Future Discovered: Host Saga Book 1

by Michael Farlow

  “I was in town and thought I would stop by to say hello. May I come in?” Barbara said.

  He wanted to tell her to go to hell, his anger at her coming back. But his manners overrode his emotions. “Why not?” he said and stepped back to give her room to enter as he swept his arm slowly and motioned her in.

  “This is still a great house, Van, and you keep it in such good shape.”

  “Yeah, it keeps on getting older, but fresh paint helps. Is that why you’re here? To have a look at the old place? I’d show you around, but as I recall, you already know it well.” Van caught himself before slipping further back into anger mode.

  “Touché. Can I sit? I promise I won’t be long,” Barbara said.

  “Sure. The couch is comfortable here.” He sat and motioned Barbara to the far end of the couch away from him. “Why are you here?”

  “I’m worried about you. I just learned from some friends that you’ve recently been in an accident and may have lost some of your memory. Is that right?”

  “Yes.” But he was asking himself, What friends?

  “Well, part of the memory you’ve lost is some recent work with me and the Carson Group.”

  “Did Dick send you here?” I’ll give him a piece of my mind if he did!

  “No. I came here on my own. Before you lost some of your memory, we had been working together. In that time, we worked out most of our old differences and were even getting to like each other again. That was important to me. So important that I flew out to see you.”

  “So you didn’t just happen to drop by?”

  “No. I came on purpose. But it wasn’t easy for me. Our roles seem to be reversed from many years ago, and I now know at least a little about how you felt back then.”

  “And it’s still hard for me now. I don’t have the new memories you seem to have. So what did you expect to happen by your coming to see me? The shock of seeing you might bring my memory back and you could continue on whatever gravy train you were on?”

  Barbara jumped to her feet, all inhibitions gone. “You conceited, self-righteous shit!” she yelled. “I came here out of real concern, and you insult me by making me seem like a gold digger.”

  Van abruptly stood up to look her in the eyes and said, “Well gee, excuse me for not understanding. You’re the woman who essentially walked out on me for something better and didn’t look back. How do you expect me to act?”

  “I expect you to use some of that so-called giant intellect people give you credit for and consider the circumstances!” she continued as she clutched her purse in both hands.

  Van was now standing closer and pointing a finger in her face, his anger becoming uncontrollable. “Listen, lady, don’t be so quick to forget our past circumstance. If I recall—” But before he could say any more, his expression went slack and he collapsed onto the floor.

  Shocked, Barbara fell to her knees and cradled Van’s head between her hands, softly saying, “Van, Van. Wake up! Please wake up! I apologize. I really do.” Tears started to stream from her eyes.

  Moments later, Van’s eyes slowly opened and he said, “Apologize for what? What are you doing here, Barbara? Why are you crying? Why am I on the floor?”

  Relief filled her. Van appeared OK, but she also realized that he may have struck a vein of truth in his short tirade before passing out. She didn’t think she was a gold digger, but she realized that Van was different now than he’d been years ago. He was more successful, more involved in everything, and, yes, apparently richer. And this new combination piqued her interest and felt like something she could invest in. Am I only about money and position after all? she wondered. Maybe, but I don’t think that’s bad to some degree. A girl has to think of her future.

  That revelation aside, Barbara wasn’t sure if Van’s memory was still faulty, or, as if by some miracle, he may have regained it. Playing it safe, she said, “Well, I was in town and had some time so I decided to drop by and ask you to dinner. Just after I got inside you tripped on that end table, fell, and hit your head. You OK now?” she said, trying to avoid bringing up their argument.

  “I think so. But I don’t remember falling. For that matter, I don’t remember much for a day or so. Strange. Everything else seems OK,” he said, rubbing the back of his head.

  Apparently agitating Van enough had caused his memory processes to ignite, and the sudden shock had caused him to pass out. Assuming this to be the case, Barbara decided to fill him in. “You were in a car accident and hit your head. You lost some short-term memory. That happens, I’m told. Usually wears off in a day or so. It appears that you’ve recovered your memories now. You feel OK?”

  “Other than feeling a little stupid at just finding you here, I guess I am. How short-term is short-term?”

  Barbara was relieved; he was back to normal. It was an emotional relief as well as a confirmation that she may yet have a future with him—the successful Van. “What’s the last thing you remember before seeing me here?”

  “We did the Libya op. This house was restored after being ransacked. I talked a little with Dick, and I think I was going to see Al Craig.”

  “You just don’t remember the accident, the hospital, or coming home on your own?”

  “None of that, right up to and including, apparently, meeting you at the door today.”

  “I’d say that’s a major step. Do you feel like eating?” she asked with a smile.

  “Come to think of it, I am hungry. But why do I have the feeling there is more going on than just getting something to eat?”

  “Well, there are few things we need to discuss—between you and me. I would just prefer it be someplace with fewer memories and more relaxing, if you don’t mind.”

  “OK, I guess I can take that at face value.” Van slowly stood with Barbara’s help. “You drove, right?”

  “Yes, I have a rental car.”

  “Good. Why don’t we meet at that Italian place, Trattoria or something, on Third Avenue in Chula Vista? Say in about an hour, I need to clean up. I have a rental car now as well.”

  “I’ll meet you there and it’ll be my treat,” Barbara said as she gathered her purse, kissed him on the cheek, and headed out the door to her car.

  When Van arrived at the restaurant, Barbara was already seated and having a drink.

  “What are you drinking?” he asked.

  “A vodka gimlet.”

  “Going strong early?”

  “Sort of. This is my second.”

  “Ouch. Then I’ll have one too.” He motioned to the waiter that he would have the same. “I have to admit, this is only my second time here. It’s not quite as simple as the Barrel Room.”

  “I like the Barrel Room, but not what happened there.”

  “True. I’m starving, though. Can we order now and talk after?” After ordering, he said, “OK, now spill. Why are you really here?”

  “Listen, Van, the last time we had, or almost had, dinner, we were trying to set ground rules for working together. I thought we were headed in a good direction before you had to leave, so to speak. I was wondering if you had a chance to think about what we were saying.”

  “To be truthful, Barbara, and while there’s not been much free time, I have given it some thought.”

  “Really?” she said with the start of a smile. She lowered her chin to her palm, staring at Van.

  “Yes really. I’m sure we can work together. That might have been an issue before our earlier talk, but it makes sense.”

  “Is that all?” The smile disappeared and she sat up straight again.

  “Listen, I think I know where you’re going with this, but I want to know for sure. Enough people have been hinting about it. Are you interested in renewing our previous relationship?”

  Barbara flicked her head up. “Who’s been hinting and what have they said?”

  “Don’t get upset. Nothing in particular. Just comments dropped here and there suggesting that something was rekindling between us.”

&
nbsp; “Is it?”

  “Barbara, you have to understand that over eight years ago I was in love with you. You were the most important person to me, and I imagined a future together.” This was more than Van had intended to say. In fact, it was probably more revealing than he had ever been with her.

  “And now?”

  Van wasn’t prepared for that glib response to his exposed feelings and went into a defensive mode. “Give me a break. I had some hard adjustments to make after you left. You made it pretty clear that you made a mistake. I didn’t like it one bit, but you know I tried. So I put everything in a box and sealed it up, so to speak.”

  “And now?” she said again with an impish grin.

  “Well, to be truthful, I’m not sure. It may be a matter of trust,” he said, his anxiety easing a little.

  “Now we’re making progress.” She took a sip of her drink, her grin transforming into something softer, more genuine, and lowered her chin back into her palm.

  “Besides, you have a boyfriend in DC,” Van noted.

  “Not anymore.”

  “What happened?”

  “Let’s just say that he became really boring, and let it go at that.”

  “And I’m not boring?”

  “Far from it lately, Van. Sometimes annoying or scary, but not boring.”

  “Well good for me, I’m not boring. If it works for you, it works for me,” he said as their food was delivered. “Was there something else?”

  “Actually, yes. Dick thinks you need to move out of the house and into your cabin.”

  “What?” Van’s fork stopped in midair.

  “For security, dummy! The cabin is apparently easy to cover and secure. It would be a safer place than the Chula Vista house. You can still go to San Diego or elsewhere when you want or need. I thought he mentioned that to you before.”

  “Come to think of it, I believe he did.” He raised his fork and resumed eating.

  “Then you’ll do it?”

  “I’ll consider it.”

  Van couldn’t yet tell her why the cabin was a safer place than she knew. And he couldn’t deny that Meier had been making life difficult for him lately. Why make it easy for him? Van thought.

  In his townhouse, Meier stopped playing and abruptly stood up from his piano. It’s no good! he thought as he started to pace. He tried playing a few of his favorites, but his fingers were not responding the way he needed them today. He was having muscle spasms that were apparently the result of the progressing ALS. Playing was his favorite pastime when he wasn’t sailing on his yacht or making business deals. He couldn’t even enjoy the endless number of women available to him—for a price.

  Compared to his historical standards, Meier also thought his decision processes were changing. Things don’t come to me as quickly as they used to. And I am worried my emotions are starting to override my logic. I must be strong!

  Fortunately, through planning and some luck, he had been successful in slowing down Childs and Stellar, but not in finding the site he suspected Van had located. That would take time he may not have. Good opponents have a knack for getting back on their feet and causing trouble. Why not try the direct approach again? he thought. Nothing clandestine or ominous. Just simple.

  CHAPTER 30

  During the week following Barbara’s visit, Van began taking his friends’ comments about security to heart. He decided they were probably right and reluctantly moved most of his belongings from the Chula Vista house into storage and saved a few things for the cabin. He arranged with a real estate friend to rent the house. This was not a new experience and had long ago become an easy process. In his Navy days he had done the same often when he’d deployed with a squadron or a detachment. In fact, the house had been rented out for six straight years while he’d been in Washington, DC, for two tours. The good thing was that it was a simple house and easy to maintain and repair. He thought about selling it, but it had been the one thing in his adult life that was a constant. The cabin might someday take the place of the house, but the house was more important emotionally—a constant positive connection to his life to date.

  Van stopped by Mr. Jacob’s office as well as Al’s in Rancho Bernardo. He told them both he was going to move to the Arizona cabin and even take a few trips. He would still be part of Stellar, but a largely absent part. Al would be the president and substantial owner. The SCIF, however, was still out of bounds.

  They both knew how to contact him, and he reminded Al that he would still get technology tips from him. Then it was off to the cabin. For those possibly still watching him, it would appear that he was retiring from the world and going off to be a hermit in the mountains. Exactly what he wanted them to think.

  Back at Site R, Van called out, “Harry, I’m home.”

  “So I see, Commander, and welcome back!”

  “Thanks, good to be back. Now that I’m here and can remember, don’t you have some things to show me?”

  “Indeed I do, Commander. But first I think it best that you spend a short time in the medical chamber. I have moved it up to Level 1. It would be best to be sure everything is ‘just right,’ as you would say. We can also refresh your nanites. Then we can go to Level 3 and I will meet you there.”

  “OK.” Suddenly Van was caught by Harry’s words “I will meet you there.” He had never said that before. But he climbed into the chamber, keeping his wonder to himself.

  When the chamber opened, Van awoke feeling refreshed and perhaps better than ever. Then, based on Harry’s last instruction, he climbed out of the chamber and took the elevator to Level 3.

  When the elevator doors opened, Van nearly jumped out of his skin. There’s a man here. No, wait. Is this Harry?

  “Harry?” he asked in disbelief, stopping in his tracks.

  “Yes, Commander, it is I. I could say ‘in the flesh,’ but that would not exactly be true. You see my external composition is an amalgam of—”

  But Van cut him off. “Harry, I expected a robot like the ones on Level 5, not this!”

  “I can take that form as well, if you like, Commander. I can be back in about thirty minutes looking more like the robot you expected.”

  “No, no, no, Harry, this is perfect—astonishing and perfect. Let me walk around you for a minute.” As he walked around the transformed AI, Van was beyond impressed. “Amazing. I can’t tell you aren’t human. Walk across the floor and back.”

  Harry walked to the nearest wall and came back.

  “I wish I had another word other than ‘amazing’ or perhaps ‘astonishing.’ You look real, you sound real, and you walk real. Amazing! Oops, I said it again. I assume that this is a representation and that you are still actually in the computer core, true?”

  “Yes and no, Commander. This mobile unit is entirely capable of functioning on its own, albeit with my programming. I can make changes to the unit, give it new instructions, or delete others. It cannot assume all my duties as an autonomous unit, however. It just does not have the memory storage or computing power of my core. But while it is in communications with me, it is essentially the same as me.”

  “Can you eat?”

  “In this body I don’t require food, but I can appear to eat, and the food is deposited in a container that I can later remove and dispose of. My temperature is also regulated to a standard 98.7 degrees Fahrenheit. My visual system appears normal, but I can also see to microscopic levels as well as great distances. I might add that I can transfer most of my sensor data to you via your implant link. That will allow you to see what I see and hear what I hear, for example. I can move at much greater speeds than humans, and I am quite strong.”

  On the one hand, to Van this was just another fiftyish man with graying hair. Not dumpy or geekish skinny but someone who kept himself fit with exercise and was alert and bright. This new man still hadn’t grasped the use of common contractions that might have given his speech a little less the air of formality, but it fit with the genius persona that Harry had and that
Van was pleased with. It would also tend to keep most people at arm’s length from Harry, who would never be just one of the guys. Van could say Harry was the ultimate introvert with no sense of humor, to further explain his apparent aloofness. And he would be right in a robotic sort of way. It would be interesting to see how or if Harry changed over time. He was, after all, a heuristic AI.

  “How much do you weigh in this form?”

  “A little over three hundred of your pounds.”

  Van laughed out loud.

  “Why are you laughing, Commander?”

  “I was just thinking of what some of my old Navy friends would ask at this point.”

  “What would that be, Commander?”

  “Can you make a woman?”

  “I believe I can, Commander. Would you like me to do so?”

  “No, no, no!” Van said with more laughter. “That is just what some friends of mine would think of first.” Then Van got serious for a minute. “You do understand that we are NOT making a woman correct?”

  “Correct, Commander.”

  “That’s a relief. What else do you have for me? The shuttle I hope?”

  “Yes, Commander, just over here. Let me remove this covering.”

  When the tarp came off, Van was again stunned and very pleased. “What shuttle is this, Harry?”

  “This is the B1 from the Borneo Site. I flew it here over a week ago and have been working on it myself, actually, with a few of the Blue and Red robots and, of course, the fabrication machine.”

  “You have outdone yourself. It looks more like a fat Marine F-35 than a shuttle, landing gear and all. I see you’ve used twin tails to accommodate the loading ramp. And there do appear to be fuel tanks, bulging but faired in for aerodynamic purposes. How much of this is actually functional?”

  “Not much, Commander. The landing gear is retractable and usable. The jet nacelles look real but are little more than electrically powered fans with heaters for appearance’s sake. The same for the ducted fans. Also, the external flight control surfaces move from the cockpit but are not required for flight.”