To Dream

by Lowy, Louis K;

“That’s not a sufficient answer. They could be quacks for all I know. Who are they?”

  Panther knew the question was coming. He couldn’t tell them about Niyati, so he had prepared an alternative reply. “Do you really think I’m going to name names so you can steal them away from me? With all due respect, Mr. Takáts, the results speak on the proficiency of my team.” Panther stood. “If Ameri-Inc. isn’t prepared to negotiate a deal, I’m sure I can find someone who is.”

  Malalani whispered in Hebert Takáts’ ear. He glanced at her and said, “You seem to forget that without my GTS you’ve got shit.”

  Panther crossed his arms and raised his chin above the confidence level to the arrogance height. “So do you, without my information.”

  Takáts leaned forward. “It’s only a matter of time before we discover for ourselves the key to how the mineral works, and furthermore, on a more personal scale, what would be your prognosis if you no longer had access to my GTS?”

  Panther laughed haughtily. “I’ll take my chances.” He cursed himself because his reaction was too forced, but the fear of returning to his cancer-ridden former self nearly made him throw up. He saw Malalani smile and knew that she had read his miscued reaction. It was time to take a different approach. “We’re here because we both want to do the correct thing for mankind.” Panther retook his seat. “I’m willing to talk.”

  Hebert Takáts’ eyes flickered up at Malalani. She gave him a nearly imperceptible nod and targeted her gaze on Panther. Takáts said to Panther, “Let’s talk…for humankind’s sake.”

  ~~~

  In the end it came down to a complex set of agreements finalized by teams of lawyers: Panther’s Corporation, Semi-Tribe, was to be granted principle ownership of a new subdivision of Ameri-Inc.’s research wing. It was to be built on Seminole land and to be named “Panther Research.” It was to be granted a stipend and an annual percentage of GTS for testing and development. All products, including the cancer remedy originated through Panther Research, were to be marketed, sold, and distributed by Ameri-Inc. In return, Panther Research was to receive a small, but not unreasonable portion of the profits. Small, in a global sense, meant a vast amount of money.

  What Hebert Takáts and his lawyers were unaware of was Niyati Bopari’s existence and that in exchange for her continued work, she was to be Dan Panther’s silent partner in Panther Research.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Date: 2052

  Everglades, Florida

  Suwanee Gopher residence

  Niyati glanced around her living room as if she had awoken from a bad dream. It had been eight months since Panther’s meeting with Ameri-Inc. and now she was moving house. A soiled mannequin stood in the corner, near the sewing machine. Unfinished alterations were scattered across the sofa and coffee table. A spindly arachnid crept along a web in an upper corner of the wall. The terrazzo floor was filthy. Dirty ashtrays were everywhere and the room reeked of tobacco smoke. “How could I have allowed myself to live like this?” she wondered aloud.

  “It happens, Doc,” Lulu answered, thinking Niyati had spoken to her. “You sure you don’t want to make a double check before we go?” Lulu grabbed the packed travel bag resting beside Niyati’s feet.

  “Positive.” Other than the few clothes, her computers and touchpad that they’d already carried out, there wasn’t anything else worth taking.

  “Have you seen your new digs since the floor tiles and blinds were installed?”

  Niyati shook her head. Now that Panther Research was nearly ready, Panther had offered his guesthouse as a permanent residence to his new partner, and truth be told, it didn’t take much for her to accept.

  “It’s Michael Jackson!” Lulu replied.

  Niyati raised a brow. “It’s what?”

  “Michael Jackson. You know, uh, amazing. The lake view is killer, too, but of course you already know that.”

  One of the reasons she had accepted Panther’s offer was that he lived in a gated compound and the guesthouse, located by the water, was far enough from the main residence that she wouldn’t be intruded upon. She liked seclusion. The guesthouse was a well-designed, modern residence and she was tired of living in squalor. Furthermore, Lulu was indeed correct, the view was to die for. As a bonus, the residence came with Panther’s F-150 stretch pick-up and Lulu’s chauffeuring services. Since his recovery and deal with Hebert Takáts, Panther drove solo in his new Tesla XU.

  “Have you thought about coloring your hair?” Lulu said as they left the house. “My cousin’s a great stylist and she makes house calls.”

  Niyati thought Lulu was being snarky until the chauffeur added with a tone of sincerity, “I mean it, Doc. You’ve got potential. Since you tossed the smokes and put on some weight, you look ten years younger.”

  Niyati was pleased. This was the first visual confirmation from an objective observer of what the blood tests and imaging results had already indicated, that the GTS treatment was working. Because their cancers were different, hers was a modified version of Panther’s vaccine, but so far the results not only matched his, but also appeared to surpass them.

  “Thank you,” Niyati said, “but I prefer my gray hair.” When she looked in the mirror she wanted to remember all she had been through: the heartbreak of losing Jay, her divorce, the joy she felt when J-1’s eyes opened, and the all-too-brief warmth she felt with Miguel Acevedo. She also wanted to remember the explosion that tore those things away from her. No, she wasn’t going to rinse away the past. She was going to remember it as it was.

  Lulu shrugged. “To each his own, but you’d look Michael Jackson as a brunette.” She tossed the travel bag in the pick-up’s bed and opened the passenger door. Niyati glanced one final time at Suwanee Gopher’s residence. She bade it, and Suwanee, farewell.

  Chapter Thirty

  Date: 2250

  Planet Truatta

  Interior of Mount Kwieetus

  They hiked upward through the dark, crystal-rich cavern. Norma led. Teague was a step behind holding a torch. Orson, Prudence and Hob followed and J-1 trailed along at the edge of the torch’s glow. Coco glided beside him.

  It was a dreary ascension disturbed only by the steady plunk of dripping water and twice by deep and distant flapping noises. The flapping sounds caused Norma and the others to freeze until they died out. Eventually, the cavern came to a dead end. Teague placed his torch in a crude sconce carved in the stony wall.

  If this is Pocketsville, J-1 thought, it’s a miserable place to live.

  Norma ran her fingers around the area below the sconce. She pushed two small protrusions. Next to the torch a door swung outward. Dull sunlight flickered into the cavern. On the outside were dead hedges whose leafless branches rattled from the heavy, chill wind. Norma disappeared into the boney outer brush. Except for Teague, the others followed.

  Teague waited for J-1 and Coco to exit. Then he pressed the same protrusions Norma had pushed and darted outside. The door closed behind him. Teague clapped J-1 on the back. “Follow me. The fun part is about to begin.” He guided them through the dead shrubbery. They emerged onto a narrow path where the others were waiting. The path wound upward along the mountain’s exterior.

  It was an iron day; gray, cold, and unbending. They were several thousand feet above the ground, but J-1 could see that they were barely a third of the way to the cloud-encircled top; if that was their destination. Norma resumed her position at the lead. Orson, Hob and Prudence followed behind. Teague, J-1 and Coco were six or seven paces behind them.

  They trekked through the miserable windy weather for several hours. Occasionally, Orson stole a hateful gaze at J-1. The Humachine felt the burn of it as surely as if it had come from a flame. Even with that, the journey wasn’t as unpleasant as J-1 imagined it would be because of Teague’s desire to converse.

  When J-1 asked him where they were headed. Teague glanced at Orson and answered loud enough over the wind for J-1 to hear, but not loud enough to carry his voice any far
ther. “You see that small crevice tucked just below the clouds, my friend? That leads to Pocketsville. We had to hole up there some time ago, after we sold Ameri-Inc. the rights to our mineral deposits. Boy, were we dumb, huh?” Teague rubbed his arms to keep himself warm.

  “Most people blame Norma and she paid a devastating price for her decision, but I’m not afraid to admit that we got ourselves into this unholy mess because of our own greed.” He glanced at J-1 and shrugged. “I suppose if Mata hadn’t come along we would be in an even deeper well. Then again, she’s as howling mad as a padoc.”

  A near-hurricane gust roared through. The group splayed themselves against the mountainside, waited for it to pass, and then moved on.

  “I don’t know what’s worse, going through this misery or being taken in by the Earthers as slave labor for the mines,” Teague muttered, brushing off snow.

  “Slave labor? How can that be? GTS mining is done with DiggerBots and Tractrons. I know this because I was in charge of operations.” J-1 spoke the words without analyzing whether it would have been better to remain silent. He realized with apprehension that speaking without forethought was something that had never occurred before he had toyed with the GTS.

  Orson yelled, “How long’re you gonna hang with that machine, Teague? Aren’t we good enough for you?”

  J-1 cringed. He had spoken too loud.

  Ignoring Orson, Teague said quietly, but harshly, “Robot, don’t play dumb. You know exactly what’s going on with my people.”

  “That thing killed my Matilda,” Orson shouted. “Or did you forget that, Teague?”

  “Orson,” Norma said without looking back. “It wasn’t the automaton.”

  “That mechanical murderer’s going in the smelter. Count on it.” Orson muttered, “Robot lover,” to Prudence and Hob, but everyone knew it was aimed at Norma and Teague.

  Teague eyed Orson as if he were waiting for Orson to say more. He didn’t. Teague turned back to J-1. “I told you more than I should have. I would expect a little truth in return.” Teague started to step away. “I’m trying to be your friend, but you’re making it awfully hard.”

  “Wait.” J-1 gripped Teague’s arm. “I don’t know what the truth is anymore. For someone like me who lives on data and analysis…that’s hell.” J-1 felt fire in his cheeks.

  Teague’s eyes widened. “Mother Earther, they even made you so you can blush? That’s unbelievable.”

  J-1 cleared his throat, and said, “The reason that I question slave labor is because the robotech files uploaded in me prior to my taking over the warehouse say that all mining is done mechanically. I can assure you the data is legitimate.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because they had to have been approved by Ameri-inc. and government regulatory committees.”

  Teague laughed. “You’re supposed to be intelligent. Listen to how stupid that sounds.”

  Orson stopped walking. He held his hand in front of Hob and Prudence to do the same. “Do you hear that?” he said loud enough for all to hear. “The robot and the traitor are having a laugh together.”

  When Orson said traitor, Hob raised an eyebrow at Prudence. Both stared at the ground.

  “Stay here,” Teague said to J-1. He approached Orson.

  Norma turned to Orson. “I’ve given you legroom here, because I know how much Matilda meant to you and to all of us. But you’ve run out of space.” She reached for her electro-rod.

  J-1 winced. Whatever was going to happen, he felt as if he were responsible for it.

  “You’re real brave against a weaponless man,” Orson said to Norma.

  She tossed the rod on the ground and beckoned him with her hands. “Come on, then.”

  He stepped toward her.

  Teague moved between them. “This is my fight, Norma.” He turned to Orson. “No one calls me a traitor.”

  “If I’m not mistaken, I just did.” Orson coldcocked Teague in the right eye. He crumpled to his knees. Orson shoved Norma on top of Teague, grabbed her electro-rod and bolted toward J-1. Orson turned the weapon’s knob and aimed the tip at J-1’s chest. A crimson bolt crackled forward. J-1 spun on his good foot to avoid the beam. The ray singed his side. Orson shoved the rod against J-1’s cheek and fired. There was a sizzle. J-1 screamed. A sweet, cherry odor came from his searing polyflesh.

  He staggered backward, but the ray burrowed deeper. His eyes, gums, and nostrils felt as if they were stuffed with roaches dancing a mad jig beneath the surface of his face. He was going to vomit. As stupid as it seemed, a question rang in his temples: If I don’t eat what would I toss up? Just as he finished the thought, Orson and the deadly ray toppled. When J-1’s vision cleared he saw Teague and Orson wrestling on the rocky ground, fighting for control of the electro-rod.

  Norma, Prudence and Hob were gathered around the two men. Hob took a step toward them, but Norma shoved him back.

  Orson punched Teague in the kidney. Teague moaned and struck back with a blow to Orson’s neck. Orson gagged. Teague wrenched the weapon from Orson and tossed it aside. He pummeled Orson in the face until he passed out. Teague rose, gasped, and fell to a knee. His right eye was closing up.

  Norma knelt beside him. “Are you okay?” Teague lifted a hand to indicate he was. She stood and kicked Orson lightly. He remained motionless. She turned him on his belly and removed a pair of forearm-length vines from a pouch on her holster belt. She drew Orson’s hands behind his back and laid one of the vines across his wrists. The vine tied itself tightly around them. She laid the other one across his neck. The vine wrapped itself taut, but not tight, around his flesh. The vine stretched and connected itself to the wrist cuffs. Norma helped Teague up. She gently pressed her finger below his swelling eye. “You’re gonna have an Earth of a shiner, but I suppose you’ll live.”

  Teague turned his back to Hob and Prudence. He pressed her fingers to his lips and kissed them. Norma whipped her hand back, but J-1, who faced the pair, caught a quick smile flash across her face.

  They had shielded their actions on purpose, J-1 thought. Maybe they’re married to other people. Or maybe it had something to do with what Teague had said earlier, that Norma had made a hideous error, maybe…J-1 wobbled. He was dizzy, no, nauseated. He hobbled to the side of the mountain and rested against it. The world went from gray to darker gray…

  ~~~

  “You look awful, automaton,” Norma said. She and the others were staring at him.

  He examined his arms. Had Orson’s electro-rod blast done lingering damage? His skin was clammy and dappled with red splotches. He swiped the back of his hand across his nostrils. Bio-core fluid dripped from them. Norma handed him a rag from her pants pocket. He pressed the cloth to his nose. She felt his forehead. “You’re burning up.”

  “Are you able to continue?” Teague asked.

  “Of course.” He smiled, but his vision was blurry around the edges. He could feel them eyeing each other, as if they were contemplating leaving him. “I’ll ride Coco the rest of the way. I’m fine.” His voice seemed distant. His processors were no longer the controlling force of his being. He tried to hop on the salvaged parts that Coco was toting on her tray, but faltered. He hadn’t the power.

  Hob and Prudence raised their brows at Norma. Teague kept his eyes locked on J-1. Norma studied the crevice near the top of the mountain where Teague had said Pocketsville was located. She breathed deeply and said, “We’ve got a long way to go, automaton. As much as I want Mata to see you, if you’re gonna prevent us from getting to her before the weather picks up and kills us…”

  J-1 thought about this Mata. If Teague was right about her being some sort of savior, maybe she could remove the GTS from his system and return him to…to what? A mechanical system of calculations, comparisons and anatomizations? Is this what I really want? As much as emotions scared him, he also knew that they made him something more than he had been. The question is, was it something for the better or for the worse? J-1 gathered his last oun
ce of physical strength and willed himself to push past Norma and Teague. He shoved aside the robot parts Coco carried and hobbled onto her tray. He smiled. “See? I told you everything’s fine.” Whatever that something was, he wanted to find it and maybe Mata could help him do that.

  “When we get to Pocketsville we can send a crew back for the parts,” Teague said. Norma looked at Hob and Prudence.

  “Leave him here,” Prudence said. “He’s trouble.” Hob nodded.

  Norma rubbed her upper lip in contemplation and returned her gaze to J-1. He widened his smile, but his head felt like it was ablaze. Finally, Norma said, “The automaton continues with us.”

  Teague winked at J-1.

  Norma kicked Orson hard in the hips. He opened his eyes and muttered something incomprehensible. “Get him to his feet,” she commanded Hob and Prudence. They obliged. Orson charged J-1. The vine wrapped around Orson’s neck constricted without mercy. Orson gagged and stopped. The vine loosened. “I’ll get you,” he said in a raspy voice to J-1. “You, too, Norma.”

  “Right,” Norma scoffed. “Let’s move it,” she said. “If we don’t make Karatsu Pass before nightfall, we’re dead meat.”

  J-1 passed out.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Date: 2090

  Everglades, Florida

  Panther compound

  Niyati moaned, rolled in her sleep and dreamed of her son, Jay, as a toddler. He was in a highchair hiding his mouth with his hands. Niyati put a baby spoon of pureed peas she was holding to her mouth and pretended to taste it. “Yummy, yum. It’s good, Jay!”

  Jay shook his head and giggled. “No!”

  “Okay, then, I’m going to feed it to Taj. Here, Taj, come and get it. Yummy, yum!”

  A dachshund dashed from the small living room to the kitchen. Jay giggled. He lowered his hands and smacked opened his lips.

  Laughing, Niyati waved aside the lock of hair that had fallen beneath his left brow and spooned the peas into his mouth.