The Alpha Choice

by M. D. Hall

  As Emily scrolled down the screen, the reason behind her new name became clear. ‘Do you think you can carry that off?’ he asked, incredulously.

  ‘I don’t see why not, there’s a lot more on here, and I’ve committed it to memory.’

  ‘But,’ he protested, ‘they’ll make checks.’

  ‘I’ve a feeling our friends have that covered.’

  ‘I wish I shared your confidence.’

  ‘What’s your problem?’ she asked. ‘They got us here, didn’t they? I don’t think they’ll be stumped by a bit of computer hacking. Anyway, we’ll find out soon enough, if the id’s don’t get us on the flight.’

  ‘Okay,’ was his only reply, and with that, an envelope instantly appeared next to the monitor. Instinctively he looked around, no one was there. ‘Not bad,’ said Emily.

  He carefully opened the envelope, removed the contents and was not in the least surprised to find perfect replicas of real passports and driving licences, in their assumed names, as well as credit cards and a sizeable amount of cash, not forgetting their tickets - return, to avoid suspicion. Emily prodded him in the shoulder and looked beyond him, to the bed.

  What greeted him, when he turned, were two flight bags that certainly were not there when he got off the bed. They walked over, but before he had a chance to pick up a bag, Emily beat him to it. Unzipping both bags, she looked inside one of them and sighing, dumped the contents in front of him. She then carefully removed the contents of the second bag. From what he could see it was a complete change of clothes. ‘They’re just new versions of what you’re wearing!’ he said.

  ‘So, what if they’re not big on imagination,’ she held up the T shirt and looked at it with unfeigned enthusiasm. ‘I’d almost forgotten what the pattern was.’ She rummaged through the rest of the contents, finding toiletries and new baseball boots then, just as carefully, replaced the items in the bag.

  As he became aware of an emerging pattern, Jon had no problem resisting the temptation to follow suit. The clothes amounted to black chinos, a light blue shirt and a navy blue linen jacket, rounded off with dark blue socks and black casual lace-ups, all brand new, but identical copies of clothes he had at home. He told Emily who just laughed. ‘I’d have said they were just having some fun at our expense, but you’ve seen them, I think they’ve forgotten what fun is.’

  Jon looked in the small hotel refrigerator. ‘There’s food in here, and I don’t think it’s been put there by the hotel management.’

  ‘Why’s that?’ asked Emily.

  ‘Because there aren’t any tiny bottles of spirit, or cans of beer!’ he replied.

  As soon as they had finished eating, Emily said. ‘I’d better cover our tracks. We don’t want anyone digging around in that computer after we've gone. You can go into the bathroom and get changed, I’ll change in here, and tell you when you can come back in.’

  ‘Will you be able to erase what you’ve done?’ asked Jon.

  ‘Not completely, but enough to confuse any nosey parkers, or police.’ She stood up and walked towards the computer, which promptly vanished. Emily looked up at the ceiling. ‘Pretty neat,’ she said in genuine surprise, followed by, ‘I’d like some noise cancelling phones for my mp3 player,’ nothing happened. ‘Oh well, nothing ventured…’ She turned back to Jon. ‘What did you think of that, cool or what?’

  ‘I think,’ he replied, ‘that this signals the last help we can expect. We’re on our own now.’

  ‘Then the sooner we’re on our way, the better.’

  Twenty minutes later, the two mismatched companions had checked out. With no need for luggage - they left the bags containing their old clothes in lockers at the hotel spa - they made their way across the underground mezzanine connecting the hotel to the anti-grav port. Despite the ports being bought out by TeCorp, the hotels and other support facilities were owned and run by independent companies. This had been a decision of Hugo Black, who believed that to monopolise was to alienate. He took the view - and in this his Te’an patrons acquiesced - that it was unnecessary to be all-powerful, to be powerful enough was sufficient.

  They walked into the Anti-Gravity Ship Port, to use its full name, people were already using the acronym, AGP, which was to be expected, as they already called the craft AGs. Attempts had been made to, more properly, insert the letter S, but without success, AGSP simply defeated the object of the abbreviation.

  Jon showed their prepaid tickets, and they were on their way to the boarding lounge.

  In the short time since the ascension of TeCorp to the foremost economic and industrial power on the planet, a number of changes, some of them subtle, had taken place around the world. Without any real fuss, new AGPs had been built all over the world to facilitate the new means of transport. The advantage, in terms of space was clear, there was no need for runways. As for the ships, they did not use fossil fuels, and the energy waves emanating from the drives presented no possible danger to plants, or animals. Within weeks of their introduction, they were adopted as the preferred method of air transportation; within months, in most countries, only was substituted for preferred. The speed of assimilation was phenomenal.

  This port was a prime example. In less than three days a facility was built, consigning discomfort, queuing and delays to history. No one wanted a return to the ‘bad old days.’ Of course, even well oiled machines could demonstrate glitches, resulting in the occasional ‘historic flight’, as experienced by Nathalie. But such occurrences were exceedingly rare, and never a result of technical failures, even TeCorp had administrative hiccups!

  Jon had never seen an anti-grav ship up close. Despite being separated by plate glass, it was remarkable. The skin, which he had thought was just silver, was actually a lustrous, shimmering blue-silver, as if there was a layer of oil across its surface. When the Sun’s rays were momentarily obstructed by a passing cloud, the ship brightened, so maintaining its appearance. He had no idea why this happened, but the visual effect while subtle, was stunning, and the overall impression enhanced by the craft floating, motionless above the ground.

  ‘Wow!’ Turning towards the sound, he saw Emily, her eyes wide with wonder. ‘Hard to believe monsters could make something like that!’

  ‘I'm not sure you should be saying that around here,’ he said softly, while at the same time, moving them away from curious eyes, and ears. The other passengers were a mishmash, some dressed in business suits, others clearly sightseers, there were even some schoolchildren. That was what made the scene so odd, for as check-in was taking place individually, at passengers’ seats, he could see nothing more cumbersome than briefcases and flight bags. Most of these people would be back home by early evening.

  The two of them were the only ones standing. A softly spoken, female voice, using their new names of James and Rachel, asked them to take a seat so that the boarding process could be completed. The seats had been arrayed to look out at the waiting craft, and were set in amphitheatre semi-circular style, the rows sufficiently distant from each other to allow easy access.

  As he sat down, he looked along the row of seats, and saw a latecomer settle himself only three seats away. Watching, in mute fascination, he saw the man’s bag hover momentarily above the table to the right of his seat, before disappearing. Emily turned to him. ‘Where d’you think the bag went?’ she asked in a loud whisper. ‘Teleported?

  ‘Must have,’ he replied.

  ‘Now it all makes sense, we’re selling our souls for a speedy check-in service!’ He gave her a warning look, which spoke volumes. For all they knew, every conversation in the lounge was being monitored.

  She took the hint.

  The disembodied voice suggested he activate the stress relieving features of his seat, simply by sitting back. Complying, he immediately noticed how the seat adjusted itself to his body, then firmed up support in areas around his shoulders, lower back and right thigh. An almost imperceptible pulsing in those areas, instantly provided a feeling of relaxation. The
pain in his thigh subsided to a dull ache, then faded away completely. He was unaware of any pre-existing problem with either his lower back or shoulders, but the seat appeared to have discerned his physiology, and determined where he needed manipulation, most impressive! he thought.

  The voice again. ‘You will soon be teleported to your seat. If you have changed your mind, and do not wish to board, please speak now.’ There was a short pause, during which he began to panic; other than the Custodians moving him around, he had no experience of teleportation. Nathalie had said there was nothing to it, and she should know, but it still filled him with trepidation. Not that it made any difference, there was no way back. The voice brought the message to an end. ‘Enjoy your flight, James,’ no doubt Emily’s seat would be addressing her separately.

  Without any sensation of movement, he found himself sitting in an identical seat, but not in an identical place. He took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled. It was his first time inside an anti-grav ship; there were no windows and, just like all the aircraft he had travelled in, the walls merged into the roof, only without the distraction of overhead lockers. The unbroken curve was a relaxing shade of sky blue while the floor matched the shade of the grass, outside. It had the appearance of being hard, but was actually soft and yielding underfoot. Pressing his foot down, the sensation was like being on a soft, luxurious deep pile carpet, yet when he moved his foot, no indentations remained.

  The individual seats were the colour of mahogany and formed rows four abreast, two either side of a walkway easily wide enough to accommodate three people, side by side. To the left or right of each seat, depending on whether the passenger was port side or starboard, was a cabinet.

  Jon’s seat did not form itself to his body, as its predecessor in the lounge had done, there was no need, the settings were already identical. The same voice addressed him again: ‘Hello James, welcome on board. I see that you are new to anti-gravity flight, I can tell you that it is quite unlike anything you have experienced before. Throughout our short journey, I will be on hand to assist, should you require it, and with your permission I shall now explain some matters that may improve your comfort, and well-being.

  ‘Waving your hand over the blue square set into the cabinet will call up an interactive image which, by default, provides a pilot's eye view of your journey, but in addition, the means to obtain information and services while on board. For example, touching the round, yellow button on the projected image in front of you, will produce a choice of food and drink, and activate a table, emerging from the cabinet. When you touch the green triangular button, the unused food…’

  The voice continued for another minute with simple instructions, ending with, ‘You can, by simply speaking the request, seek medical assistance although, be assured, I will be monitoring your vital functions and, in the unlikely event it proves necessary, activate the medical response unit. Any information you might require concerning your destination can be accessed by the spoken command: ‘Destination.’ Finally, there are eight toilets at the back of the craft…’ Thank goodness, he thought, as it explained the final protocols, the cabinet doesn’t deal with that!

  The impressiveness of it all worried him. Going to this much trouble for a commercial transit, how far would they go to influence the decision about to affect all their lives? The President can’t help but be swept away by a technology capable of producing this, and who knows what else.

  He caught Emily looking at him, and when she spoke it was clear she thought the same. ‘Imagine, if I had a sister and she found a new boyfriend, handsome, clever and charming with a great job, but it’s all top show. I can see it, but can my sister? She smiled.

  Returning her smile, he nodded. Not only was she a wiz with computers, she had learned to become a diplomat. He was thankful he was the only one who could activate the Artefact, otherwise he would be redundant.

  The bodiless voice spoke again, telling him they would be departing in one minute, with a journey time of thirty minutes.There were two attractive young women sitting at the front of the craft dressed in designer, navy blue suits. They could not have been more than twenty-one, yet they exuded an air of quiet confidence belying their apparent age, human backup…if they are human? he thought.

  When the announcement came that the craft was taking off, he waved his hand over the blue square and, sure enough an image appeared, an arm’s length in front of his eyes. This was a wide screen view of how he imagined things would look from the cockpit, if it had windows. The ground moved away from them at an astonishing rate, yet there was no sense of movement within the cabin.

  In a matter of seconds, they had passed through the clouds, without the usual destabilising effect it would have on an airplane dependent on, and subject to, air currents. Once they were high above the clouds, the ship began to hurtle forwards. Despite everything he knew of these beings, he was mesmerised by a visual experience telling him he was travelling at phenomenal speeds, while his body felt they had not moved at all.

  He turned to look at Emily, and saw she was also captivated. ‘Impressive?’ She returned an uncomfortable look. ‘Yeah, I suppose.’

  During the uneventful journey, the cabin crew never left their seats, and no further communications were directed at him. After several minutes, he tired of looking at the view screen, and turned his attention to his fellow passengers, retrieving items from their hand luggage, and helping themselves to drinks - which appeared to be non-alcoholic - and snacks. He was fascinated by the way in which discarded items, and hand luggage seemed to just disappear, when their owners had no further use for them. The half hour passed very quickly, even without conversation - the two of them had agreed in the hotel that it would be unwise to speak, while on board.

  The hitch free disembarkation was a mirror image of the embarkation procedure, and they soon found themselves standing in an open air plaza, outside the AGP serving TeCorp headquarters.

  Δ

  They found an area where they could not be overheard and, while keeping their backs to the nearest security cameras, pointed and gesticulated as if they were little more than excited tourists.

  It was blindingly obvious, even from where they stood, that TeCorp was courting the goodwill of the world. Keen to show anyone who was interested, basically anyone with a pulse, just how much easier and enjoyable, life was under Te’Corp’s benevolent, all encompassing care.

  During the flight, they had been told, by their ‘personal’ information service, that low level anti-grav shuttles to and from the port were frequent, and free. While not as plush as their larger cousins, they were a quick and simple way to demonstrate the A to Z mindset embraced by TeCorp. Several covered concourses each housed waiting transports, and one of those would soon be taking them to the site of the forthcoming signing ceremony, the TeCorp headquarters building, itself.

  The President would be arriving in six hours and after a tour of the facility, lasting a little over forty-five minutes, the ‘signing,’ with the added virtual presence of the other three nominated leaders, would take place. Gerry Wye, was scheduled to arrive ahead of the main party to ensure that everything ran smoothly, which meant he was already there.

  Emily told Jon of her background check on Mr. Wye. ‘A very unsavoury character, we need to avoid him, at all costs.’

  Her plans were meticulous. Accessing blueprints of the facility - lodged with the authorities - together with the records of several safety and compliance visits, she was able to interlace all the data with the ‘top secret’ itinerary of the President, and come up with a thorough breakdown of where they needed to be, and when.

  The building was not only the headquarters of TeCorp, but also its major R&D site and had grown at an alarming rate. One day there was nothing in the area except farmland, and three weeks later construction was nearing completion. None of the official data recorded the constant Te’an activity, beneath the site, for several years.

  The local town council acted with almost inde
cent haste in agreeing to the development. Why would they do otherwise? In their eyes they were going from a quiet rural area, hours from a major city, to the most important location on Earth. This was beyond their wildest imaginings and, to top it all, the changes were happening quicker than they thought was humanly possible, but as everyone now knew, Te’an involvement meant humanly possible was no longer a limiting factor.

  During the flight Jon made a mental note of every fact and assertion flooding his senses; he had to admire the sheer technical wizardry of a race that could create projects of such functional elegance. What he witnessed, as the images and sounds cascaded past him, was science and nature in perfect harmony. In another time, in different circumstances, he could happily live in a Te’an engineered world. Part of him wished he was simply on a sightseeing tour, but he quickly buried that impulse, knowing how Emily would react. It was the frightened part of him that would have reality transformed, so that the things he saw were as they appeared, and not as they really were.

  Briefly, the mental image of Jane was in front of him, cool and formidable, reminding him, without speaking, of the task ahead. Then the image was gone, but he felt more resolved than ever to get the job done. This was no memory, Jane had righted him when he was veering off course.

  He must have given something away, as Emily was regarding him with a worried look on her elfin face. ‘I'm scared as well, but there’s only you and me, no cavalry, remember?’ She looked towards the vista in front of them, and the people converging on the transports. ‘These guys are sold, there’s no-one out there who’s going to help us.’

  ‘You’re wrong Emily, someone is watching us, helping us.’

  ‘You mean them?’ she said looking upwards. He nodded, and then told her what he had just experienced, adding, ‘I don't think she, or the others, can physically help us, but they know what’s happening, and I felt stronger, more resolved after she left. It isn’t just you and me, kid.’