A. Warren Merkey

by Far Freedom

  “Eat your breakfast,” Mai said sharply.

  Horss looked at Mai and shrugged as he put fruit slices in his mouth. “I’m eating. Do you think I can find work around here?”

  “Don’t speak with your mouth full.”

  He swallowed. “Where are the admiral and the boy?”

  “Not far from here. Protected.”

  “If he isn’t who he thinks he is, then he ain’t the law. We can do whatever you want. I can be your muscle.”

  “If you’re offering to escort me to Rafael’s home, thank you, but we can’t get into it except by Pan’s transmat.”

  [You know how to get into Rafael’s home, don’t you, Fred?]

  [Why do you ask unnecessary questions?]

  [Shall we wrestle?]

  “I heard you say something about him not letting you visit Rafael.”

  “He said I was harassing Rafael,” Sugai Mai said.

  “Were you?”

  “Rafael is old.”

  “So am I.”

  “You’re less than sixty, Captain! Rafael is one hundred twelve. He’s had only minimal age treatments.”

  “And you’re a priestess of the Church of Immortality. I understand. Rafael doesn’t believe in living forever.”

  “Yes, but…”

  “But what?”

  “Rafael is Rafael de LaGuardia.”

  Section 007 A Reunion of Strangers

  She rippled. Smooth brown skin rose and fell as the muscles beneath bunched and flattened rapidly in a cascade of motion across the visible portions of her arms and legs. The rippling built to a peak of amplitude and frequency then tapered down to nothing. Breathing deeply and perspiring, the admiral slowly flexed her limbs and torso while walking through the sun-dappled shade of a giant oak. She didn’t wish to perform her physical conditioning function in this heat and humidity but it was a process demanded of her by her augments. The dress Rafael gave her to wear was not self-cleaning and she hated to soil it.

  “What was that?” Samson asked. The admiral was a thing of wonder to him. This was in addition to everything else she meant to him: a complex set of needs, desires, and emotions he couldn’t sort out, didn’t want to sort out.

  “Exercise,” she answered. He was full of questions. Fidelity - Rafael called her by her given name and it pleased her - Fidelity wondered at Samson’s state of mind. The child spent a restless night in bed beside her. Now he seemed much better. He hardly complained of his terrible injury. He knew it was possible to regenerate his limb, make him whole again. That would help his emotional recovery. She still worried that she was missing some symptom that would warn of a serious problem with his well-being. She slept little in the night. If his nightmares didn’t wake her, then her own inner turmoil would boil to the surface and wake her. She was changing and it frightened her. She reacted in a different way to almost everything. There was another person within her who saw from another perspective. She progressed quickly from resentment for the burden Samson placed on her to a fascination with the relationship he made possible.

  “How do you do that?” Samson asked. “Can you teach me?”

  ” You need certain modifications to your body.”

  “Are you very strong? You look like you are.”

  Stronger than she ever imagined. “Yes, I’m strong. It’s necessary.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m a Navy officer.”

  “But you’re an admiral. Everyone has to do what you say. You don’t have to be strong.”

  “A pleasantly incorrect assumption.”

  “Where are you going? Can Gator and I come with you?”

  “If you wish. I’m exploring.”

  “Do you know how you’ll get back to your ship?”

  “It will come to me when I call it. Right now it can’t hear me.”

  The brown-and-black-striped dog bounded ahead of them. Samson quickly became friends with the dog named Gator, whose favorite activity in his youth, Rafael said, was stealing alligator eggs. Samson struggled to keep pace on crutches. Gator disappeared down a side trail. They could hear his feet thudding, the brush crackling, his nose vacuuming scents.

  The admiral paused some distance ahead of Samson to examine a spider centered in a web that spanned the gap between trees. “It’s big!” Samson declared, arriving beside her. “What is it?” The admiral named the spider by its Latin classification. “You’re doing it, too! Milly always told me the Latin names of plants and animals.”

  “We seem to have lost your computer,” she said. “I was hoping to talk to Milly.”

  Samson gathered both crutches under one arm, so that he could use the free hand to take Fidelity’s hand. The crutches had appeared in the early morning, tailored to fit Samson’s small stature. She held his hand as they walked slowly, held it even when sweat tried to make their hands slip apart.

  “Milly didn’t want to talk to you,” Samson said. “Both of her.”

  “Both? What do you mean?”

  “Maybe there were three. The old Milly was my computer. When I got weak and sick Milly became more alive. She sounded real and angry and afraid for me. When you found me, that Milly said goodbye. She thought I was safe. Then I got into trouble and another Milly began to talk to me. She was scary.”

  ” She was a bad person?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t trust her. But I think most of what she told me was true.”

  “What did she tell you?”

  “It’s hard to remember.”

  She didn’t want to press him for details for fear of distressing him. She knew Samson wanted to talk to her, if only to hold her attention. He talked a lot with her and Rafael this morning, but not about things that hurt him. She had asked him about Milly’s role as his teacher, wondering about the state of his education. She informally quizzed him and discovered Samson was precocious in mathematics. He could perform computations in his head that rivaled what her Navy data augment could do.

  The artistic clutter of Rafael’s home fascinated Samson perhaps more than it did her. He deluged Rafael with insightful questions about every detail that caught his attention. Yet, when Fidelity decided to take a walk, Samson came with her, leaving the house of wonders in favor of keeping her company. She was pleased he wanted to be with her, but she was afraid she would fail him, leave him unprotected again. She had enemies who could place Samson in further danger. She needed to find a place for him to be safe. Logically, that would be the Mnro Clinic.

  They heard the dog barking in the distance. They walked toward the sound until they could see Gator, tail wagging, pacing around a fully retracted tortoise. Before they could reach the dog and try to rescue the tortoise the air thickened and clutched at them until they could no longer move forward. The admiral withdrew from the invisible barrier. Samson continued to experience the barrier, testing it with his crutches and throwing objects at it.

  “It may not be healthy for you to remain in contact with the barrier,” she warned.

  “How did Gator get through? I don’t want him to hurt the turtle.”

  “He wears a collar that may send a code to the barrier generator that tells it to let him through.”

  “Why is there a barrier?”

  “It must be to protect Rafael. I suspect large predators and people are blocked from entering the area around Rafael’s dwelling.”

  “How does it make the air so sticky?”

  “I don’t think I can tell you accurately in a short amount of time. Perhaps you would like to be an engineer when you grow up. Let’s move on. Maybe Gator will leave the tortoise to follow us.”

  As they walked she could sense Samson thinking in a serious way, because

  he was silent for so long.

  “Are you going away?” he asked. Fearing the answer, he didn’t want to ask the question, but he had to know. Better sooner than later, so he would have time to argue his case for staying with her.

  The way Samson asked the question made Fidelity regret t
he answer she would need to give him. She hesitated to reply. He seemed to react to the hesitation by abandoning the question.

  “Will Captain Horss live?” Samson instinctively was keeping her from replying. He could see she didn’t want to give him the answer that would disappoint him, and that would be her answer if he couldn’t change her mind. He was trying to change the subject. “I saw you hit him.”

  “I hurt him badly, Samson. I’ve been told he’ll be treated by the Mnro Clinic. I’m sorry you had to see that.”

  “He tried to hurt you?”

  “Thank you for assuming he was the bad guy, but he wasn’t. Neither of us could control what was happening. That’s why we couldn’t stop you from being injured. I still don’t understand why you went into the elevator building.” He struggled to tell her. She didn’t understand some of what he said but she refrained from asking too many questions. It was appalling that he should have suffered that way. It was also clear that Milly was as responsible as she was for his injuries. If Milly was real was no longer a question for her. If that sparkling amorphous alien was real, why not Milly?

  “Can I stay with you?” Samson asked, hoping he had given the admiral reason to want to keep him near her. He knew she cared for him. He hoped so. This was new to him, interacting with real people, yet he could feel how to take advantage of whatever he could, never realizing how special he was and in how many ways.

  “What do you mean?” Fidelity asked. She knew what he meant and it made her feel very good. If she could somehow escape from the Navy and find a safe place to live she would feel privileged to adopt Samson and raise him. How realistic was that? Unfortunately, not only would the Navy not go gently from her life but her very being seemed poised to attack itself.

  “Milly said my parents were dead,” Samson said. “I want to stay with you.”

  “How did she know?” Fidelity asked.

  “She said if they were good parents and really loved me they would do anything in their power to find me. Since they had plenty of time to look for me and never found me, they must be dead. I think they are.”

  ” Samson, I don’t know if I can take care of you. I want to, but that would place you in more danger.”

  Samson shrugged, and let his shoulders sag in resignation. He still felt hopeful. He wouldn’t give up the admiral. “Okay. Maybe I can stay with Rafael.”

  She stayed silent, not knowing what she should say or feel. At times she felt very possessive of Samson. At other times she was terrified of the responsibility. Beyond it all was the impenetrable mystery of his existence. She thought about Rafael and how he might become a guardian for Samson. He was more accustomed to children than she, and he showed her how to interact with Samson in a relaxed way, as though he was experienced in parenting. She remembered that many of Rafael’s paintings featured a child, perhaps his own. If Samson stayed with him he could be a reason for Rafael to extend his life and continue his art.

  They took another path. The big dog came back to them and stayed near for a short time before scouting ahead in their new direction. They smelled sunlight on dry pine straw, wildflowers in humid air, blooming magnolias. The sandy path led down through the shade of a great oak and to the bank of a stream black with depth.

  The Opera Master stood on the other side of the stream.

  She stared at Pan from across the divide. He stared at her. She felt trapped by a force within her that she couldn’t understand or deflect. Neither of them moved for a long time. She didn’t notice when Samson released her hand. Finally she realized Samson was missing. She felt a moment of fear. The spell was broken. The strong part of her took over. She swept her gaze up the path under the tree. She couldn’t see Samson and Gator. In so short a time she had violated her responsibility for Samson!

  The admiral rushed back up the path. She saw Samson standing under a liveoak on his crutches. His alarmed expression told her everything. She slowed her approach, expecting the presence of another person. She continued to Samson, not caring about the invisible person she could hear approaching. She started to take Samson’s hand but something seized her wrist. She quelled her combat reflex, unwilling to do violence so near to Samson. She waited for the pain and punishment.

  The huge Rhyan became visible. The first thing she saw was his frown as his black and gray eyes moved over her face in what seemed like difficult recognition. The second thing she saw were the tattoos on his bare forearms and she was surprised she knew what they meant. She could name his desert clan. She could name his battalion of the Rhyan Royal Guard. But he was wearing a brightly colored tropical shirt and she couldn’t stop a chuckle from escaping. “You may as well relax, Rhyan,” the admiral said, speaking Standard. “I won’t fight you.”

  ” Thank you,” the man rumbled. ” I was afraid you would hurt me.”

  Fidelity appreciated the humor of a man twice her size. She understood why he was here: to take Samson away, in case she offered resistance. She would not do that. It saddened her to lose the boy but it also relieved her. She was only a danger to Samson. The Rhyan released her wrist, watching her intensely. He picked Samson up, who tried to resist.

  “No, don’t fight him, Samson. I’m sorry, but it has to be this way.”

  Samson began to weep and Fidelity felt sick about it. How lifeless her life had been before Samson! How little emotion to provide flavor and meaning to her existence. She watched the Rhyan take Samson away while she struggled to regain control of herself. When she was calm again she thought about the look of recognition in the Rhyan’s face she had seen. How would he recognize her? Was he an agent of Etrhnk, who was already searching for her on Earth?

  The Opera Master approached. “How is Captain Horss?” she asked, trying to reset her priorities, trying to become an admiral again. “Did he survive? Is he well?”

  “He’s alive. The director of the Mnro Clinic thinks he suffered slight brain damage. I see no outward signs of serious mental degradation, being unable to compare to what is normal for him. How is the boy?”

  “He had a bad night but seems better now. Why did you send us here?”

  “I wanted Rafael to meet you. I wasn’t correct in sending you and the boy here. Rafael will scold me for not sending you to the Clinic. I wasn’t in my right mind.”

  “Are you in your right mind now?” She could see he wasn’t.

  “No.” He seemed to be waiting for her to ask another question, as though he couldn’t formulate one of his own. He also stared at her even harder than the big Rhyan. She could detect a faint tremor in his arms, which he folded across his chest to still them.

  “The boy,” he spoke, and stopped. Pan felt lost. This body he stood in wasn’t his, but who was he then? The boy deserved better than Pan felt able to give. What was he about to say?

  “I hope the Rhyan is taking him to the Mnro Clinic,” Fidelity said, impatiently.

  “Yes. Eventually. He will stay with Rafael a little longer. It will give the Mnro Clinic physician an excuse to visit Rafael.” He wondered how he had managed that situation. He didn’t remember such a plan, it just happened.

  Perhaps she would see Samson again! “Have you found his parents?”

  “The Mnro Clinic can find no match for his lineage. Doctor Sugai is upset about it.”

  No surprise there, she thought, feeling justified in how special she thought Samson was. Pan the Opera Master provided yet another mystery to confound her. She had noticed his reaction to her the first time she was in his presence and now it was stronger. She was feeling more disrupted herself. If Pan would just talk, she might find something in his words to point her in a new direction, any direction. The longer she stayed in his presence, the worse her reaction to him became. She couldn’t be angry with him. She couldn’t break away. She didn’t wish to move away from him. Something needed to be done. The situation had become intolerable. What was happening? What more could go wrong with her life?

  “Why were you fighting the captain?” he asked, fin
ally identifying something he might say, some information he might want to know. Pan had spoken to billions of people during telecasts of the Mother Earth Opera. He had performed as a musician before vast audiences. He had used his physical powers to quell fights and stop riots. But at this moment in time, in front of this African woman, he could barely utter a simple phrase, or keep his extremities from trembling.

  “What I would tell you wouldn’t benefit you. It would place you in danger.” She waited for another question from him but found another to ask of him. “Why did you interfere?”

  “The boy. I wanted to confront you for what happened to him.”

  “And you need to confront me again?”

  “Do you recognize me?”

  “What do you mean? I know who you are.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m not very coherent today. Would you know who Ruby Reed was?”

  Fidelity was startled to realize how vast was the capacity of her data augment. She whispered the name into her data augment, forgetting she was no longer linked to the nearly infinite capacity of the Navy network. But she was able, after only a moment’s delay, to find the vital statistics of a person of that name who was a singer. Why would her personal database possess such obscure data? “Ruby Reed was a singer.”

  “How did you know that?” Pan took a step closer to her, hope welling up.

  “I have a facility for data.” Perhaps that satisfied Pan, but not herself. She scanned the biography in her ocular terminal, picking out the key facts. “Ruby Reed died ninety-eight years ago. She lived primarily in New Orleans, L4. She

  70 Far Freedom was not well known.”

  “I don’t think she died.” Pan’s eyes devoured her face. His mind strained to retrieve those elusive flashes of the past to match the admiral with Ruby Reed.

  “There’s an official death certificate. She refused rejuvenation.”

  “I think you are Ruby Reed. You have her voice.”

  “That is a fantastic thought you have.” She wondered at the picture of Ruby Reed she saw inside her eyes. “How could that be? Ruby Reed was European not African.”