Sometimes It Is Rocket Science

by Thorpe, Kara

  “And the house called the ambulance.” Norwood Systems had been a technology pioneer for decades, but none of their past or current projects were as impressive as what his father had built on his own.

  “Not exactly. NORA isn’t connected to emergency services, yet. Your father wanted to wait until we had all the bugs worked out. She called me and I called the ambulance.” She stroked one of the walls lovingly. For the first time in his life, Robert was jealous of a piece of marble. “She’s a good system.”

  “What else does she control or monitor?”

  Georgiana tugged on his wrist and started up the wide, curved staircase. Their footsteps were silent on the plush, white carpet. “The basics: lighting, the HVAC system, security, the entertainment systems, the outdoor irrigation system, the pool, and a few appliances. She’s also connected to the Internet, so she monitors the news and weather. I don’t know Dan’s current settings, but she’s entirely customizable. We set up a barcode system so she keeps inventory in the kitchen and places an order with the company that delivers Dan’s groceries when stock is low. If there’s anything you like, you’ll have to add it manually and she’ll automatically upload it into the inventory masterlist.”

  “She has my mother’s voice.”

  “Yes. Your father wanted something familiar, I guess. It took weeks, but we uploaded every recording we could find of your mother.” Georgiana squeezed his wrist, smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry. I should have warned you about that. It must have been a shock.”

  “It was.” He didn’t know which was more surprising: that his father’s house talked or that it spoke with his long-dead mother’s voice. “Is there anything else?”

  “NORA controls the robotic mop and vacuums. I think Dan wanted to integrate several domestic robots. There are four gorgeous ones in the workshop, but he ran into a problem with the artificial intelligence, and I got sidetracked.”

  Robert groaned, shook his head. His father was brilliant when it came to robotics and engineering but had never had the patience for computer programs. Robert had a hard time believing Dan had set up the entire house by himself. His father was good, but the range of NORA’s capabilities was beyond incredible. “Did Dad bring in an outside contractor to help?”

  “No.” Georgiana released Robert’s wrist and stopped outside a closed door. Faint humming and whirling could be heard through the crack under the door. “Dan and I worked on it alone. Tab helped some. It’s not as elegant as it could be, but we made it work.”

  Robert nodded. That made sense. At first glance, Georgiana appeared to be nothing more than a carbon copy of her glamorous and gracious mother, but she had her father’s genius intellect, if not his exact programming or business finesse. “Why did Dad do this, though? He’d never expressed an interest in it before.”

  Georgiana blushed. She ducked her head. He half expected her to shuffle her feet. “It was for me. I asked him to help create a home system, and he insisted on installing the prototype in his house before we set one up in my townhouse.”

  He wanted to ask why she needed an automated home, but the look on her face made it clear that she’d shut down completely if he did. Relieving his curiosity would have to wait. “What’s this room?”

  She shot him a tight, grateful smile before tapping in her code on the keypad beside the door. It unlocked with a soft click. She twisted the heavy brass knob and nudged the door open with her foot. Dozens of monitors and racks of blade servers lined the small room’s walls. Despite the air vents were strategically placed on the floor and ceiling, the room was considerably warmer than the hallway.

  “This is the heart of NORA. All her data is backed up hourly and stored at a secure, off-site location as well as our private cloud.” Georgiana moved to a computer set up in the far corner. She perched on the edge of a short, padded stool. Her fingers flew across the keyboard. “Come on, I’ll set you up.”

  Robert sat patiently while Georgiana scanned his fingerprints, eyes, and face and then loaded them into the database. She politely turned her back while he entered his personal eight-digit access code and alphanumeric override code. When he mentioned that his personal chauffeur Allan and Cedric were due to fly in at the end of the week, she put their names into NORA’s system and set her to run background checks.

  “They were checked before I hired them,” Robert pointed out, arms crossed over his chest and foot tapping against the wood floor.

  “I’m sure they were, but all non-family members get checked again before they are given access to the house.” She bit down on her lower lip and continued typing commands. “It’s Dan’s rule, not mine.”

  “Were you checked?”

  “No.” She tilted her head and shrugged. “We are practically family, Bobby. Besides, I have a similar system at home. I’m not going to sell my security system to the highest bidder. It would be like giving them the keys to my home.”

  “Oh?” Robert arched a dark eyebrow. “And what are you protecting?”

  “Something infinitely more important than a few schematics and prototypes.” Georgiana clicked out of the program and turned off the monitor. “As soon as NORA finishes the check, she’ll send the information to Dan and me. One of us will set up limited access for Allan and Cedric.”

  She ran his father’s home as if it were her own. Were her reasons perfectly benign or did she have something to gain by being so close to Dan? “You said my access level is the same as yours. Does that mean I can go anywhere in the house?”

  “Of course you can. It includes Dan’s workshops in the garage and the master suite.”

  “What if I bring in my own projects that I want to make inaccessible to others?”

  If she was rattled by his icy tone and clipped consonants, it didn’t show. “Then we’ll clear out one of the rooms of your father’s workshop and change the access code for that room.” She gracefully slid past him and returned to the hallway. “I know you grew up here, but since setting up NORA, a couple of things have changed. Do you want a quick tour?”

  “No.” It was peevish of him, but he couldn’t stomach the thought of being given a guided tour of his childhood home. “I’ll look around later.”

  “Fine.” She pulled out a small ring of keys and dangled them in the space between them. “Here. Keys work as a manual back up, but you’ll need to identify yourself to NORA within ten seconds or the alarms will go off. NORA has my home and cell numbers if you need anything.”

  “Why’d you dye your hair?” It wasn’t the question he’d intended to ask, but the words had slipped out before he could stop them.

  The inquiry flustered her. She curled a fallen strand of hair around her finger and studied it. She was going to lie to him; he could feel it in his bones. Disappointment stung like a paper cut. The Georgiana of old had always been brutally honest.

  “I don’t know. It seemed like the thing to do at the time,” she said, gaze averted.

  “I didn’t recognize you when you grabbed me. I doubt anyone who doesn’t see you everyday would recognize you at first glance. Was that your intent?”

  “Jesus, Bobby, I don’t have time for an inquisition.”

  His eyes zeroed in on the fingers tapping her thigh and the restless energy radiating off her. He couldn’t forget how concerned Mrs. Mercer had been about her Georgiana’s exhaustion. The stark, white marble hallway washed the color out of her cheeks. She was petite, always had been when standing next to him or her father, but he’d never considered her delicate. Not until now.

  “Georgiana, is something wrong?”

  “No.” Her brittle smile did little to reassure him.

  “Are you ill? Is there a problem with Tab?”

  “Bobby, I’m fine,” she said, obviously the exact opposite of fine. She shook the keys. “I need to go home, now.”

  He wanted to reach for her, to pull her in his arms and do whatever it took to wipe that strained look off her face, but he settled for slipping the keys from her freezi
ng fingers. “I know we’ve drifted, Georgiana, but you can come to me if you need help.”

  “Thanks.” She popped up on her toes and brushed her lips across his cheek. She quietly removed herself from the room and slowly trekked down the stairs. “NORA, I’m leaving. Take care of Bobby.”

  “Good night, Georgie dear,” the house’s AI responded.

  Robert waited until he heard the Aston Martin’s engine rev to life before descending the stairs. He wandered into the gleaming white kitchen and leaned his elbows on the cool, granite countertop. “NORA, is there something remiss with Georgiana?”

  “At 140/85, Ms. Collier’s blood pressure is slightly elevated. Her heart and respiration rates are also elevated. However both are within acceptable parameters. Last analysis showed mild iron deficiency anemia, a deficiency in all required vitamins, and low levels of serotonin.”

  “No, damn it, that’s not what I meant.” Robert rubbed the back of his neck. He couldn’t get angry with the house, not when it sounded so much like his mother. “I’m sorry. Thank you, NORA.”

  It took twenty minutes to haul all five of his suitcases into the house. His old suite was free of dust. There were fresh linens on the bed. He was willing to bet every dollar in his wallet that it was Georgiana’s handiwork.

  He was tired. His second wind had faded halfway through dinner. While he’d been dining on heart-healthy cuisine, Cedric had sent preliminary data on Collier Analytics. He was dying to dive into the information, but the pillows looked so inviting. He managed to toe off his shoes before falling, face first, on the bed. He never noticed when NORA turned off the lights.

  Chapter Four:

  Georgiana gently pulled the front door shut. Though the bedrooms were on the third floor, she knew how well sound traveled up the staircases. She crouched to unbuckle the straps around her ankles. A small spotlight flickered on above her left shoulder.

  “Thanks, ERIC.” She affectionately ran her fingertips along the wall before slipping off her dress shoes and tucking them under her arm.

  ERIC’s voice, a soothing tenor voice chosen from a database by Dan, was softened to a whisper as he listed the vital signs of house’s other occupant. He wasn’t programmed for it, but Georgiana swore she could hear sympathy in the AI’s tone. She quickly and silently made her way up two flights of stairs.

  No interior lights were on and all the curtains were drawn to keep out the moonlight and streetlights. Georgiana could navigate the third floor hallway blindfolded, sick, and, as she’d learned after her MIT graduation, blindingly drunk. She unerringly stepped into her bedroom. The door had been removed, along with all others except for the front door, five months earlier. Dark fabric shower curtains suspended by tension rods across the bathroom and closet doorways allowed the illusion of privacy.

  She grabbed the old MIT t-shirt and yoga pants she wore for pajamas off the end of the bed. The bathroom attached to her bedroom was cool and still. The overhead lights slowly grew brighter.

  “No,” she bit out, turning her head sharply from the mirror. “Turn them off.”

  Georgiana didn’t need lights to change clothes or wash off her makeup, and she didn’t want to have to look at her reflection. She didn’t want to see the sunken eyes and hollowed cheeks. She couldn’t stand looking at the utter failure reflected in the mirror.

  She bumped her shins twice on the toilet while changing into her pajamas. Her hands shook and her knees trembled. Tears pricked the corners of her aching eyes. She had only picked at her dinner, and she needed to eat. Since that awful phone call from NORA about Dan’s attack, she’d been running on adrenaline. Food had been relegated to an afterthought. Not that she’d had much of an appetite since early October.

  Shortly after installing ERIC, she’d set up drink dispensers in several rooms on the third floor. There was a microwave in the small sitting room between the two smaller bedrooms and a mini-fridge in each bedroom. She’d tried to make things as convenient as possible.

  All the machines were wired to the same tanks of orange juice, milk, filtered water, and apple juice and they all included a paper cup dispenser. The tanks were stored in the main refrigerator on the second floor; a free hose was available for dispensing soda or any other drink on the refrigerator’s queue. Georgiana lifted a paper cup out of the holder and pressed the button for orange juice.

  Once the cup was filled, she lifted it to her lips. Hopefully the cold, tart drink would soothe her scratchy throat and raise her blood sugar level. Rather than sweet, pulpy orange juice, a thick, vanilla-flavored liquid coated her tongue. She swallowed reflexively, licked her lips clean of the gritty residue.

  “What was that?” she asked, glaring up at the space she knew a sensor was located.

  “A protein shake. My records indicate that you are currently fifteen pounds underweight, and the results from this morning’s urine analysis fall just outside minimum parameters.”

  “You’re supposed to monitor Tab, you know-it-all electronic nag.”

  “I am programmed to monitor all inhabitants, Georgiana,” ERIC responded, the slightest hint of exasperation present in his tone. “I can show you the specific portions of my programming if you’d like.”

  Georgiana took another sip of the horrid drink. The AI wouldn’t dispense anything else until it was ready. She regretted allowing Tab to mess with ERIC’s personality code. Her brother was a genius on comparison with Robert Norwood or their father in terms of programming and AI work. If Tab had been at full capacity, he would have smoothed over all the snags she and Dan ran in to within hours. Then again, if Tab had been at full capacity, she wouldn’t have needed to create ERIC.

  “For the record, I prefer strawberry.”

  “Noted. I will add it to the next grocery order.”

  “Thanks.” She slumped against the wall, tipped the cup back, and chugged the rest of the protein shake. She rinsed the cup with water from the tap and drank a cup of lukewarm, slightly metallic water.

  The bedroom across from hers was silent. She eyed her bed wistfully. The quilt and top sheet were still tangled around the curved iron footboard. Her eyelids drooped and a heavy wave of exhaustion hit her so hard she swayed.

  A muffled whimper from Tab’s bedroom drifted across the hall. She swallowed the bitter taste of fatigue and stumbled into the other bedroom. She conjured a mental map of where every piece of furniture was located in the room. Five steps later, her right foot struck the leg of her brother’s oak desk.

  A yelp rose in her throat. She clamped her lips shut. Fire traveled from her injured toe all the way to her knee. Limping, she made her way to the canary yellow wingback chair she’d dragged up from her mother’s old sitting room. The chair was positioned so that she could reach the bed if she needed to, but far enough away that if she read or used her tablet computer the light wouldn’t wake Tab.

  Glad to be off her throbbing foot, she sank onto the firm cushion. Huddled under thick blankets despite the relatively mild temperature, Tab whimpered and shifted restlessly. Georgiana wrapped her fingers around his covered ankle. He shifted towards her as if searching for more contact.

  She couldn’t imagine what horrors filled his dreams. The nightmares were a nightly occurrence. They’d tried sleeping pills, pain medication, and herbal remedies but nothing stopped the dreams. She’d wanted to seek further treatment, but he’d stopped her. He saw the nightly mental torture as a twisted sort of penance.

  “Gigi?”

  She was on her feet in an instant. The mattress barely registered the addition of her slight weight. She settled against the headboard and pulled her brother on to her lap. Though taller by at least six inches and built like a linebacker, Théophile Bertrand Collier felt so frail in her arms.

  “Oh, Gigi,” he rasped, his voice rough from tears and sleep. He buried his sweat-soaked face in the curve of her shoulder. Strong hands gripped her waist hard enough to leave bruises.

  “Shh,” she murmured, raking a hand through his damp, ho
ney blond hair. She continued to massage his scalp and whisper soothingly into his ear until he drifted back off to a restless sleep.

  With Tab sniffling and crying in his sleep against her, she turned her head to face the door. The wooden headboard was cool and smooth against her cheek. The tears she’d tried so hard to contain slipped out from between her eyelashes. Her brother was in pain, and nothing she did eased that pain.

  Six months earlier, things had been easy, relatively speaking. Their father had still been dead, but the grief had dulled with time. Georgiana had been struggling to live up to his legacy as a CEO and software genius. Tab had been at a prep school in Dallas unwilling to skip grades like his sister. They’d made plans for a weekend of shopping and movies. Though he didn’t care much for shopping, he welcomed every opportunity to drive his new Mercedes SUV.

  Halfway between Dallas and Houston, he’d lost control of the Mercedes and crossed the grassy median into oncoming traffic. The luxury SUV hit a small pickup truck traveling well over the speed limit. The driver and passenger hadn’t been wearing their seatbelts. Tab was the only survivor.

  He’d been trapped in his car. Despite his head injury and the shock, he’d managed to find his cell phone and call her. When her brain slowed down, she could still hear his awful, tearful words. He’d seen the two bodies on the grass and the blood. He apologized and cried over and over. She hadn’t wanted to hang up on him, but she needed to call emergency services.

  She didn’t remember getting dressed or meeting the ambulance in Huntsville. The poor lady at the admitting desk had kindly put up with her terse answers and biting sarcasm. When all the damn forms had finally been filled out, an orderly had escorted her to her brother. He was still strapped to the stretcher with a brace wrapped around his neck; Georgiana had beaten the doctor to him.