by M. D. Cooper
“I think that would be a good idea. Just stay away from the sea monsters’ site. We have another big picotech deployment happening today. Earnest’s coordinator said we need to avoid the area for a few hours.”
“Is that to make the viewing platform at the edge of the ocean shelf?” Martin asked.
“That’s right. After that, the only buildings we’ll have left to do are the hotels that serve the maglev stations, and then we’ll be done. Full opening next week.”
Jude was wandering through the holo of the marine park, sweeping his arms through the large marine organisms that were swimming around.
“As early as next week?” asked Martin. “That’s hard to believe.”
“We’ve accomplished a huge amount in a short period of time,” Lindsey said. “I really appreciate your involvement. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“I’ve loved being here.”
“Can I count on your support for a while longer?” asked Lindsey. “There’s still plenty to finish off and then there’s the upkeep, and I have a few more ideas I’d like to try out.”
“I’m not sure yet, to be honest, Linds. I’m worried about the situation on Troy. From what I’ve heard, the place is a bomb that’s about to go off.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that too. I hate to think what might become of the park if that happens. But maybe it won’t come to anything.”
“I hope not,” Martin said. “If the situation cools down, I’d love to stick around. I have a few ideas of my own for this place.”
“I’d love to hear them, but later. Today’s visitors will be arriving in ten minutes.”
“Maybe you could come for dinner later,” Martin offered. “We can talk then.”
“It’s a deal,” Lindsey replied.
“Daddy,” said Jude, grabbing Martin’s leg. “When are we going to see the octopuses?”
“Very soon,” he replied.
“You go ahead,” said Lindsey. “I’m going out to the front entrance to greet the visitors. Pietr’s joining the tour today, along with the guide.”
“He is? That’ll be a treat for them to have an expert along.”
“I thought so too. Have fun with the octopuses!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
STELLAR DATE: 05.24.8941 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Messene Station
REGION: Troy, New Canaan System
On the eastern end of Messene, Erin was working on what had become her favorite part of the project: the engineering academy. The building was nearly complete. Erin had stretched the budget in certain areas and reallocated credits here and there in order to spare no expense on the place. Her efforts were entirely justified, in her opinion. With the colony’s generally accelerated timetable on everything, New Canaan had a shortage of top-class engineers, and the system had long been suffering from the effects.
< ‘Jude’s brother or sister’? Walter, are you in cahoots with Martin? Or is Eamon in on it too? All three of you are working on me, pushing the sibling for Jude agenda. Stars!>
A vision of Martin swimming through the sea, his belly distended with a pregnancy, popped into Erin’s head. Her husband looked like a genetic experiment gone wrong. She snorted with laughter.
Linch and MacCarthy lifted their heads from their consoles to look at her.
“Something Walter said,” Erin explained.
“Must have been a good joke,” said MacCarthy.
“Only to me.”
The two engineers returned to their work.
“We’re done,” MacCarthy said, referring to the newly built academy. “Ready to seal her up.”
“Wait a minute,” said Linch. “Can we double-check that the corridors are to spec?”
“Sure,” responded MacCarthy uncertainly, “if you want. But I’m positive they’re laid correctly.”
“I was just wondering….” Linch said. He turned to Erin. “Were you planning on doing any teaching at the academy?
She frowned, puzzled by the question. “I hadn’t thought about it. Maybe. Why are you asking?”
Linch didn’t answer her. Instead, he leaned toward MacCarthy and whispered loud enough for everyone to hear, “We’d better add a third to the corridor widths.” He jerked his head at Erin. “Give her some room to navigate.”
MacCarthy sniggered, and Linch guffawed.
“Aw, come on, guys,” Erin said. “Aren’t you ever going to let me forget about that?”
“Of course not,” Linch said. “This is way too much fun.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
STELLAR DATE: 05.24.8941 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Isa’s Gallery, Heliopolis, Ithaca
REGION: Troy, New Canaan System
The cleanup crew had done an excellent job at the gallery. Apart from the empty spaces left where smashed or irretrievably damaged artwork had been removed, the gallery looked like the drill hadn’t even taken place. It was in just as good, or even better, condition than it had been before the opening event.
Isa took a tour of the building just in case she’d missed something. At the same time, she mentally checked the data files of her installations to make sure that nothing had interfered with them. Everything seemed untouched. All she needed to do now was replace the holoprojectors and then she could open up the place to paying customers.
The planned opening date had come and gone. The invasion drill had seen to that. Any visitors to the gallery on the original first day of business would have received the message that it was closed until further notice. Isa hadn’t wanted to name a second date in case there was a hiccup in the restorations.
Now she was faced with the problem that all the interest generated by the opening party and Tanis’s attendance had faded away. She had to re-advertise and tell potential clients that the gallery was finally open for business.
It should have been an easy task. Isa already had a list of appropriate feeds and physical sites that sold advertising. Yet when she tried to submit her ads, her applications were bounced back. The sites didn’t recognize her business license number.
Isa tutted. Something had gone wrong somewhere. There had been some kind of bureaucratic hiccup, possibly due to the invasion drill. She’d advertised before without any problems.
Trying to track down the source of the problem, she checked with the government office that awarded business licenses. She was standing on the upper mezzanine, at the same window she’d looked out of when Singh had gone on his weird political rant soon after they’d met. When Isa saw the response from the government about her license, she was so shocked, she went to the nearest seat and sat down. Her license had been withdrawn. She looked up the reason. It read: ‘Fraudulent application to the invasion preparation compensation fund’.
For a moment, she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. She hadn’t committed any fraud. She checked that she had the right account, but her personal details were there plain as day. She went over everything she�
��d done when she submitted her compensation claim. If anything, she’d under claimed. She’d left her artworks out entirely because she couldn’t put a price on them.
She was sure she definitely hadn’t done anything wrong, but then it hit her. Singh.
Her landlord had brazenly told her he was going to exaggerate his estimation for damages to the building. This had to have something to do with that. While Isa had been away on vacation, Singh’s claim had been investigated. Perhaps an inspector had visited the building to assess the true extent of the damage, and her landlord’s ruse had been discovered.
The authorities must have assumed they were working together. Singh had been found guilty, and she’d been tarred with the same brush. No wonder her landlord hadn’t been in touch all the time she’d been away. She also hadn’t heard from him since her return.
Isa tried to raise him across the Link, but, predictably, he didn’t answer. She left a message, asking him to explain if he knew why she’d lost her business license.
She cursed. So is this it, then? Has my ability to do business on Troy been permanently revoked? What can I do?
She’d invested so much time and money. She’d paid to upgrade Singh’s building with specialized electronics to run her installations. All her displays had been designed to fit in with the structure’s unusual design. What if Singh’s properties, including the gallery, had been seized or their operations frozen? Even if Isa managed to have her license restored, if she couldn’t run her business in Singh’s premises, she might not find a similar place to rent in all Heliopolis.
Had everything she’d done been for nothing? Her despair began to turn to anger as she realized she had no idea how to fix the situation.
She tried to contact the Trojan Business License Authority, only to meet another dead end. All the channels led to requests to submit formal queries, which would be ‘placed in a queue and dealt with as soon as possible’. No one was available to talk to her, not even an AI. It was ridiculous. She needed answers right away, not whenever an anonymous official got around to her requst.
The entire situation was way too frustrating. Isa decided she would go to the TBLA in person and try to speak to someone face to face. She was going to open her gallery and she was going to open it soon.
She leapt up and marched to the elevator, calling an autocab as she went. When she reached the first floor, she stamped out of the building. Her ride hadn’t arrived, but she was too agitated to stand and wait for the vehicle. She set off down the bustling street, telling the autocab to track her and meet her en route.
She strode along the streets, passing the same stores and establishments that had interested her only a few days prior without a second glance. The pinnacle at the top of Troy’s parliament seemed to be mocking her.
Erin had confided in Isa once that every Trojan she’d met had been an asshole, and Isa was inclined to agree. From the snooty women at the shooting range to her deceitful landlord and the unbearable Elora Pennypuddy, they were all assholes.
Every single one.
As she sped along, Isa tried Singh again. No reply. Then she tried the TBLA.
‘Please complete—'
Isa cut off the connection.
Government House came into view at the end of its broad avenue. She walked all the way to her destination without the autocab reaching her. Disgusted, she canceled the request. She stomped down the avenue, drawing some stares with her determined stride. She ignored the onlookers. They were probably all Trojans.
When she reached the central building, Isa burst into the lobby, scanning the information that gave the floors and room numbers of each department. A human receptionist asked if he could help her, but Isa replied that she was fine, she knew where she was going.
The Trojan Business License Authority was on the fifty-fifth floor. She waited for an elevator. There were only two and both of them were at the top of the building. Two elevators to service the seat of Troy’s government? Whoever had designed the place had to be a moron or an asshole. She guessed the latter.
The long wait caused Isa’s ire to cool, and she took more notice of what was happening around her. At the other side of the lobby, the doors to the public gallery in the debating chamber were open. A parliamentary debate was in session. The leader of the ruling party was answering questions from the opposition. Isa could hear the responses of the representatives from within the chamber.
It seemed like a normal day at Troy’s seat of government. Except, Isa suddenly realized with puzzlement and a degree of alarm, there are a lot of guards. She recalled she’d had the same impression on her previous visit. Are the numbers normal for Troy?
Isa had only been at Carthage’s Government House one time, when Tanis had debriefed her on the SSS attack at Tyre. She didn’t think she’d seen that many security personnel there.
She took note that not only was there an excessive number of guards, but that more were appearing and walking past her, heading toward the debate chamber.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
STELLAR DATE: 05.24.8941 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Marine Park, Ithaca
REGION: Troy, New Canaan System
Martin wasn’t sure what effect Jude’s presence might have on the octopuses, but he hoped it would be a good one. As a species, octopuses were excellent parents, or at least the females were, up to a point. Most octopus species’ females spent months caring for their developing eggs, not even eating or moving from their nests until after the eggs hatched. Often, they would die.
Martin had been heartened by the news that the octopuses had been behaving themselves since he’d spoken to them. Maybe another visit with his son in tow would be equally effective. Hopefully they would see him as a father and not only another marine park biologist.
As he was driving the submersible out of the bay, Martin saw the visitors’ amphibious vehicle enter the water. He pointed it out to Jude. The amphibian seated twenty and was one of many that lined up at the park’s entrance on the beach. After the passengers climbed aboard, the vehicle would be driven along a paved ramp that led directly into the sea.
Was that why Pietr had wanted to tag along on the latest tour? Did he want to have fun driving the underwater buses? Martin peered closer at the amphibian as the bubbles cleared in the distance. Yes. There Pietr was, in the driving seat.
Martin gave him a wave, but Pietr didn’t wave back. Martin guessed the lab tech hadn’t noticed him. It didn’t matter. He would see him later.
Martin started out on the drive across the park to the octopuses’ garden.
Lindsey had told him the route the visitors would take. First, they would pass by the coral reefs, which were already teeming with life. The site was best seen via snorkelling or diving, but the guests would still have a pretty good view through the amphibian’s windows. Next, they would be visiting the sea mammals’ area. That would be a lot of fun. The sea otters, seals, sea lions, and dolphins loved going up close to the vessel’s windows to watch the people inside and interact with them.
The third site on the guests’ itinerary was the deep-sea dome. Pietr would circle the dome slowly several times so the guests could get a good look at the strange luminescent creatures that inhabited it. The final stop would be the octopuses’ garden. After leaving the sea, the visitors could catch the maglev to return to Ithaca, or take another route home.
When the park was fully open, all the areas would be accessible, including the monsters of the deep site and the diatom spectacle, which wasn’t quite ready yet. Creating diatoms the size of small children that could also perform their normal processes had turned out to be much harder than Lindsey had anticipated.
Jude’s expression was full of fascination as Martin piloted the submersible through the water. Even his favorite toy had fallen from his grasp as he stared, open-mouthed, at the watery expanse that surrounded them. He was quick to spot sea creatures, no matter how distant they were from the vehicle.
Soon, Ma
rtin had driven the Torpedo most of the way across the safari park, and the kelp forest that was the octopuses’ pride and joy was coming into view.
Jude asked, “Are we at the octopuses’ garden? Can I play with them?”
He was clearly thinking that Martin would drive the submersible to the surface and let him get out for a swim, as he had at the sea mammals’ site.
“No, sorry,” Martin replied. “The waves are too high today. It isn’t safe to swim.”
Jude thought for a moment. “I’ll swim under the water.”
“You know, the octopuses would like that because they live on the bottom of the sea, but you won’t be able to stay there very long. You would have to go up to the surface to breathe. Sorry, Jude. Maybe next time. But you can see the octopuses from here.” Providing they come out. The seascape was looking suspiciously empty of cephalopods.
“I want to breathe water like you, Daddy,” said Jude.
“One day you’ll be able to if you want. When you’re older.”
The legal age for body modification was eighteen, but Martin didn’t want to tell Jude that. If his little mind could comprehend the passage of time, he didn’t want to disappoint his son. When you were three, fifteen years had to seem an impossibly long wait.
Martin was looking around carefully for signs of camouflaged octopuses, but he couldn’t see a single one. The darned creatures were just too good.
The kelp forest swayed and trembled in the rough water, but of Xavier there was no sign. All the other octopuses were hiding too.
Darn it.
Martin might have known the creatures’ promises could not be counted upon. He wondered what to do. In an hour or so, Pietr was due to drive the amphibian across the garden. If the octopuses ‘pounced,’ as they seemed to be planning, that could mean bad publicity for the park.
