Athena gave me a quick, flat glance, then said, “Hello, Dr. Morely.”
He managed, “Ah… uhm… Hello, ah… Athena, is it?”
She nodded. “That’s right.”
Morely got himself moving and went to shake her hand. I left them to discuss whatever and checked email and messages. After filling a couple of ebook orders and answering a brief message from an archaeologist friend in Iowa, I checked the time.
Almost exactly fifteen minutes since I’d installed the sim. A probe showed the sim alone in the room. I let it vanish and two machines began complaining loudly as I also let the probe vanish.
Glancing back, I saw Athena and Morely chatting and said, “Hey, Doc. How’s your back? Still hurt?”
He turned slightly to look at me and winced hard, then hissed, “Thanks a lot for reminding me. Now it hurts like hell.”
“Well, we’re out over the Atlantic now, so Athena might be able to help you with that.”
Moving carefully, he turned back around and looked at her as if to ask if it were true. Athena nodded and smiled. I left him to her attentions and turned back to my screen.
About halfway to Guyana, Linda pinged me. I sent back our ‘not alone‘ pings before I put up a blank screen to answer.
“Hi, there! I’ve been kind of hoping you’d call, ma’am.”
“So I’ve been given to understand. How’s your evening going?”
“Okay, I guess. My date wasn’t feeling well, so I found something else to do. Ended up taking a ride.”
Linda took a breath and said, “I actually called to tell you there’s been a family emergency, so I have to cancel our visit. We need to keep ourselves available for travel.”
With a sigh, I replied, “Well, damn. Women are turning me down left and right tonight.”
I heard a muffled chuckle, then Linda said, “Then speaking for all womankind, our apologies, of course.”
“You know what apologies are worth, ma’am. I guess I’ll find some other way to fill the time.”
Linda chuckled, “I’m sure you will. I have faith in you. Well, that’s it. Sorry again about the cancellation. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight. Thanks for calling.”
She dropped her link and I sipped coffee as I sat back. She’d never mentioned my name during the call. ‘Cancel our visit‘ meant ‘don’t come here‘. She knew about Lane’s condition and very likely what had happened in Dallas, as well. I linked to my core and deleted the pad-call record at both ends on general principles.
Taking the envelope from my back pocket, I put it in my backpack. The AIs had only needed its technical and temporary physical existence to legitimize their efforts on and above US soil, and their concerns had been met.
Had they given any consideration to the likely aftermath? To the strong possibility that the folder copy might simply disappear if some politician decided to start another round of shit?
Probably not. However many examples of duplicity and other venalities might exist, the AIs had a tendency to expect a higher level of honesty and honor than most people could or would meet.
And I had the very doctor who’d signed it, though without that folder copy he could only testify that he had, indeed, released Lane for transport. They’d likely suggest the backup had been made after the fact. Shrug. Any bases uncovered? Probably, but if they hadn’t been enough to stop Athena, they’d probably be surmountable.
That just left me. The form didn’t cover my actions. Or did it? One could say I simply provided the transport the doc had authorized. They’d buy that if they wanted to soft-pedal the whole mess and maybe see it all go away before the media got hold of it. Whatever. Screw it for now. I brought up my latest book-in-progress, took a sip of coffee, and started editing the last two chapters.
Chapter Twenty-five
Morely came up front and took a seat, watched me work for a time, and then said, “Thanks.”
Glancing at him, I asked, “For..?”
He snorted a chuckle and, “What do you mean, ‘for’? You got me on at the Guyana clinic.”
“The hell I did. You could have sent your CV and a job query. They’re always looking for doctors.”
He sat eyeing me for a moment, then snarked, “Well, that isn’t exactly common knowledge, now, is it?”
Grinning, I replied, “Probably not where you used to work.”
“Then I have every reason to thank you, don’t I?”
“Yeah, okay. Sure. But I just needed a signature and you looked like the best candidate at the time. When you talked about a new life, I just happened to know where you could find one.”
Turning to face forward and sipping from his mug, he said, “Well, thanks anyway. I’m finally out of there, on my way to a new job and a new life, and I might even be able to write a book about it.”
Reaching the end of chapter twenty-four, I chuckled, “Sounds like a plan, doc.”
After a pause, he said, “You never told me your name.”
“Sure didn’t. Don’t plan to, either.”
“Why not?”
“What you don’t know, you can’t tell.”
He paused again, then asked, “What are you doing there?”
Tapping the screen off, I answered, “Reading over some stuff, but I finished it. Got a change of clothes with you?”
Glancing at his briefcase, he nodded. “Yes.”
“Good. There are shops on the lower level at the clinic for anything you don’t have. If your credit cards don’t work…”
He yelped, “What?!”
Holding up a hand, I said, “Don’t panic. When you come up missing, someone might think to freeze them. If they don’t work, you can get a draw against salary. In fact, the first thing you’ll want to do is open an account with the clinic credit union and transfer your Stateside funds. Tonight. Tomorrow you can talk to their legal department about your house and car and…”
He shook his head. “I’m renting the house and leasing the car. I have a few stocks, but I can handle those from anywhere.”
“What about the alimony?”
“She’s always been reasonable so far.”
“A little government pressure could change that. Cover your financial ass on general principles.”
He shrugged. “Not much to cover.”
“Easy job, then.”
Visibly stopping to think, Morely said, “Wait. How’d you know about my alimony?”
Putting up another screen, I showed him a credit agency info page and tapped the screen as I said, “With this.”
As expected, he thought I meant the page and snorted, “Don’t put too much faith in credit agencies. It took me almost three years to correct them about a stolen credit card.”
Distant lights appeared to change position and I said, “We’re descending. That big light among all the little ones is the clinic.”
Milla pinged me and I used the screen to answer, “Yes, ma’am. You got me.”
“Sir, you won’t be landing on the roof, so please allow us to control your flitter.”
“Sure, Milla. Take over.”
“Thank you.”
She dropped the link. Nothing about our course seemed to change until we were within a mile or so of the building. That’s when it became evident we were heading for the side of the building, not the roof. Coming in kinda fast, too. Hm. Better warn the doc.
“Hey, Morely, it’s going to look as if we’re going to hit the building, but that’s not going to happen, okay?”
He glanced at me with, “Huh?” then turned back and saw the side of the building looming ahead. His face filled with terror and he sucked in a deep breath. I quickly fed him a fat dose of theta waves and he sighed out that deep breath as we passed through the building’s ‘hull’ field.
The flitter stopped in a bay about twice its size and Lane was immediately moved toward the wall on our left. He and the AI ladies passed through the wall, revealing it to be another field. Kewl.
Even the h
eavy theta waves hadn’t completely dealt with Morely’s terror of crashing. He sat staring around and breathing hard, obviously coming down from a massive adrenalin rush.
I asked, “Coulda used a little more warning, huh?”
He fixed his stark, staring gaze on me for a moment, then closed his eyes and rubbed his face.
“I’ll… I’ll be all right in a minute. All this on top of too little sleep and too much coffee… I just need some time to get it together.”
When I asked Tea for a bathroom field, Morely looked at me and asked, “A what?”
Pointing beyond him, I said, “That. Go check it out.”
After a long look at it, he turned back around, then pointed beyond me and said, “I’d rather check her out.”
A tall, lightly tanned young blonde woman wearing unusually sharp-looking hospital scrubs had come through a door field ahead of the flitter. Stepping forward with what looked like a small pizza box, she stopped a foot or so from the flitter’s deck. There seemed to be something odd or unique about her, but it wasn’t readily obvious.
“Hello,” she said with a British accent, “My name is Disa. I’ve been assigned to help Dr. Morely acclimate to our facility.”
I quickly said, “We aren’t using my name tonight, ma’am.”
She blinked. “Excuse me?”
“We aren’t using my name tonight. The doc doesn’t know it and he doesn’t need to. If you need to, step away and take a minute to quietly verify the matter with Milla.”
After a moment of studying me, Disa did just that.
Faking a slight cough, Morely covered his grin and whispered, “Did she just say her name was ‘Diesel’?”
I growled softly, “No, she said ‘Disa’. Behave, doc.”
His grin vanished as he realized I wasn’t kidding.
She smiled and said, “Thank you, but I heard his question. Dr. Morely, he’s correct. My name is Disa. That’s ‘D-i-s-a’. If you would both come with me, I’ll show you to your rooms.”
I said, “Ma’am, he needs to do some banking first. Certain people might pretend he’s been kidnapped and freeze his assets.”
She nodded. “Of course. I can perform an account transfer immediately as a way to demonstrate his datapad.”
Morely seemed startled. “You can do it?”
Smiling, she replied, “I do many things here, Dr. Morely.”
Her name rang a small, vague bell somewhere in my mind. The only immediate definition that popped up was for an acronym — Defense Information Systems Agency — but that didn’t seem the likeliest answer.
Mythology? No. Well, not quite. History? Of a sort? The name rattled around in my head as she presented him the box and touched the top to make it recede to the edges. In what was now a tray were a datapad and a PFM, and I suddenly realized what was unique about her. Disa wasn’t wearing a PFM. She had no field presence at all.
Disa began explaining how to operate the pad as she helped him open a clinic account. She then asked for certain info and used it to verify details of his Stateside accounts before performing transfers that somehow became immediately effective.
I sipped coffee and watched her. Not an AI, definitely human. Twenty-five, about? Kind of cute, but a sharp, almost stony gaze when she occasionally glanced up at me. Inherent dislike? No. I was still wearing my rabble rouser suit. It wouldn’t match the pic in my ID info, but her pad had verified me anyway. Heh.
She was saying something about leaving the building. “…not wise without your PFM…” and the word ‘wise‘ triggered my memory about her name. I grinned at her.
Noticing my pleased expression, she looked up at me questioningly and asked, “You have a comment, sir?”
“Yup. I finally placed your name. Disa was a very wise queen of Sweden. Nobody knows exactly when. I doubt if they even know if she was real or not, but I’d like to think so.”
Turning to Morely, I said, “If she’s anything like that Disa — and she seems to be so far — you couldn’t be in better hands. I’m going to shove off now, Doc. See you later.”
To Disa, I said, “Very nice meeting you, Disa.”
As I turned to step back aboard the flitter, Disa said, “Wait, please. Milla suggested you speak with our legal department before you return to the US. She said you might have difficulties there.”
“She’s right, but an AI friend has a legal team there.”
Stepping to the edge of the deck, Disa said, “If you mean Stephanie, she also heads our legal team. I’ve researched Mr. Lane’s situation as well as his medical condition, sir. There’s a possibility you would be arrested if you returned to the US at this time.”
I considered matters. What the hell; it was late, I was tired, and I had a room if I wanted it. Why not? But not as the rabble rouser.
“Disa, thanks, but I need to clear this bay for a flitter that’ll be arriving very shortly. I think you’ll recognize the pilot.”
When the doc glanced at her, I thumbed at myself. She gave me a little nod, so I said, “Later,” then had Galatea back out of the bay and hover above the entrance. A full minute passed, then I canceled my rabble rouser suit and had Tea nose back into the bay.
Disa and Morely had moved away from the landing spot to stand by the bay’s main door. As Tea settled to the deck, Disa motioned the doc to stay put and approached.
With a small smile, she reintroduced herself. The doc didn’t stay by the door, of course. He edged forward as I greeted her.
“Nice to meet you, Disa. Call me Ed, please. I see Morely’s here, which means Steve Lane also got here.”
Still smiling, she replied, “Yes, he did.”
Morely asked, “You know me? How?”
Calling up a screen, I showed him his picture and said, “You’re this guy, so your name’s Morely.”
“Ah… yes. I am. And it is.”
Sending a tendril to grab my backpack, I let the flitter vanish and said, “Great, then I must be in the right place. I think I’d like to find some food, ma’am.”
As I hitched the pack onto my shoulder, Morely stared at me as if seeing an alien creature.
Apparently unruffled, Disa said, “No problem, sir. Our cafeteria is always open.”
Morely’s stark gaze switched to her. He rather sharply asked, “Didn’t you see what he just did?!”
“Yes,” said Disa, “He used a PFM field.”
“A what?!”
I said, “That silver thing in the box you’re holding is a PFM, Doc. If you practice a little, maybe you’ll be able to do that, too.”
Disa’s left eyebrow arched, but she said nothing. Morely looked in the box and picked up the PFM, then studied it.
I said, “Just put it on your arm and say, ‘PFM attach’. You get it off by saying, ‘PFM detach’.” Looking at Disa, I asked, “Didn’t you tell him that already?”
She chuckled, “Yes, I did, but he seemed rather hesitant.”
“Ah. Well, then… Doc, those things will stop small arms fire, germs, and radiation. They’ll also let you call for help when you get lost in this place, so quit screwing around, stick that one on your arm, and let’s get going.”
With some trepidation, Morely tried it, then immediately tried detaching it. After the usual amount of marveling at it, he put it back on as Disa ran through a quick description of its basic properties and abilities. Mention of its contraceptive ability made him balk and eye the PFM warily.
I suggested we discuss anything else about them over dinner and gestured for Disa to lead the way. She took the hint with a nod and turned to head for the door. I followed her and Morely trotted to catch up and fall in on Disa’s left.
A few steps later, he asked me, “You said your name was Ed?”
Nodding, I said, “Yup. Still is, as far as I know.”
Glancing at my bare forearms, he asked, “Where’s your PFM?”
“Where people can’t see it. They draw way too much attention back in the States.”
�
�So I don’t have to stick it on my arm?”
“Stick it anywhere you want. Works the same.”
He held his arm out to look at his PFM and said, “These things were a great idea. I’ll bet the Amaran who invented them is rich.”
Disa’s eyes flared a bit and she glanced up at me. Was she just silently commenting on the doc’s first thought about PFMs? I grinned, shook my head slightly, and said nothing.
About two doors down from where we’d delivered Lane, we stepped into a shuttle elevator much like the one I’d seen years ago aboard the big ship. There was a map of the building on the wall. Disa touched a spot and the shuttle moved sideways for some moments.
When the door opened, we’d arrived at a cafeteria. I took a small steak and a baked potato, then moved on to find some greens. Disa stayed with Morely and they joined me at a table some minutes later.
He’d opted for a regular dinner, but she had only a small salad and a drink. Morely rattled on about how excited he was to be there and Disa mostly kept quiet unless asked a question. She seemed to spend a lot of time looking in my direction.
I’d nearly finished my dinner when Morely asked, “Ed, is there something wrong? You haven’t said much since we left the bay.”
I shrugged. “Not much to say. I’m ready to turn in for the night and let Disa go back to herding you around.”
Disa grinned and chuckled, “Herding?”
“Can’t let him run loose, can you?”
“Well, no. Of course not. But don’t concern yourself. Escorting guests is one of my duties.”
Morely asked, “What else do you do?”
“Many things, doctor. My job is guest accommodation.”
Glancing at me, Morely made a little ‘Oh, Ho!‘ sort of face. Hm. Maybe he had a somewhat extended concept of her job. I hoped not. Or rather, if he did, I hoped he kept it to himself.
Looking at Disa, I said, “You have my permission to slap the snot out of him if necessary. In the meantime, I’d like to find my room and get flat soon. It’s been a long day.”
3rd World Products, Book 17 Page 29