Achi knows what he has to do. Pulling from her memories, he connects with Clive via phone. “Clive, this is Rolle. Please establish a link with the following communication satellite transponder, using the specifics I'm faxing now.” Rolle sends him the details. “Contact me at this number to patch me through when connected.” Clive acknowledges.
“It'll take him a few minutes,” he shares. She looks at him and raises one of her delicate eyebrows. Of course, she knows. He sighs. “You could at least pretend we're having a meaningful conversation.” That gets a small laugh out of her. He knows that she was tempted to call Clive and set up the link herself but didn't want to freak him out just yet.
It takes Clive about 15 minutes to establish the link before he calls back. “You realize that transponder doesn't officially exist, right?”
“Frankly, I don't think the company knows they're hosting the payload, if you get my meaning.” Rolle shares with him. “Please patch me through.”
Clive laughs, “Patching you through.”
Zaleria shifts in her seat away from the window and peers over at Rolle, a very serious look on her face. He knows what she is thinking, and what she is concerned about. “I trust you, share what you feel is appropriate, and we'll just deal with the consequences.”
She nods, of course she knows that is how he feels, but she still needed to hear him say it. “Beltare? Zargus? Trègar? This is Zaleria.”
It is Zargus who answers. “Zaleria?! It is good to hear from you. We haven't been able to locate you since the explosion. All we found were small fragments, once we could gain access. What happened? What is your status? Why are you using this mode of communication?”
She responds, “It's a long story. My corporeal unit was nearly destroyed in the explosion, and I've just now been able to gain enough functionality to make contact. My comms will be fully restored in another 35 hours. I am traveling by human conveyance to the following coordinates…” She sends them the geocoordinates for Rolle's enclave. “I am with Rolle Andersson; he… knows who I am. He is aware of much we thought hidden, and it is clear we share a common foe. They are getting far more aggressive. I don't think it is safe to share too much via this link, but I will contact you with more details when my comms are restored.” She terminates the contact.
He looks at her; she is very tense. He knows that she feels contaminated. That if she shares all she has learned, it will potentially damage the collective. Keeping it inside her is also causing her significant stress, and she knows she didn't hide that from Zargus. It is not in her nature to hold information back from the collective, but this is very personal. She sighs and looks at him. He looks away but understands the futility of the gesture. He can't help but invade her privacy, know everything she is feeling, especially when it is this acute. And she knows that, too.
“Zaleria, I appreciate how awkward this is. I know you know that, but I think it is good you hear me acknowledge it. You feel isolated from your people, but you are not alone. I will do what I can to help you figure this out and deal with it, for what that is worth.”
She knows he is right, and she appreciates the gesture. It does help to hear him share it. “Thank you,” is all she shares. But it speaks volumes, and he sees her visibly relax a little. She turns back to the window. She enjoys taking in the view; she has always loved looking at the Earth from above. But flying in a human aircraft is still relatively new to her. She enjoys the “feeling” of flight, how the aircraft is jostled by the very movement of the air.
The plane circles the small, dogleg valley that he calls home. His main house is built up a narrow, enclosed valley, for which his property extends over the surrounding ridge lines. The only way to enter is up the open end, where a private road follows a small stream. His security perimeter extends beyond the ridges, and the dogleg in the valley prevents line of sight from the main road. He has overlapping security sensors along the entire perimeter. Nothing crosses it without his knowing. Usually, it is just deer and elk moving around. It reminds him a lot of areas he used to hunt. The airstrip is in the open flats, where the pilot brings the aircraft down and then taxis straight into a hanger. Clive is there to meet them.
He lets out a small gasp when he sees Zaleria back out of the airplane, and it probably has little to do with the fit of her shorts, which are not as complimentary to her form as they could be, Rolle muses. They are his shorts after all, and she is not shaped the same, especially given the height delta and the basic differences in female anatomy. Clive clears his throat, “You look much better than the last time I saw you, Miss. Welcome to Elk's Grove Estate.”
She responds, “Thank you, Clive. I'm looking forward to the visit.” Rolle escorts her to the waiting car. Clive gets into the driver’s seat.
Once the doors are closed, he says, “I'm sorry for what happened, Ms. Lui. We didn't anticipate that kind of attack.”
She leans forward. “When we are alone, please call me Zaleria. Thank you for pulling my ass out of there. It was about the only thing still in one piece.” She smiles warmly at Clive, who blushes a little. Rolle stifles a laugh. Then she gets serious, “I know you took a big leap of faith that day. Thanks. I'll make sure we don't let you down.”
“Thank you, Miss… Zaleria. I appreciate the sentiment. But for now, sit back and enjoy the tour. We can talk about other matters after we get to the mansion and get you two cleaned up and fed.” Clive takes them up the road, shows Zaleria the small agricultural research station they maintain, then swings by the combined wind, solar, and hydro station that powers the facility. Clive explains, “It'd be cheaper to buy electricity from the local utility by a significant amount, but this ensures we are self-sufficient. As much as the boss likes to dabble in telecommunications, we are separate from any external grid. Our most advanced computing systems are completely stand-alone. We have just a few servers connected via one fiber to the rest of the world. This is to minimize physical accesses for security purposes. Although we can also claim it’s to reduce our carbon footprint.”
Rolle laughs, “I was born at the end of the last ice-age and have seen climate change my entire life. Frankly, I prefer warmer climate cycles. But some things never change. Man is always convinced they are at the center of the universe. 'If the climate is changing, we must be causing it.' Time will tell. Man's inhumanity to man is still my biggest concern.” They grow quiet.
Clive continues the tour, taking them up to the end of the valley. “Rolle installed a lookout tower at the top of the ridge, which is where the road ends. It provides a spectacular view in all directions but can be very windy.”
Rolle gets out with Zaleria, and they climb to the top. “What do you think?”
She looks at him and twists her lips, then stops herself. “I know, I'd make a poor poker player. Well, it wouldn't be much of a game between the two of us right now, would it?” She pauses to collect her thoughts. “You know how I'm feeling. I'm not in the best of moods, but I'm working on it. You're right, though, I do enjoy the view from up here.” She smiles at him, “Don't let me worry you. Yes, you've had much more experience with this kind of thing. I've not had to deal with adversity on too many occasions, one of the benefits of living in an advanced society. Having your memories, though, isn't the same as internalizing the lessons.”
He is still worried, though. “You want to talk about it?”
She glares at him, “Trying to use my mother's methods on me? My memories against me?! She's over 250,000 years old. I'm not sure you're up to it!” She stops herself, takes a deep breath and turns away from him. “Okay, I think I'm getting to the angry phase. I guess that is progress.” She sighs. “I would love to talk with you about it, but let's do it later. Let me take a hot shower, eat that fantastic meal you are busily planning, and maybe have a bottle of your custom blended Bordeaux. The 10-year-old stuff, with the 7 percent Petit Verdot.” She looks at him, “What, did you think I'd be a cheap date?” she asks while raising her left eyebrow again.
He smiles, �
��Humor and one of my best wines. You have good taste, but you forgot the dark chocolate mousse. What, you haven't had that yet? Well, we'll have to see what we can do about that.”
∞∞∞
She has to admit, he was right about the chocolate mousse. It was one of the most amazing things she has eaten on this planet, although he paired it with a port wine after they polished off the Bordeaux during dinner. What a meal—he'd ensured dinner was a compilation of her favorite Earth foods, crafted into unique combinations with aromatic spices that where truly wonderful. While she knew what was going to be served, she had no way to really know how it would taste, which led to her anticipating each course as it came out. It made for a very enjoyable evening and helped her realize many novel experiences still await her despite her inadvertent linkage with Rolle—and his inherited memories. And that, more than anything, helped her relax for the first time in a long while.
“Thank you, Achi. I really mean it; this is just what the doctor ordered.”
He refrains from saying that he knows, and simply replies, “You're welcome.”
They sit for a very long time just enjoying the moment, the wine, and the several trips back for more mousse (for Zaleria). Eventually, she just sighs, leans back in her chair, and stretches out to her full height, violet eyes half lidded. “There is so much beauty in this world if you just know where to look.” She shares in a relaxed rambling sort of way. “Humanity has so much potential. I was picked to help bring it to fruition. I don't want to fail…” She stops herself, realizing how self-centered that sounded. “It's not about me, it’s about you. Humans. I don't want you to fail.” She opens her eyes and looks over at him. “I don't want you to fail.”
He thinks the symbiots have been true to their word. They are both feeling a little tipsy. And adding yet another complication in their relationship is their growing awkward feeling of attraction. They both feel it in the other, and both wonder if it is only because of their forced shared memories and experiences. It is unlikely any two people have ever known each other as thoroughly as they do. But neither wants to face these feelings or talk about it, at least until much more time has gone by and they are sure this isn't some weird side-effect. They're too mature to act like giddy youth, and far too old to allow simple feelings to dictate their actions. Still, at least they don't hate each other, and that is far, far better than he expected.
She looks at him, reading his thoughts and feelings, and says it’s time to turn in for the night. He escorts her to one of the guest rooms, makes sure she doesn't need anything, and heads to his room. It's at the opposite end of his massive estate, which gets them outside of local range. For the first time since she awoke, their thoughts are their own.
∞∞∞
The morning dawns bright and sunny. It is nearing summer after a mild spring, and the weather beckons them outside. However, they need to sit down with Clive and get an update. Achi and Zaleria meet at the top of the stairs prior to heading down for breakfast, giving their symbiots the chance to catch up. He learns she did not sleep particularly well, despite the wine and mousse. She was unable to sync back up with her essence because her comms are still not functioning, and that made her very restless—a significant break in her routine. Further, their separation gave her time to really reflect on all that has happened to her. She is still overwhelmed and feels a bit silly for reacting the way she did last night. She apparently spent a great deal of time trying to figure out how she really feels about Achi and remains conflicted. Who he is today is so different than who he was. She doesn't know who he might become if he remains inoculated with her symbiots and doesn't know what should be done about that. He is a very real problem for the galanen—one she is responsible for creating.
Achi, however, slept very well, at peace with the universe for the first time since before he changed. At least he now knows the truth and feels there is a real chance he can gain help in eliminating those forces trying to derail humanity's development. Something he knows Zaleria doesn't disagree with.
After breakfast, they meet Clive in the secure conference room and find out what he's learned. “Our adversary is getting desperate and making mistakes. We've been able to trace several of the people they used in this latest attack, their financing, as well as the bomber. Turns out he'd been arrested before, and we matched him through his DNA. There wasn't much else to work with. We've also got corroborating analysis of the explosive residue. The bad guys are definitely located in the Middle East… And we're beginning to narrow down likely culprits. Oh, and there is one other item. The woman that Jessie, I mean Zaleria, stunned with her pistol in the restaurant somehow managed to survive the detonation. We think she was dynamically shielded from the blast's pressure wave by the table—a minor miracle in itself. She's in a hospital in Salt Lake City in a coma. She is more dead than alive, and it isn't clear whether she'll regain consciousness, but we've got folks discretely keeping an eye on her. If she recovers, I assume you'll want to arrange a chat, and so we wouldn't want anyone to silence her.” Achi thinks about this new information.
Zaleria clears her throat, “Er, what happened to my pistol?”
Clive smiles. “Don't worry, we recovered it. One of my men saw it on the floor and thought it prudent to pick it up—it seemed peculiar, although I'm not sure he had any idea what it was. I have it locked in the safe in my office.”
“What entities are you tracing back to in the Middle East?” Achi asks.
Clive grimaces. “It appears to be a loose association of businessmen, clerics, and royals linked to a previously unknown society calling itself Sklávoi Ashtoreth.”
“Interesting,” Achi thinks. “Greek.” Ashtoreth was one name for a long line of goddesses that dated back to before Sumer. She'd been known by many names: Inanna, Ishtar, Astarte, Aphrodite were all associated with the goddess linked to the planet Venus, often depicted riding a chariot across the sky. Coincidence? Sklávoi Ashtoreth could mean “slaves to Ashtoreth” but may carry perhaps a double meaning, implying either a bond servant or someone who is deeply (slavishly) devoted to Ashtoreth. Achi knows much of the mythology associated with the goddess. Tales told over many a camp fire: a trip to the underworld, hoarding key elements of knowledge, strife with lovers and family. Hmm.
Zaleria turns her head to look at him, marveling at how he is quickly making associations from history, thinking through the implications, pulling from her memories as well to develop hypotheses about which races might pass for a female god. A testament, perhaps, to the value of working together to solve this mystery.
“What about the man who conducted the suicide attack in the restaurant? What have you been able to learn about him?” Achi asks.
“He appears to have been an anti-DIS zealot. His web postings indicate he thought our company was a white nationalist front because our charitable foundations advocate for individual responsibility and capitalism, which is the foundation of white privilege, you know.”
Achi shakes his head; he'd actually gained an appreciation for the innate moral virtues of those qualities while he was in central Asia, just as the proto-civilization that would later become China was starting to form.
“As far as we can tell, he'd become recently radicalized through contact with a socialist academic group headquartered in Germany but funded through several intermediaries by a billionaire that also, you guessed it, appears to fund other Sklávoi Ashtoreth activities. This individual appeared particularly susceptible because he was unemployable and still living with his mother. I'm not making this up,” he adds as Achi shakes his head.
“Great,” Achi says, “If we now have to guard against every neck-beard in the country, we're screwed.”
Zaleria chimes in, “What have you been able to find out about the woman, the one who survived?”
Clive nods in her direction, “Right. She appears to be a free-lance operative. She is from Philadelphia originally but has spent a lot of time in Europe and Lebanon. Like the group in De
nver, she was employed by a security firm that appears to have been nothing more than a shell company to provide a legitimate entity for their activities. Its funding sources have not yet been determined, but it originates outside the US.”
Zaleria wonders how much this woman might know. She looks at Achi. “If the collective permits, I might be able to pay her a visit, see if I can reach her mind and find out what she knows. I cannot harm her so will be limited in what inducements I could offer, unless…“
Achi looks back at her. “Unless I offer to cover her tracks. I could, but only if her information is good, and only after we verify it.”
Clive clears his throat with an accusatory embellishment, “Do you have any further questions?”
Achi looks at him while Zaleria flushes a bit. “We were just sharing with each other that it might be worth Zaleria having an interview with this young lady, if some measure of privacy can be assured. We may have to offer her a new start, if she is fully cooperative.”
Clive nods his head, “I'll see what I can arrange. It'll probably take a few days.”
“I'll reach out to the collective, if that is okay with you, to see if I can get some equipment that will come in handy. Where would be a good place for them to land?” She asks, raising an eyebrow.
Clive thinks about it a moment. “They should land near the hydro power facility; it is out of sight of the main road. I assume they can be discrete?”
Zaleria's lips twitch into a smile, and she nods, “Yes, we've learned it's best to not look like a huge ball of light while shuttling to and from the surface. Can you lock on to the transponder?”
He nods, “I'll get right on it. Uh, what number shall I reach you at to patch you through?”
She looks over at Achi, “We share the same number.” Clive stares at her for a moment with an unreadable expression but doesn't ask any further questions before taking his leave.
Achi doesn't say anything. Zaleria has not seen fit to share their predicament with the collective, and he'll continue to respect her silence by not sharing it with Clive. Ironically, the only people they can completely trust right now is each other, because they know everything the other is thinking.
Through the Singularity Page 12
