by Jaxon Reed
The guard looked confused, but relaxed his stance and eased his hand off his sidearm as I continued with the lecture.
“In addition, the building has a small army of security bots hidden away, built on similar chassis as the load bots and garden bots we’re familiar with. Each security bot is armed with a ten millimeter semi-automatic rifle carrying three hundred rounds of ammunition, and is capable of fully autonomous defense of the building in the event assault protocols are activated.”
I waved at the guard. He waved back, hesitantly. We still wore the same clothes hastily put on during the dorm attack, our faces and shirts blackened from the bomb blast. A hint of smoke drifted off Jeremy’s hair. We each carried a duffel bag full of clothes. We looked ragged, and in desperate need of a shower.
“This is the private elevator to the penthouse suites. Quadruple on-site and off-site power backups and several redundant control loops. There are no stairs.”
I placed my palm on the scanner to the side.
Ding!
We filed into the elevator. The doors closed.
The computer said, “Marcus Savitch, suite two-thousand eight.”
The elevator started going up.
“Basically, this building was designed to withstand a student rebellion or any other armed assault. Like I said, since Dee Dee and I discovered I inherited a suite here from Professor Kalinowski, I’ve been doing some research.
“It’s not impregnable. Nothing really is. But, it’s certainly more attack-resistant than our dorm. I don’t think those guys tonight could have gotten in here as easily as they got into the dorm. In fact, I don’t think they would have gotten past the front door.”
The elevator reached the top floor, shifted direction horizontally to the right, slowed and stopped.
Ding!
We walked into Price Faculty Hall Suite 2008, home for the remainder of our time at New Texas A&M.
-+-
Jacob, Jeremy and I each smoked one of the oldest known cigars from Redwood. From the very first shipment the Professor sent, it had aged in the humidor for the last fifteen years. We sat on lounge chairs by the pool, looking out over the New Texas A&M campus. Jason swam laps. A glass wall surrounded the balcony, reminding me of the one on the rooftop of Redwood City. It was our first full day in the penthouse.
“This is the life,” Jacob said.
I nodded, but felt oddly glum.
“Guys, I don’t deserve this.”
“What do you mean? Of course you deserve this.”
“I didn’t earn any of this. Not the money, not this penthouse, not even these cigars.”
Jeremy took a big, contemplative puff, then set his cigar down in an ashtray.
“We don’t decide for ourselves whether we deserve an inheritance or not. The person giving the inheritance does. Lots of people get them, and lots of people give them. The Bible says a good person hands down an inheritance to their grandchildren.”
“Well, maybe that’s part of it. I’m not Kalinowski’s child or grandchild. I’m just somebody who spent some time out at an agricultural experiment station with him.”
“The Bible also says the Lord sends sunlight and rain on both good people and bad. So, enjoy your sunlight while it lasts. The Lord knows you’ve certainly had plenty of rain in your life.”
Jeremy’s points were hard to argue with, so I didn’t respond. We sat in silence for a while as Jason continued swimming laps.
“Any worries about snipers?” Jacob asked.
“Nah. One way glass. We can see out, nobody can see in. Plus, it’s bullet proof.”
“This has got to be one of the finest cigars ever,” Jeremy said.
“Should be,” Jacob said. “The last one I saw this old from Redwood sold for one thousand and twenty-one credits at auction.”
I coughed. “One thousand credits? Good grief! Y’all better smoke these down to the very end.”
Jeremy chuckled, reached over and flicked his cigar over the tray. A bit of ash spilled to the deck. The maid bot zipped over and swept up the mess. It hovered attentively nearby, waiting for another mess to occur. Its head resembled an astronaut’s helmet, only the visor in front was darkened, the helmet filled with circuitry. Its narrow cylindrical white torso had two human-like arms and hands attached. Four wheels at the bottom allowed movement in all directions.
“You know, that would be an ideal spying device. It likes to follow us around.”
“I’ll hack its system later,” Jason said, climbing out of the pool and reaching for a towel.
“I wonder how smart it is? Hey, maid bot!”
The bot’s head swiveled toward him.
“Bring me a beer.”
It rolled back inside to the kitchen. We heard it open the refrigerator. It returned with a bottle of beer, popped the top and placed the cap inside a trash bag strapped around its middle, then handed Jason the beer.
“I like her,” Jason said, taking a swig.
“That’s sexist.”
We all turned at the sound of Dee Dee’s voice.
“How’d she get in here?”
“I gave her entrance privs, just like the dorm room.”
Dee Dee sat down next to me in a lounge chair.
“Maid bot, please bring me one of those cigars.”
The contraption trundled off toward the walk-in humidor.
“If it’s sexist to call it ‘her,’” Jacob said with a smile, “maybe you shouldn’t call it ‘maid’ bot.”
Dee Dee smiled back.
“I’m taking this ‘Women in the History of Space Colonization’ class. I’ll have to ask my Professor if the term ‘maid bot’ is sexist. That should provide some interesting discussion.”
Jacob nodded.
“Ask it when the Professor starts talking about a pop quiz or something. I’ve run out the clock several times with a well placed question or two.”
The maid bot returned with a cigar, handed it to Dee Dee. She borrowed my lighter and began toasting the foot.
Jason walked inside for a bit, then returned with a hacker board and a vid sheet.
“Come here, maid bot.”
He went behind the machine’s back, and plugged in the hacker board.
“Just as I thought,” Jason said. “She’s a fainter.”
“What’s that mean?” I asked. “She faints?”
“No, FAINT. Free Autonomous Artificial Intelligence. I’ve been reading about this in my programming class. Basically, no signals can go in or out. The unit performs as expected, but nobody can tap in from a distant location to influence or observe. Very secure. It’s used in household bots, delivery bots and the like. A customer can order from a store, the delivery bot will bring the order, and nobody has to worry about privacy or theft issues. I bet the load bots we shot up on Redwood used the same system.”
He gathered up the hacker board and vid sheet, sat down on a lounge chair and smiled at us.
“Don’t look so proud of yourself,” Jacob said.
Dee Dee took a long puff on her cigar, then looked at me speculatively.
“So you guys are going to hide out here in the lap of luxury, and leave me back in the dorm?”
The four of us boys stared at one another in uncomfortable silence. This was one of the topics of discussion we’d avoided as we transferred all our clothes to the penthouse, ordered groceries, and claimed bedrooms.
Jeremy cleared his throat. “Well, it’s Marc’s place. It’s his call.”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” I said, puffing on my cigar. “There’s a ‘mother-in-law suite’ here. Separate quarters, separate bathroom. It would spare you the embarrassment of our manly ways, and I don’t think Professor Cruz or your mother would try and kill us once they find out about it.”
“I’ll take it.”
Chapter Four
Dee Dee and I stood to one side in a small alcove off the ballroom of the Memorial Student Center during the biggest party of the year, the Fall Footb
all Dance. We decided to attend it since this was our first year and it was part of the college experience. But another good reason to go: the University had banned the paparazzi. Invariably, some had sneaked in anyway, but they had to remain cool or risk being thrown out. So, we’d avoided most of their obnoxiousness all night.
They had a tendency to swarm public events, and whenever one of the “Heroes of Redwood” showed up they’d snap endless pictures, set the vid cams rolling and pester us for interviews. Very annoying. We’d gotten to where we tried to avoid most public events.
The orchestra played a lively song and couples moved around the floor. We’d danced through several slow songs. I’m not much of a dancer, but Dee Dee made up for it. At least I’m a fast learner, and hadn’t stepped on her toes too many times.
I wore a tuxedo, and Dee Dee wore a light blue gown that contrasted nicely with her pale skin and jet-black hair.
One good thing about having a reputation as a skilled killer, nobody tried to tap my shoulder and cut in. Once any potential dance partner realized who I was, they quickly backed away. We’d been pretty much left to our own devices.
A beautiful hostess came by with a tray of champagne flutes. Dark hair, almond skin and eyes. Tight silky white dress with a plunging neckline.
“Champagne?”
“Sure.”
I took a flute. When she left, Dee Dee punched me in the chest.
“What’d I do?”
She crossed her arms and turned her back to me.
About that time, we heard a commotion from a nearby hallway. Running footsteps. Girls screaming in delight. Jason ran into our alcove, stood flat behind a marble pillar as a horde of girls ran by in the hall.
When they were gone, he smiled at us, running a hand through his dirty blonde hair.
“I think I gave them the slip. Is that champagne?”
He took the flute from my hand and drained it.
“Ah, good stuff. Now, find me a girl to dance with who’s not crazy.”
At that moment, Stevens walked around the corner and into our alcove, digging through her purse. She looked up and recognized us. I almost didn’t recognize her. Her hair was down, her face made up, and she looked great in a form-fitting red ball gown.
“Marcus! How are you? Are my patches holding up? Hi, you must be Diane Fremont. I’m Charlotte Stevens. Call me Charlie.”
She shook Dee Dee’s hand warmly, turned and saw Jason staring wide-eyed at her.
“Oh! You’re one of the O’Donnell triplets, right? Charlie Stevens.”
“I’m Jason.”
She shook his hand.
“You were in the Battle of Redwood, too, right? Where did you get shot?”
A look of annoyance crossed Jason’s face. This had been a sore point. Both his brothers were shot in the battle, and had the scars to show for it. That had proven to be quite advantageous with the girls. Their scars were easy to show off, too, on the arm and leg.
I decided to throw Jason a bone.
“He’s the only one of the three smart enough not to get shot.”
Jason’s face cleared as he warmed up to the idea.
“Yeah. That’s right. My stupid brothers were the ones who went and got themselves shot. Not me.”
Charlie smiled and turned back toward us.
“Diane, do you mind if I look at the patches on his side? I want to see how they’re holding up.”
“Be my guest. There’s no sign of them now, though.”
I didn’t think about it at the time, but I realized later she’d just asked permission from Dee Dee to look at me.
I took off my tux jacket and cummerbund, then pulled up my shirt to let her see my side. She bent down and examined it closely.
“Amazing. No scar tissue or anything.”
She stood back up. “Do you guys mind if I joined your medical research team?”
Dee Dee and I looked at each other. She shrugged.
I said, “Sure, if you can get on it.”
“Oh, I think I can. You’d be surprised how much clout I got out of being the one who treated you the other day.”
By this time Jason, who normally wasn’t very shy anyway, had steeled up his nerve.
“Hey, Charlie. You wanna dance?”
“Sure!”
-+-
Dee Dee and I walked over to the Health Science Center the next morning for our weekly examinations. Upon our arrival at New Texas A&M, we’d created something of a sensation with the medical staff. An exo-biological agent infecting a human with our results, rather than simply killing us offhand like a typical disease, had simply not been seen before.
Behind the scenes, we found out later, there’d been considerable drama as to who would lead the research on us during our time at A&M. Arguments had erupted, feelings were hurt. Finally, a committee in the Faculty Senate formed to decide who should be on the team along with the procedures for submitting their findings.
One Physician, Hisako Kumai, was appointed as the team leader. She seemed to be a no-nonsense type. Short, thin, and old with streaks of grey through her short dark hair.
We lay on our backs on separate examination tables. Charlie entered the room, and took a position alongside Physician Kumai.
Charlie grinned from ear to ear, obviously overjoyed to be there. I thought about it, and couldn’t remember another student being present in any of our past sessions with Physician Kumai, only other Physicians. I guess it really was a big deal for her to be there.
“You should have come to see us immediately after the shooting.”
No evidence of anger or hurt feelings seeped into Physician Kumai’s voice. She seemed to always remain calm and professional, no matter the circumstances. Must be medical training, I thought. Physician Patel had been much the same way, back on Redwood. Even during the battle when people were getting shot.
I shrugged. “You wouldn’t have seen anything but cells regenerating.”
“But we haven’t seen that before, Mr. Savitch. You should have come in.”
“Maybe I’ll let y’all shoot me here in the HSC sometime. Then you can observe it on the spot.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. The IRB would never allow such a thing.”
I’d heard of the Internal Review Board before. Dee Dee’s father, Professor Cruz, mentioned that he’d be following their guidelines while examining me back in the Ranger station on Redwood. Evidently, there were strict rules to be followed when experimenting on humans. Everyone seemed to take them seriously, too.
“Let’s do a thorough scan. I want to see if anything has changed in you since the last time.”
She directed Charlie over to Dee Dee’s table while adjusting the controls on mine. An overhead beam swept over my body head to toe, toe to head. A hologram of me appeared next to my table, floating in the air, on its back like me. I watched as Kumai made some adjustments. My hologram self turned transparent, showing the organs. She made more adjustments and looked at molecular structures, blowing up the areas where I’d been shot on a nearby vid screen. She overlayed the pictures with other data from previous scans, mumbling a few words to the computer as she compared my current body scan with previous ones.
“There’s no change to speak of. Any organs that were damaged have been completely repaired to their pre-existing state.”
After fussing over the data several more minutes, she said, “You’re free to go. I’ll see you here next week.”
She went back to the vid screen and started dictating notes to the computer.
Told you, I thought to myself. I looked over at Dee Dee and Charlie. They were whispering to one another, completely oblivious to their surroundings.
I stood up and walked over to Dee Dee’s examination table. They stopped abruptly as I came near, both of them looking at me.
I smiled. “Sorry to interrupt.”
“That’s okay. Charlie is coming over this afternoon before the game.”
“Okay.”
And j
ust like that, Dee Dee and Charlie were best friends.
-+-
The triplets acted like idiots.
That afternoon after Charlie showed up, we lounged by the pool sipping cold drinks before heading to the game. Jason showed off his aquatic prowess, diving in and quickly swimming laps back and forth. Jeremy and Jacob got into a loud fight and started punching one another. Altogether they acted like male birds strutting around flashing their feathers, trying to grab the attention of a female. Which, I suppose, pretty much summed it up.
Charlie was happy to be there. She’d oo’d and ah’d over the penthouse. I gave her a tour and she stopped to admire each richly-furnished room, the library, kitchen and balcony. Dee Dee took her to the mother-in-law suite where they stayed and talked in private for half an hour or so.
The triplets came home, and acted normal while we lounged out on the balcony, until Dee Dee and Charlie re-emerged. That’s when they started acting up.
I noticed an odd dichotomy. Here were three guys that girls all over the planet swooned for. Their faces graced the covers of every teen vid mag on New Texas. Yet, when a group of girls started chasing them, they’d run away.
On the other hand, here was a young woman who seemed nice, polite, and rational. She didn’t go crazy over them, just accepted things as they were and maintained the conversation. She remained cool and didn’t throw herself at them. Consequently, they bent over backwards trying to impress her.
The outdoor vid screen by the pool came to life.
“Incoming call.”
President Montoya appeared on the screen.
“Marcus? I’d like to invite y’all to the Presidential Suite at the stadium for the game tonight. You, Diane, and the O’Donnells.”
“Is it okay if we bring one more, sir?” I nodded toward Charlie.
“Sure, bring her along. There’s plenty of room. And don’t eat beforehand, there will be lots of food.”
-+-
I figured out later one of the reasons President Montoya invited us to his suite for the game was for security reasons. Security had been ratcheted up ahead of the game in light of the recent terror attacks. We had to go through two body scanners and a flank of armed University Police before finally getting to the suites elevator at Chang Field. Even then, the elevator wouldn’t start until we’d each placed our hands on the palm reader and its computer decided we were allowed access to the higher levels.