by Greg Chase
The suit fit far more perfectly than any garment he’d ever worn. Not one movement created a single wrinkle in the fabric. He’d have guessed it was a second skin if it hadn’t been for the flowing feel of the linen.
“Ed said you’d like it.”
Sam ran the silky fabric between his fingers. “How is it you were able to talk with Ed so much? I thought he was supposed to stay invisible.”
Jess lay back on the bed, watching the new clothes lift his spirits. “Oh, he did. Didn’t you notice everyone wears those little earbuds? They’re communication devices. All I had to do was wear one, and we’d pretend I was talking to someone else. It was all very clandestine. I felt like I was living out a spy novel.”
His attention wavered from her narrative as she got up and stripped out of her attire to slip into a floor-length dress that shimmered with her every curve.
“Like it?” Her smile made him consider ripping the sexy dress off her body. “I felt so horribly guilty buying it. But the more I bought, the less guilty I felt. Have to say, I feel downright forgiven at this point.” She reached for the items spread out on the bed. “Aren’t the girls just going to love these?”
Jess threw garment after garment up into the air for his inspection and approval. He had to admit, Sara and Emily were bound to be the hit of the village.
“Here, put this thing on.” Jess handed him a device as she snaked hers around her ear.
Jess was the only one he really wanted to talk to, but being able to communicate with Ed, Joshua, or Ellie could prove useful. As Sam attached the earbud, the wire that snaked up past his temple to look him in the eye made him think he was being watched. A light flashed, and a menu of options presented itself directly onto his eyeball. The whole room seemed to be filled with an interactive computer screen. His eye focused and darted, bringing up screens full of information. The novelty of the device was that he didn’t fully understand it the moment he put it on.
Joshua’s voice came over the earbud as a small video-screen image appeared in the lower left corner. Sam was instantly reminded of talking over the builder’s tube interface so many years ago.
The image of Joshua started explaining what Sam was seeing. “This is Rendition’s latest personal device. It really isn’t anything more than a miniature projection screen. Most of the functionality comes from a Tobe learning to read the wearer’s eye movements and bringing up the most logical data. It was Lud’s idea. Our first small introduction into human society.”
“Pretty cool, Josh, pretty dang cool.”
The screen filled with images of Joshua, Ellie, Ed, and even Jess. But instead of split screens, they all appeared to lounge around the apartment. Ellie and Joshua took the familiar positions on the couch. Ed stood next to the door, ever the protector. As Jess moved about the room, little indicator lights pointed at her clothes and body.
“The more people utilize this device, the more they’re talking through it—even if the person they’re talking to is right in front of them.” Joshua sounded like a computer salesperson.
Sam adjusted the wire so it didn’t interfere with his line of sight. “Why? I mean, if Jess is right in front of me, why would I want to see her as a projection?”
The image of Jess expanded to fill the screen. As she stood in front of him, in person and on screen, numerous indicators and magnifiers took up position around her image. Sam watched in confusion as information began displaying about pheromone levels, heartbeat, truth indicators, and outside links to further information. In Jess’s case, there wasn’t a whole lot of external source data, but Sam could envision that for most people the screens would be so full it’d be hard to see where he was going, either literally or figuratively.
Joshua continued his sales pitch. “Lud thought it’d be interesting to put this out in the marketplace, kind of an introduction to how we view life. The closer humans can come to seeing through our eyes, pardon the pun, the easier it will hopefully be for them to accept us.”
Jess turned to Sam. “Is this what it’s like for you with your link to the Tobes?”
Sam shook his head. “No. The information they present is more like memories with a mechanical aspect to them. The information is already in my head; I just need to be reminded it’s there. This data on you isn’t a memory, but it was in my mind even before I saw it. And I don’t hear their voices. Telepathy is a hard concept to explain.”
“Why wouldn’t they accept you, Josh?” Jess’s innocence still captivated Sam even on this far-off, foreign land of Earth.
Joshua smiled at the informal address. “From our study of human history, people fear what they don’t understand. And we’re still trying to figure out where we fit in.”
Sam looked at his wife without the added informational display. “It’s one of the things we’ll be working on. The Tobes want as smooth an acceptance as possible, but they struggle with how much information is too much when operating the device. And I’m in so far over my head I can’t find my way out of the wisteria.”
The inside joke evoked a laugh from Jess but no one else. Sam warmed, knowing there were things only they shared that no data mining from the Tobes could discover.
Two blocks into their walk, Sam pulled the device out from in front of his eye and attempted to rub out the information overload. Jess followed suit, giving him a look of concern he hadn’t seen in years. “You okay? You look like you’re about to break down. What is it—the girls, the Tobes, too much information?”
Sam’s eyes adjusted to seeing the people on the street as just people and not mountains of data. “Yes to all of it. I’m getting memory flashes of what it was like being linked with Lev. You remember that day Doc brought me back from making his delivery? You came flying at me like a meteor, nearly knocked me halfway out to the pod wall. Never saw it coming. I’d never been hugged so hard in all my life. All I kept thinking was how much I longed to get to know everything about you. I didn’t want to know it all, but I wanted to learn it all. I wanted to do the work of getting to know you. I wanted to savor every revelation.”
Jess looked down at her feet. “And you think these little devices are a cheat?”
Sam pulled the wiry bug off his head to examine it. “No, not that, really. I’m just not sure I want to know that the attractive young lady who just passed us spent the last hour having virtual sex with her boyfriend—or worse, witness it.”
Jess’s laugh held the familiar sound of home. “You only saw that ’cause you’re a pervert. In our village, you wouldn’t have even cared. You can take the man off Earth, but you can’t take Earth’s lust off the man. I found out that woman’s cute top came from a vintage clothing store and that you experienced a seventy-three-percent desire to see it on me.”
“And a ninety-nine-percent desire to see it off you.”
“Liar. You enjoy the process of taking my clothes off too much to want me to go around naked.” Again, her deep laugh told him he’d have been caught with or without the truth meter. “But I know what you mean. When you showed up in our tribe, I thought it was wonderful that we all knew each other so intimately. But you were magical. You didn’t know me; you asked questions and were totally absorbed in everything I had to say. You made me special. I’d never seen myself that way before.”
“How do we explain that to the Tobes? There’s a difference between finding out information on someone and having that person willingly share it.” Sam wondered what he’d gotten himself into.
“First, we need to understand them better. We can’t fix something we don’t even know is broken. Stop trying to change Earth on your first week back.”
Jess had a point.
The restaurant was an interesting hybrid of synth-food and dirt-food. Ellie came on-screen to explain how organic crops were making a comeback and restaurants like this were the new rage. And like a good waitress, once the information had been given, she disappeared into the ether. Sam struggled with the device. Turned on, the information was still
a bit overwhelming as he tried to separate reality from the technical embellishments. But leaving it off meant Jess ended up seeing things he wished he hadn’t missed.
His idle mental question of how long before everyone had just such a device was answered two months, three days so smoothly he feared the lack of a personal divide between self and information.
He’d never given much thought to food. Growing up, it was just something that got burnt on a regular basis. And on his own, it was whatever could be delivered the fastest. The natural meals Jess had prepared for the family on Chariklo were his fondest memories involving sustenance. But here in a fine New York establishment, he discovered it could be quite magical. How it tasted did not make the difference—honestly, one cut of meat pretty much tasted like any other as far as he was concerned. But seeing the joy in Jess’s eyes, the way they half closed as she chewed, the way she stretched her neck, her heaving breasts, it was like watching her have sex. He wanted to order every item off the menu just to see how she’d react.
Back out on the sidewalk, Jess continued her observations. “I thought the streets would be dirtier. Really, this is nice. Everything’s well maintained, the people all look well attired, and the screens confirm they’re anything but poor. Don’t know why I had such a dim view of life on Earth.”
“This is the nice part of the city,” Joshua said. “We’d hardly let you wander off down some side alley. But for the most part, yes, New York is one of the cleaner, prettier, and more affluent cities.”
Joshua appointed himself tour guide, Ellie was in charge of personal information and recommendations, and Ed remained the mostly silent bodyguard. Sam had the impression the two of them, walking hand in hand, were surrounded by an entourage of invisible helpers.
Ellie punctuated her reviews of each Broadway show with scenes she especially enjoyed. Sam ignored her history of the long-running theaters and their continued relevance, but Jess relished it.
They chose a play based as much on the beautifully restored theater as the plotline and reviews. Ellie relayed the history of the venue when people used to stand in block-long lines, waiting to enter. With the Tobes’ help, people could show up in staggered groups without the need to bunch together anymore. Sam and Jess sailed right through, taking only enough time to marvel at the ornate decorations. People congregated, discussing previous plays, greeting each other as theater friends who seldom spent time together except for the plays, and generally expressing excited anticipation.
The lights dimmed in the theatre as a voice sounded from the old wall speakers. “Please remove your earbuds and ocular devices. Our performers are enhancement free, and we ask that you be as well. Our play is meant to return you to a day when actors and audience enjoyed the bond of the live entertainment.”
Try as he might, Sam couldn’t find evidence of a single earbud reciting lines to the entertainers or any manner of technological trickery. Jess fell in love with the whole experience. He remembered the small musical group she’d formed in the agro pod and revived in the village. Hearing professionals for the first time brought tears to her eyes. He wished he could keep her there forever. They could live in a small apartment with the twins. Hell, with his money they could own half the city.
The opulence of what they could do sobered him quickly. To be part of such a society would be wonderful, to own it a degradation. The play continued as he reached out to hold Jess’s hand, knowing her attention was wrapped in the performance and not wandering recklessly down ill-advised pathways. Her touch helped him focus on the here and now.
As they joined the throng of people leaving the theater, a nicely appointed hovercraft pulled up directly in front. Ed’s voice carried both the concern of a well-intentioned bodyguard and the subtleness of someone trying to seduce the couple with the city’s charm. “We’d feel better if you let us drive you. We can walk you back to the apartment if you prefer, but you have been adapting to earth’s gravity. The ride will be much more comfortable, and if you’d like, we can take you on a little airborne tour of New York. Nice little nightcap and glide around the city lights to finish off the evening?”
Sam’s body melted into the luxurious seat. “I loved the theater experience, but did they have to include making the chairs so damn uncomfortable?”
Jess patted his hand as she too slumped into the seat that formed around her. “Be nice. I loved everything about that play. The restored theater, so many people all dressed so elegantly, the live performers you could practically reach out and touch—I just loved all of it.” Her eyes closed, reliving the memories.
“Fair enough. It was wonderful. But damn, these chairs are comfortable.”
Ed materialized in the front seat. “These vehicles are all automated, no driver required. But they maintain the front driver seat just in case any should develop a problem. There’s champagne in the cabinet in front of you. I’ll pop in if you need me, but otherwise, I’ll leave you to enjoy the ride.”
The champagne teased at Sam’s nose but relaxed his body. “Thank you, Ed.”
Jess removed the device from her eye and ear. “Look at all those lights. Every building must be lit up. I can’t even imagine the power required. And it’s like this for twelve hours?”
Sam looked out the large glass canopy of the hovercraft. “Pretty much. Night lasts longer in the winter, shorter in the summer.”
Jess gave him a quizzical look. “Right, I forget Earth doesn’t rely on solar arrays. So strange to just have the sun dumping all that energy on the planet.”
“If they’d only realized what they’d been throwing away for thousands of years.”
A sparkling light below the buildings caught his attention. In place of the roads he and Jess had wandered, this part of the city extended out into the harbor, every street flooded with water. “Ed, what’s with the streets?”
Their invisible companion rematerialized. “The environmental crises led to water levels that couldn’t be contained, at least not for most of the city. Some areas, like Broadway, have been dammed off so New York maintains its original feel. But most of the city is submerged up to the third floor.”
The light reflected in Jess’s eyes. “I think it’s lovely even if the reason for it isn’t.”
Sam held her close. Nothing was going to ruin her evening. Not even the potential destruction of Earth.
The hovercraft made a lazy circle about the city. Jess turned her head around the small space, taking it all in. Her hand held the device. “What’s that building, the big one?”
She could have put the device on, but Sam realized it was more about the communication than the information. He followed the direction of her delicate finger. Information flooded his memory. The challenge was to sieve out what would be interesting. “That’s the Empire State Building. It dates back to the 1930s, used to be the tallest building in the world for something like forty years. They remodeled it top to bottom fifty years ago. Practically took it back down to the girders and rivets.”
Exact numbers, dates, historical data, movies filmed there, all scrolled through his memory.
Jess smiled as Sam scrunched his eyes from the data. “I’m sorry. I guess asking questions is kind of a bad idea.”
Sam shook his head. “No, not a bad idea. I have to get used to this mountain of information. Better practicing with you than having my brain short-circuit in some board meeting.”
She leaned back against his chest, her head resting on his shoulder. “Ed, could we have some music? Something appropriate for New York?”
Without materializing, the bodyguard activated the sound system. Sam couldn’t make out any speakers. The music soothed them from all directions. None of the songs were ones he knew, at least not any he remembered from his previous life. Jess seemed content to sip her drink, marvel at the wonderful lights, and enjoy the ambiance.
As the bottle drained to the halfway mark, the hovercraft sat down gently on the tallest skyscraper in New York, the Rendition building.
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17
Sam had trouble seeing the office as his own. Even if he were running the company, what would be the point of so much room? But then, he was seldom alone. Jess enjoyed lounging out in the patio gardens, weather permitting, while Lud, Ellie, and Joshua helped him come to terms with his new reality.
Jess entered from the patio while ominous storm clouds rolled in, and the elevator doors burst open. Everything about the man who entered spoke of aristocracy: his tall, thin stature, the impeccably tailored suit that he wore with the ease of someone born to the attire and, most of all, the way he held his head, tilted just high enough that he peered down the regal ski slope of his nose.
Ellie and Joshua dropped their focus to their toes as Lud pushed off the desk to greet the intruder. “Jacques, I told you we’d meet later. Sam still needs some orientation before we tackle more problems.”
The way Jacques raised one side of his upper lip spoke volumes about the conflict that must have existed between the two men. “Can’t say I like what you’ve done to my office.”
“We agreed I’d give up my penthouse headquarters and you’d give up this space,” Lud said. “Sam is the founder and majority owner in Rendition. This matter was voted on by the board at your insistence.”
Sam breathed a little easier knowing Lud was on his side. Always pick the football linebacker over the privileged gentry in a brawl. But this wasn’t a conflict of Sam’s doing. He stood and extended a hand toward the gentleman. “I’m Sam Adamson, as I guess you already know. But I’m still at a loss as to Rendition’s corporate structure.”
“Jacques Saint Clare. If Lud is the voice of the Tobes for Rendition, you could consider me the advocate for the human race. He acts as CEO and I as President.” Jacques removed his hand from Sam’s after the briefest of handshakes. The way he rubbed his fingertips together left Sam wondering if Jacques was wishing for a handkerchief to wipe his hand clean.