“That’s hard,” Elizabeth said. “I would like to meet your family sometime. You are so kind, Jiaying, so you must have very nice parents.”
Phew, Martin thought, looks like my mother really likes Jiaying. That’s good, so I won’t be caught in the middle between them.
“Thank you, Elizabeth. I will certainly tell my parents. I am sure we can get the families together somehow, and my mother is already feeling much better.”
“I still think you would have to fly to Shanghai,” Martin said. “Jiaying’s mother suffered a lot during the kidnapping to Guantanamo.”
“Kidnapping? What do you mean?” asked Elizabeth.
Jiaying and Martin looked at each other in surprise. So far, his mother appeared to only know the official version of the story. Hadn’t they already told her what actually happened?
“Let me tell you,” Jiaying said, and Martin was very grateful for it. He was starting to feel tired. His body was reacting to getting up early today and all the excitement afterward. Jiaying’s words, as she told the story he knew so well, calmed him down and made him sleepy.
Then the tabletop started to blink. What Martin had taken for a wooden table was actually a large screen, which now turned on. He gave his mother a surprised look.
“What, you think I live in the boondocks here?” she asked.
The rental car displayed a message on the screen. Its AI asked for permission to have the house AI relay a video call to the tabletop display. The call was labeled as high priority and came from Tokyo. Elizabeth confirmed this in a very routine fashion, after gazing at Martin to get his permission. He was surprised at how technically savvy she was.
Amy’s face appeared.
“Amy?”
“Yes, Martin, I’m glad you still recognize me,” she said tongue-in-cheek. “I’ve finally reached you. You have made yourself really hard to find the last few days.”
“We are currently traveling in Europe. Jiaying and I don’t have simultaneous time off very often, so we wanted to use the opportunity.”
“Even better—if I reached both of you I can do this with one call. I would like to invite both of you to a meeting in Tokyo.”
“Just a moment, Amy, I have to check my calendar. I don’t know when I’ll have time next year...”
“No, not next year,” Amy replied. “Nine days from now, on December 26th.”
Martin looked at Jiaying, who was just as surprised as he was.
“Then it must be...”
“Yes, it is. Important, and urgent,” Amy said. “Unfortunately, I can’t tell you more right now.”
“Okay, we will be there,” Jiaying interjected. “Please tell us the exact location of the meeting.”
“You will find out in time. I am looking forward to meeting with you.”
The screen turned itself off.
“What was that all about?” asked Martin.
“A request from Amy,” Jiaying replied. “Sorry I spontaneously answered for both of us. Amy asked us to meet her and there is no alternative but to do it. We will just have to fly there. Now, we have to book a flight and a hotel.”
“Then I won’t have to ask you where you are going to spend Christmas,” Elizabeth said. His mother sounded very neutral, instead of disappointed.
“Yes. Traveling,” Martin replied. They had not even mentioned Christmas yet. The holiday really did not mean anything to Jiaying, and Martin himself only liked it when little kids were present.
“That was a very surprising call, wasn’t it?” his mother observed.
“It was, indeed, Elizabeth. I do not know yet what to think of it.” Jiaying gently rubbed her fingers over her temples.
“I think we should get going then,” Martin said. “Is that okay?”
“Of course, my dear,” Elizabeth said. “I am very happy you came. And if you happen to be at some conference in Southern Germany, Jiaying, I would be glad if you could visit me on your own.”
“I’ll tell you by phone what Amy wanted from us,” Martin said.
His mother nodded. She fetched some paper towels from the kitchen and wrapped the rest of the cake in them. “Here, take it with you.”
“Thanks,” he said, and felt a lump in his throat. When Martin hugged his mother goodbye, she seemed much smaller and lighter than she used to. It was as if she was gradually disappearing from this world.
December 19, 2048, Ishinomaki
Dusk seemed to have already fallen, even though it was only 2 p.m. Water splattered against the windshield of the jeep, and it was not clear whether it came from the dark rain clouds above, or the wind-whipped, white crests of the waves from the right. During the summer, Ishinomaki was a nice tourist destination, but in winter the wet Pacific coast could get very unpleasant. Hayato steered the jeep after purposely switching it to manual control. Amy was amused by this contradiction—an engineer who exhibited no faith in technology. The vehicle’s AI could probably react to each swerve and curve and gust of wind more quickly than a human, but Hayato was more comfortable trusting his own instinctive driving abilities.
Dimitri Sol slept in his car seat in the back of the vehicle. Neither the weather nor the Japanese voices from the car radio seemed to bother him. Amy tried very hard to understand some of the language, but her Japanese skills were not yet good enough to catch more than an isolated word here or there. She leaned her head against the window and looked at the landscape. The three of them had visited here before, in the summer. She had liked the area so much she agreed to Hayato’s suggestion to spend the time between Christmas and New Year’s here with his parents. And it was true, if Dimitri Sol was going to grow up bilingual, he had to absorb his father’s native language as early as possible. Plus, she could understand Hayato’s parents looking forward to seeing their second grandchild. Hayato, who had an adult daughter, was their only son, and his parents had not been able to see him for a long time. The fact that he had unexpectedly brought back a wife and a child from his long journey rewarded them for their patience.
If it hadn’t been for the call from this Mr. Dushek, they might be spending some quiet, relaxing days by the wintery sea. Because of the Russian they were arriving late at the house of Hayato’s parents. Back in Tokyo they had tried to research their mysterious caller. Hayato knew some people who knew some people who sold information. Amy also tried to get some details about Dushek through her friends at NASA. The man was said to be an important part of the Russian space program, which the Americans were—at times—dealing with. She hoped to get some interesting phone calls about him this evening.
“We are almost there,” Hayato said.
“I am glad to hear that. The storm is getting stronger.”
Thus far they had been driving along the coastal road. Hayato activated the left turn signal and steered the car through a narrow street into the town. Suddenly it turned almost completely dark. Amy did not remember coming through here before, but her husband seemed to know the way.
“Here we are,” he said suddenly. He turned toward her and smiled. Amy was confused. The house they were stopped at looked completely different than what she recalled from the summer.
“Watch out for the lamp post,” Hayato warned. Amy nodded and opened the car door just wide enough to slip outside.
“Damn.” Hayato walked around the car. He pulled up the legs of his pants, but his shoes and socks were already soaking wet. “It does not matter,” he said, “I am getting Sol.”
The front door of the house opened. A large black umbrella came out, under which a short man was hiding. Amy immediately recognized Hayato’s father by his duck-like walk. He held the umbrella over her and politely offered her his arm. “Come inside, daughter,” he said.
Amy turned toward Hayato. Could she help him somehow?
“Just let your two men alone, they can cope,” Hayato’s father said while leading her into the house. The umbrella did not fit through the door, so he let her go first, turned around and closed the umbrella, an
d followed her in. Then Hayato entered the hallway, holding Sol in his arms, so it was pretty crowded. Amy took off her jacket and placed it on a hanger on the coat rack, and then she slipped off her shoes. The adjoining corridor was covered with raffia mats, so she entered with bare feet. There seemed to be no doors, but Amy already knew this was an illusion. Tetsuyo, Hayato’s father, slid one of the wooden walls aside, opening to another passage.
They entered the sparsely furnished living room. The floor was covered by the usual tatami mat, while a low table with enough spaces for six people stood in the center. The thick cloth on the table reached all the way to the floor. Both side walls had built-in closets, and the front wall had a window that was covered by cloth roller blinds. Hayato’s mother came through another entrance. She first bowed, and then hugged Amy.
“Nice to have you here,” she said in English. “Did Tetsuyo greet you properly? Or was he as gruff as always?”
“No, your husband was very courteous. I’ve never seen him act gruff,” Amy answered.
Mako gave a sly smile. Amy realized it was impossible to tell the woman’s age. “Please have a seat,” her mother-in-law then said. “I have already turned up the heater. I will bring tea in a moment.”
Amy and Tetsuyo crouched in front of the table. Then they sat down and pushed their legs under the table, while straightening the tablecloth, which also served as a blanket for their thighs. Amy relaxed. The kotatsu did not heat the entire room, but the warmth generated by the heating element below the tabletop spread from her legs into her whole body. Mako came back with a teapot, from which she poured into paper-thin porcelain cups. She also placed cookies on the table. Then she sat down as well.
“I hope you had a pleasant journey,” she said.
“Yes, but it was strenuous driving in the storm. Hayato had to work really hard,” Amy said. Then she added, “You have a great son.”
Tetsuyo and his wife bowed slightly.
“Hayato said something important interfered?”
Hayato had already told Amy his mother was both very intelligent and very curious. Amy was about to answer when her husband entered the room.
“I let Sol go back to sleep in the guest room,” Hayato said. “He did not really wake up anyway.”
He placed a hand on his father’s shoulder. His mother stood up to greet him.
“You look well,” she said.
“Thank you, I am.” He sat down with them and his mother poured a cup of tea for him.
“We were just talking about what kept you in Tokyo.”
“Yes,” Hayato said, “that was a strange phone call. I would like to hear your opinion about it.”
Amy knew he did not just say this as a dutiful son, but because he still valued his parents’ guidance, despite being over 40 years old. “I will never catch up with them,” he once told her.
“Gladly,” Tetsuyo replied.
“The caller identified himself as Dushek,” Hayato explained. “He is a Russian, rather well known in IT circles, who makes his money with AIs—artificial intelligences. We still have to check whether he is really the same Dushek. But I see no reason why someone else would pretend to be him.”
“And what did he want?”
“That is the strange thing, Mother—he offered to finance us for another expedition to Enceladus. No, not just that, but also to organize it.”
“And why should you accept this offer? You just returned, after all.”
“The man claims he knows a way to save Marchenko.”
“The spaceship’s Russian doctor that Dimitri Sol was named for?”
“Yes, Mother, and whose consciousness we brought back as a digital copy.”
“You told us about that, yes. I cannot really imagine it, but no matter. How does this man Dushek know of it? Is it not top secret?”
“That is one thing that really puzzles us...”
“And what is the other?”
“His motives, Mother. Such an expedition costs billions of dollars, many billions. What would he get that is worth so much to him?”
“As a businessman, he is certainly not acting due to a charitable impulse.”
“Yes, and that is precisely what we are worried about.”
“Let us assume you check his offer and the man speaks the truth, and could really get you to Enceladus. Would you accept?”
“Not for us, Father, but for Marchenko, yes, without a second thought. Assuming Marchenko wants it, too.”
“When are you going to ask him?”
“Next week, on the 26th, when we all meet in Tokyo.”
“Certainly someone will notice the entire crew of ILSE meeting a rich Russian in Tokyo?” said Mako, her inflection clearly making it a question.
That’s an important argument, Amy thought. Why didn’t we think of that ourselves? Were intelligence services watching them? Jiaying was an important poster child for her country, and there must be some eager super-secret agencies in the U.S. as well. Francesca would be traveling with an illegal AI. If Jiaying went on a privately-financed trip to Enceladus, her country could no longer use her for propaganda purposes.
Hayato’s thoughts seemed to be going in similar directions. “Thank you, Mother, that was an important point,” he said. “We should have thought of it ourselves.”
“If you actually go on this journey,” Mako said, giving her son a stern look, “you certainly will not force Dimitri Sol to go along, will you? Your son is welcome to spend the time here with us.”
Amy started feeling hot, and she had to pull her legs out from under the table. Two years without Sol—she could hardly imagine it. Yet Hayato’s mother had brought up a crucial issue: Did they have the right to deprive their son of another part of his childhood? Shouldn’t he grow up on a green Earth playing with toys, and kids his own age, instead of in dark space, with tools and computers and only adults? And if so, would this expedition be possible without her?
December 20, 2048, Ishinomaki
The first phone call came at 4 a.m. and woke the entire household, even though at breakfast, Hayato’s parents pretended not to have heard anything. Amy rejected the call and turned off the phone, but Sol was wide awake. She pulled his baby bed closer to their futon. He babbled happily while playing intently with her fingers, and she dozed off again. At 6 a.m. Hayato woke up due to a rattling sound somewhere. His father always got up this early for the sunrise Tai Chi session at his local dojo, and of course his wife got up to see him off. She cooked breakfast while he was out and they ate together after he returned.
Amy decided to use the time for work. Who was last night’s caller? Since the country code was 1, the call must have come from the U.S., her home country. Perhaps it’s someone from NASA? She called back.
“This is Meyers,” she heard a female voice answer.
“Sandy, is that you? This is Amy.”
“What a surprise! How are you doing?”
“I’m fine, and how are you?”
Amy hated small talk, but it was she who wanted something from Sandy, not the other way around. The woman she was talking to was an old friend, and they had flown together aboard an Orion capsule. At one point, Sandy’s family protested her frequent absences, and she found herself a job back on Earth. Amy was not sure who Sandy’s employer was now. Since everyone was very secretive about it, including Sandy, she assumed it was either the NSA or the CIA. These agencies had maintained their own small space program for quite some time, and NASA reserved launch capacity for them.
In order to reach Sandy, Amy had contacted a mutual friend who still owed her a favor. To be on the safe side, Amy made no mention of any details. She hoped Sandy would not be too surprised to hear from her, and would also be willing and able to do a bit of research for her.
“I have a question concerning someone in the Russian space program,” Amy began. “I don’t know why, and it doesn’t matter anyhow, but I have the feeling you could help me with an answer.”
“Then let me hear
about it,” Sandy said.
“Well,” Amy said, taking a deep breath, “it is about someone called Yuri Dushek. Should I spell the name?”
“No, that’s okay, the name sounds familiar. So he can’t be totally unimportant. Just give me a moment.”
Amy heard typing on a keyboard.
“I have a large file about this Dushek. Interesting guy. What specifically do you want to know?”
“How does he earn his money?”
“Why? Do you want to marry him? It looks like everything is completely legitimate. He seems to be very good at commercializing the findings of AI research. Then he sells this everywhere—even to countries we are not allowed to export to. In that respect, he has a kind of monopoly there, except for two Chinese guys, who certainly are nothing but front men for state companies.”
“What about in the aerospace industries?”
“Well, he uses his profits to finance part of the Russian space budget, but he does not participate. It looks more like an expensive hobby, or maybe he is very patriotic.”
“Let’s assume he offered to fly me to the moon. Could he do it with his own hardware?”
“No, he would have to buy space in the capsule of an Energia T rocket.”
“I understand. That is odd. Then maybe he overplayed his hand.”
“Wait a moment… there are connections to the RB Group.”
“RB Group?”
“It was formerly a major oil company. Now it is successful in asteroid mining—very successful, even. This allowed Dushek to finance his own company.”
“So is he a straw man for the RB Group?”
“No, I wouldn’t go so far as to say that. Dushek is much too active to be a mere straw man.”
“And who is behind RB?”
“A man who is even richer than Dushek. His name is Nikolai Shostakovich.”
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