Veronica, known as a Personal AI, controlled everything in the house from heating and cooling to ordering groceries. She harnessed a massive worldwide network of information, the Internet, established over 20,000 years ago by a group of network gurus out of Guam. Today, the Internet existed as an all-powerful conglomeration of countless AI technologies, Veronica included. With a simple command, she could brew a pot of coffee using beans that grew two hours earlier in a sustainable cropland on the other side of the planet.
Max returned to the living room and joined Ross on the couch.
“Meow,” Ross said, making fun of Max’s ludicrous attire.
“Why yes, I do look quite dapper,” Max said, adding a wink.
“Yes, you do, Master. You are the sexiest man I know.”
“Meow,” Ross said, conveying his disgust.
Max leaned back into the couch and tossed an arm over the rear cushion. His eyes wandered around the basement like a hotel guest scoring an upgrade. Much to his surprise, the reality shift elicited more curiosity than anxiety. He began to ponder explanations. “Maybe I’m a warlock,” he said to himself. “No, a superhero! Bit by a radioactive time-warped mongoose. Ooo, or a time traveler. Hey Veronica, what year is it?”
“5-622-734.”
“Um, can you be more specific?”
“The year is 734 in the 622nd millennia of the fifth billion-year Earth cycle.”
“What happened to AD and BC?”
“I am not familiar with these terms.”
Max fell into stunned silence as the revelation washed over him. His chin opted to depart his face as an onslaught of tingles filled his stomach. Scooting to the edge of the couch, he lifted open palms into the air. “Now hold on just a minute. You mean to say that ... wow. Um, okay. Veronica ... are you familiar with a fellow named Jesus Christ?”
“No. However, there is a Jesus Christopher that lives in Seattle.”
Max placed a hand over his mouth and fell back into the couch, which responded with a form-fitting recline. “Holy crap, so that’s it.” He stared into the open air with the full weight of awareness. “Ross, this world lacks superstition.”
“Meow,” Ross said, deriding the obvious statement.
“Do you know what this means? There are no churches, no televangelists, no halfwits blocking progress, no door-to-door ninnies hawking their delusions.” Max paused to savor the epiphany. “No priests, no popes, no theocrats, no fish decals, no chocolate bunnies, no ... no Christmas.” Max hated Christmas. The combination of forced interaction and over-the-top consumerism made him want to punch a baby.
“Meow,” Ross said before initiating a lengthy grooming session.
“I have to check this out.” Max searched for the television remote, only to discover the nonexistence of a television. “Veronica, where is my television?”
“I am not familiar with this term.”
“Um, the device that lets me see things like shows and news and such.”
“Do you mean the holographic projection system?”
“Uh ... yes.”
“I can open that for you. What visual entertainment would you enjoy?”
“News, please.”
The open area in front of the couch filled with a three-dimensional photo-real projection of two news anchors discussing the events of the day. His eyes and ears devoured the new world with an intense fascination. After a few minutes of assimilating his new reality, Max came to a rather stunning conclusion. “There’s no bad news. The pundits are speaking with civil tones about good things. Veronica, show me a biased news station.”
“I am unsure of what you mean.”
“You know, a station devoted to bad news or scaring old people.”
“I am not aware of this strategy. News is a public service that is strictly regulated by fairness doctrines. Reporters, by law and the nature of their positions, are required to present pertinent information without the skews of bias.”
“But is there no bad news?”
“Again, I am unsure of what you mean. What you are watching is the news. Should something bad happen that warrants reporting, then it will be reported. Last week, a high-speed maglev train in Denver was delayed for several minutes due to a flock of dodo birds resting on the tracks. That was considered bad news, and it was duly reported.”
Max grinned. “This just keeps getting better and better.”
The broadcast paused for a brief commercial break. A variety of companies advertised their wares without the use of obnoxious music, sexual innuendo, or crass humor. Each and every ad followed a civil formula, presenting digestible information via a neutral-toned representative. A message from a local travel agency rounded out the intermission.
“Warm greetings from the Universal Travel Company,” a saleswoman said. “Are you looking for a little adventure? Perhaps a change of scenery? Why not treat yourself to the many wonders the galaxy has to offer?” A rotating planetary system appeared beside her. “Now offering package rates to Orion’s Belt. Take the entire family to the Tarocar Parks and enjoy the famed Mineral Seas. And for a limited time, take advantage of deep discounts to Centauri Station where you can bask in the warm glows of the Alpha triad. Don’t you deserve a little time away? Book your travel today with UTC, serving you and me.” A pleasant melody ended the commercial, cueing a colorful swipe that resumed the news broadcast.
Max sat motionless as beads of drool accumulated at the base of his gaping mouth. The reporters babbled on about this and that, relegated to a dull background roar. After a huff of stupefaction, Max took a deep breath and reattached his wayward jaw.
“Veronica?”
“Yes, Master?”
“I’m going to need a detailed profile on the Universal Travel Company and a full pot of espresso.”
“Yes sir, right away.”
* * *
Max’s advanced new surroundings came via a simple yet monumental tweak. He had shifted to a world where Ookanook had slapped his brother. To put it another way, Max found himself in a world without religion.
The story of Ookanook is the story of religion itself. About 50,000 years ago, three Neanderthal brothers of the Upper Paleolithic were out hunting caribou. Ookanook had spotted a large herd over a hill and motioned for his two brothers, Erkamek and Puntamey, to join him. With spears at the ready, the three brothers isolated a giant caribou buck. Puntamey hurled his spear, striking the buck in the rear flank. Injured and very angry, the buck charged Puntamey down and buried a sharp antler into his chest, killing him.
That evening, the two brothers grieved for their fallen sibling while their tribe feasted on the flesh of the killer. The family had dug a hole in which to bury Puntamey, as was the custom at the time because nobody wanted to smell a rotting corpse. After lowering the body into the hole, Erkamek laid his brother’s broken spear beside him along with a few of his favorite tools. At that moment, Erkamek and Ookanook had the following conversation.
“Why did you put those there?” Ookanook said.
“So he can use them in the afterlife,” Erkamek said.
“The what?”
“The afterlife. The place you go after this life.”
Ookanook thought for a moment, then turned to Erkamek and slapped him across the cheek. “That is quite possibly the stupidest thing I have ever heard. Those are perfectly good tools down there and a corpse sure as stink doesn’t need them. Now climb your dumbass back down there and retrieve them.”
With a single open-handed palm to the face, Ookanook had snuffed out religion on planet Earth and paved the way for a hyper-advanced global society.
* * *
Thrusters ceased and spun down as the Europa Center dock gripped the small freighter. The ship dropped a few inches into a locked position, causing Perra to stumble and catch herself on a stack of cargo crates. She dropped a pair of sling bags beside the airlock as the indicator light pinged from red to green. The door slid open, revealing a long, clear corridor leading to the E
uropa Center. A burst of clean, cool air rushed into the vessel, lifting a smile on Perra’s face as she glanced down at a vast sea of jagged glaciers. Deep blue crevasses snaked along the white plains, wrapping the tunnels in ribbons of cobalt reflections. Towering pylons of clear composite supported the massive docking system, falling a hundred meters to the icy surface below.
“We’re clear,” Zoey said, emerging from the cockpit. “Are you ready?”
“Beyond words,” Perra said with a widening grin.
As they turned to exit the ship, they discovered a tall, slender man in a dark gray suit waiting for them just inside the corridor. His icy blue complexion, matching eyes, and cropped white hair complemented the landscape.
“It is a pleasure to greet you, courier Bryx,” the smiling man said.
“You must be Supervisor Lanwei,” Zoey said as they stepped into the corridor.
“In the flesh,” Lanwei said and offered a polite bow.
“This is my companion, Perra.”
“An absolute pleasure,” Lanwei said, reaching out to her with an open palm.
Perra placed her hand into his and received a gentle kiss atop it. She let out a polite snicker. “Pardon my ignorance, but are you Qeenish?”
“Did my lovely blue smile give me away?” Lanwei erupted with a mannered laugh. “I only jest. Yes, madam, I am a Qeen. I am actually a direct descendant of Qeen Lord Jervec who founded the Europa Center. In fact, most of the service staff you will encounter here are at least part Qeenish. The current ownership likes to maintain a certain level of historical authenticity.”
“How very interesting,” Perra said, offering a thoughtful smile.
“And if you would permit me, I am here to escort you both to your VIP suite.”
“VIP suite?” Zoey said, raising an eyebrow. “We did not request one.”
“I am aware, although the owners of this esteemed establishment balked at the thought of someone with your credentials staying in a standard residence. They have provided you with an upgrade free of charge and insisted that we offer you and your radiant guest the first two cycles as complimentary.” A large grin stretched across Lanwei’s face.
“That is most gracious,” Zoey said. “We are humbled by your kind offer, and please pass along our appreciation.”
“Most certainly. Have you any bags? I have secured a hover cart for you.”
“Yes, just the two small bags inside the airlock.”
“Very good.” Lanwei stepped towards the airlock with a shiny hover cart humming behind. He loaded both bags onto the cart and tapped a code into the control panel. The cart pinged in acceptance, secured the bags underneath an energy field, and zipped down the corridor. “Your bags will be secured inside your suite while you enjoy some time exploring the station.”
“Thank you,” Zoey said. “And our ship will stay docked here?”
“Yes. I have received strict instructions that your ship remain attached to the main dock for purposes of ongoing surveillance. You will notice that your vessel occupies the last airlock of a private sector. This area will receive no foot traffic other than your own.”
“Perfect.”
Lanwei nodded. “Now, if you will follow me please.”
The airlock door slid shut as Zoey and Perra walked hand-in-hand behind Supervisor Lanwei, wide-eyed and beaming. Ahead of them, a massive aqua green structure with towering panels and sharp angles seemed to float above the harsh landscape. The shadow of an enormous white support pillar stretched out across the icy surface far below. They passed under a gleaming archway and into a luxurious lobby filled with ice sculptures and extravagant art pieces. High fashion and uniformed service personnel seemed to flow in all directions. The open air of a multi-floored expanse featured numerous shops and restaurants, all with posh exteriors. Perra lifted her gaze and gasped as Jupiter’s monstrous profile poured through the clear ceiling panels.
“Just one more item of business,” Lanwei said as they approached the front desk. He leaned over to one of many receptionists, whispered some instructions, and retrieved a handheld iris scanner. “If you would be so kind as to look at me for a moment.” Lanwei held the device up to Zoey’s eye, resulting in a sharp ping of confirmation, then repeated the process for Perra. “Very good, you are both checked in and are free to wander about.” Lanwei pointed his way through a well-rehearsed introduction. “All suites are located on the third floor. Elevators are behind you. You are staying in VIP Suite #2. The spa and the cluster-famous Astral Tear are at the end of the main corridor in front of you. Please alert any staff member if you need anything at any time. On behalf of everyone here at the Europa Center, we hope you enjoy your stay.” Lanwei’s face stretched into a toothy smile as he bowed once again.
“Thank you, kind sir,” Zoey said, returning a slight bow.
Lanwei turned with a stiff posture and disappeared into a sea of wandering people. Zoey and Perra glanced at each other with pursed smiles.
“So what shall we do first?” Zoey said.
“Need you ask?” Perra locked arms with Zoey. “To the Astral Tear.”
They traded muted squeals and trotted down the main corridor.
CHAPTER 5
Max paced around the swank basement. A half-emptied pot of espresso steamed atop the hovering coffee table. Restless fingers highlighted imaginary bullet points as his caffeinated brain built a plan of attack. “Okay, okay,” he said, wagging both index fingers in unison. “I can grab an auto-cab to the maglev train station in downtown Albuquerque. From there, I can hop the Southwestern line to the nearest spaceport, which you tell me is in Houston. That trip will take about 35 minutes.” Max paused and shook his head. “Still melts my brain. Anyway, I should be able to purchase my UTC ticket to Centauri Station on the train, and if all goes well, I can be on a shuttle to the Mars relay port in less than five hours. Does that sound feasible?”
A few seconds of dead silence passed.
“Master,” Veronica said, her tone polite yet worried. “I think this is too hasty of an approach. Would it not be better to plan this out over a few days?”
“No, you don’t understand, it has to be today.”
“But, might I suggest—”
“No, today. I don’t have time to explain.”
“But sir—”
“But nothing!” Max huffed and closed his eyes.
“Sir?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
“It’s okay, Master. I apologize for the provocation.”
“No need. I know this doesn’t make any sense.” Max sighed and glanced around the room. “I don’t expect you to understand. Hell, even I don’t understand. It just has to be today.” He lowered his head and took a deep breath. “All I have ever wanted was a way out. I want out of this life, out of this place, out of society, everything, all of it. I have never fit in. I have never felt welcome or wanted. I have always been the outcast, no matter where I go. I’m that solitary weirdo, the guy nobody feels comfortable around. I am sick of feeling like an alien on my own damn planet.” Max wiped his watering eyes. “I have a rare opportunity to leave it all behind and I do not intend on wasting it, even if it’s only for a day or two.” He stared into the open air while nodding with a slow and assured pace. “I should be able to make it to Mars before I fall asleep. That will be more than enough.”
“But sir, there are other considerations.”
Max snapped out of his trance. “Like what?”
“Bills, for instance. Your current savings will not maintain a household and a trip to Centauri Station.”
“Just charge it to my parents or something.”
“They do not maintain your household.”
“What the f—what? This is my house?”
“Yes. You purchased it three years ago.”
“How? I don’t have any money, or a job for that matter.”
“I do not understand. Your account shows a positive balance and your employer shows
an active status.”
“My emp— How is that possible? I have never applied for a job.”
“You obtained your legal adult status at thirteen after completing your primary education. You then obtained gainful employment in your field of study, as most do.”
“I guess I didn’t go to college then.”
“I am not familiar with this term.”
“College. You know, higher education. A fancy place that overcharges you for more learning.”
“I do not understand. Education is free to all as a basic right under the global accord. You have completed your primary education, which grants you access to a career path. You are free to pursue other fields of study at your leisure, which opens additional career paths, as is your right. Charging for knowledge would be a violation of the law and of basic human dignity.”
Max fell into a brief silence. He recalled the time he sat down with a financial aid officer while planning for college. His parents, despite earning respectable salaries, could not afford the exorbitant tuition costs. The officer pushed his products like a used car salesman, using flawed logic and pressure tactics. He even copped an attitude at one point, as if holding the keys to a happy life. Knowing that school loans lingered like a financial noose, even after bankruptcy, it rubbed Max the wrong way. “Prick.”
“I am sorry if I offended you, Master.”
“No, not you, sorry.” He cleared his throat. “So what is my career?”
“You have worked as a game designer for three years.”
Max smirked. “Of course I do. And based on this sweet pad, I must be a genius designer with an impeccable reputation.”
“You are ranked as a competent designer with average intelligence. This domicile meets the requirements of an entry-level home.”
Max scowled at the nearest control panel. “Ever heard of subtlety?”
Max and the Multiverse, #1 Page 5