Not unless we move to Jetmore.” Marlee waved her hands at the garage when they exited from the tunnel. “Some of us settled in Europe when we arrived and we prefer staying here.”

  Sam shut his mouth while they walked across the garage to the BMW Marlee used. He waited for Marlee to unlock it and then opened a rear door for Trixie. He slid in on the padded seat after she was in the vehicle and pulled the armored door shut. The local Abantu had a reasonable security office, but their physical security had as many holes as a piece of Swiss cheese.

  He waited until the security gate closed behind them before bringing up a new topic. “Wilda and a couple of the others have built road capable pickups.”

  “Pilentum,” Marlee retorted.

  “What’s that?”

  “That’s our word for those vehicles. I worked on the design team.”

  Sam glanced at Trixie and noticed one slightly elevated eyebrow. He smiled and turned his attention back to Marlee. “We recently took one of them to Africa. We could bring one or more of them here. They would be safer than this vehicle.”

  “They are safer.”

  Marlee’s words affirmed Sam’s statement, but her tone was unusual. Sam glanced at Trixie with a slight shrug that said, “What did I just step in?”

  Trixie smiled and changed the subject. “Which restaurant are we going to?”

  “Ristorante Rose & Sapori. It’s warm enough I reserved a table for six on the patio. It has a wonderful view of the lake.”

  “Who else is coming?” Trixie asked.

  “Deonna, Olinda, and Kittie have an office a few blocks from the restaurant. They will join us.”

  The drive only took a few minutes and the number of free parking spaces dwindled as they approached the lake shore. Sam kept watching for people tailing them, but traffic was thick enough it was an impossible task. He was surprised when Marlee pulled into a reserved parking space at a small apartment building two blocks from the restaurant. Curiosity forced him to ask a question. “Won’t the owners be upset with you parking here?”

  “No,” Marlee said and then opened the driver’s door. She smiled over the top of the vehicle when Sam emerged from the other side. “I own the apartment building and everything else on the four blocks behind you.”

  Sam felt like a dunce. That was a common feeling these days even though Trixie was very helpful and he spent many hours studying with Dulcis. “Oh,” he said and then snapped his mouth shut.

  The food was excellent, the conversation was light-hearted, and the wind remained calm. An hour later, they headed back towards the car. Deonna, Olinda, and Kittie headed the other direction to their office building.

  “I need to spend a minute talking to the manager,” Marlee said when they reached the car. She gestured at the small sign indicating the office. “Do you want to come in? You can stay out here if you like.”

  “We’ll stay out here,” Sam said after waiting for Trixie to respond. She simply shrugged.

  Sam watched Marlee disappear into the office and then looked around. He could see two couples walking along the street nearly a block away. The rest of the sidewalks were deserted and they hadn’t seen a drone since they first arrived. He gestured across the small parking lot. “Let’s go look at the lake.”

  “Sure,” Trixie replied as they started moving. “Jetmore is really dry.”

  “I’ve always lived in dry areas,” Sam replied.

  “Me too,” Trixie said when they moved across a narrow footpath and stopped beside a chest-high wrought-iron fence. “Polaris is ninety-seven percent land and there aren’t any oceans. Half of the planet was desert. Earth is very different. Even Jetmore is wetter than where I lived.”

  Sam rested his hands on the fence and looked out over the lake. It was about 50 km in length and covered 370 square km. “Were you better adapted to dry climates before you went through the DNA changes?”

  Trixie nodded. “Polaris was about 5 °F warmer than Earth, but we were adapted to the temperature and low humidity. The idea of sweating was a new concept.”

  “Did it take a lot of work to design the DNA changes for sweating?”

  “Not that much,” Trixie replied. “Nanda…”

  Sam turned to look at Trixie and saw a man striding quickly in their direction on the footpath. Something in his movements caused Sam to grab Trixie’s arm and interrupt the interesting conversation. “Do you see that man walking this direction?” he asked.

  She pivoted slightly. “Yes. So?”

  “He’s on a mission, and it’s more than just going somewhere.” A shiver of premonition ran down Sam’s back. He spun and looked the other way along the path. Another man was walking briskly in their direction, but he was about a block further away.

  Sam tugged on Trixie’s arm. His voice was a couple of tones higher than usual. “Let’s go back to the car.”

  They hurried across the parking lot side by side. Sam glanced back and saw the first man come into sight around the building. Sam grabbed the car door handle and tugged, but the door didn’t open. “It’s locked,” he snarled.

  “Inside.” Trixie tugged on Sam’s arm and turned towards the office door.

  “Good idea,” Sam said. He moved quickly towards the door but switched sides so he was between Trixie and the oncoming man. Trixie pulled on the door and it started to open. Sam looked back and saw the oncoming man pull a knife and lean forward into a sprint.

  Time seemed to slow as Sam spun around and headed towards the attacker in order to give Trixie time to get inside. He crouched with his arms out, wishing he had brought a weapon. Time ran out.

  The attacker feinted and then lunged with the knife moving in a vicious slash.

  Sam jumped back. He avoided the knife by a narrow margin, slipped and barely kept his balance.

  The attacker rebounded off a car and lunged again. Sam dropped to the ground, put his hands down and kicked around in a pommel horse move. His foot connected with the side of the attacker’s knee with a solid crack.

  The man screamed, twisted, and threw his knife at Sam with a flick of his wrist.

  Pain shot through Sam’s system when the knife hit him in the chest. Reflexively, he reached for the knife. To his surprise, the point of the knife was stuck in a rib, rather than in the soft flesh.

  He grabbed the handle and pulled. It was stuck. Bone cracked as he yanked harder. Pain crashed through his senses. He ignored the pain and pulled even harder, freeing the knife. He spun around with it clenched in his fist so tightly his knuckles were bone white.

  The attacker lay slack on the pavement, bleeding from a head wound. The shape of the hood ornament of the BMW formed an indent in his forehead. Blood ran from his nose, dribbled from his mouth, and pooled on the ground.

  The distant sound of an Italian siren nearly masked the sound of shoes scuffing on the pavement. Sam spun and crouched, holding the knife in a defensive position.

  His instinctive move caused the second attacker to miss. Sunlight glinted from another knife blade as the man sprang again.

  Sam feinted and jumped aside,
following through with a vigorous swing. His knife opened a slash on the man’s arm from wrist to elbow. The attacker dropped his knife, grabbed his arm with his other hand, and sprinted towards the footpath.

  After a couple of steps of pursuit, Sam pulled up and let the man escape. He switched the knife to his left hand and put his right hand on the cut on his chest. It hurt. He gritted his teeth and put pressure on it, hoping to slow the flow of blood already drenching most of the front of his shirt.

  The siren was getting close and Sam didn’t want to face police with a bloody knife in his hand. He dropped it and moved back one step. He glanced down, making sure he knew where the knife was.

  He looked back up when Trixie opened the office door and darted in his direction. She sped up when she saw the blood and slid to a stop at his side. She seemed dazed while she reached out towards him. “How badly are you hurt?”

  “A flesh wound,” Sam cackled. “I always thought that was a lame line in the movies.”

  A police car swung into the parking lot and the siren started to fade. Sam glanced at it and then at Trixie. “Did you call the police?”

  Trixie shook her head. “No.”

  Sam activated his communicator. “Keene? We need help.”

  Keene answered immediately. “What do you need?”

  Amazed by the quick response, Sam spoke tersely. “Knife attack. We’ll need translation services.”

  Two policemen erupted from the car and rushed towards Sam and Trixie with pistols in their hands. The closest one spoke to Sam in a shrill tone. “What happened here?” His eyes were riveted on the blood on Sam’s chest.

  Sam heard the translation from Italian to English in his earpiece. Good, Keene had already patched Dulcis into the action. Sam pointed down with his left hand. “Two men attacked us.”

  The policemen’s face turned white when he looked down. He switched to English. “Where did the second one go?”

  “He ran that way.” Trixie turned and pointed at the path behind the building.

  By this time, Marlee had emerged from the building. She looked at Sam while one of the policemen darted over to check the path. “You need medical help.”

 

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