As soon as Jeri finished the bagel and the last of the grapes, Delfinio passworded him into Dispatch.
"Don't worry,” Delfinio said as the walls shimmered and warped around Jeri. “You cannot make any mistakes. You can only watch and begin to process.” He snickered. “There will be a quiz."
About time to see the sensor controls, Jeri thought. Then, the walls of Dispatch vanished and...
...he dissolved.
A million simultaneous images crashed into his brain and he simply vanished into them. In a microsecond, he was NYUp, Dragon Home, New Singapore, Euro Two, black cans spinning, spangled with light, ship traffic, spilled garbage and lost tools, rocks caught in Sol's grip, dust, jock pods, shuttles...
He gasped, struggled to process, dizzy, his stomach clamping down on the grapes and chewed bread. Too many ... the images blurred together and he seemed to spin down into chaos.
Relax. Delfinio's voice in his ear. Don't try. You must dissolve. I will not let you get lost.
Words didn't make any sense ... Jeri sucked in breaths ... one, two, three ... all time suspended.
Relax. Don't look. Listen. Let the images themselves tell you what they are.
Hand touching him. Warm. Comforting. Jeri focused on that one, tangible sense and his breathing steadied. Don't look, he thought. How do you do that? He remembered a game he'd played with his best friend, Aimee, back when he was little. You looked at special pictures ... blurry dots. And if you relaxed your eyes just right ... a picture emerged.
He tried it. Relax. Relax your eyes, your mind, don't try to find any patterns, let go. He wasn't sure if he was thinking this or someone was telling him ... Delfinio? For a long time nothing happened, then, in an instant...
...it changed.
He saw the picture.
Just for a second. Just a glimpse. He was looking everywhere, all at once, in all directions, seeing everything. All at once. Then it all dissolved into chaos again.
"Very good.” Delfinio's voice sounded in his ear. “I told you. You would see it. I told you. You are the right one."
Jeri blinked, struggling to focus. Delfinio's face filled his vision, bright with triumph, close enough to kiss. He shoved away, automatic reaction, and they drifted apart, Delfinio giggling. The hull slapped his back, and he rebounded before he could grab for an anchor, his reflexes slow. “What happened?” he mumbled, his tongue thick, feeling as if he had been drugged.
"It's all right. It takes some time for the neural pathways to adjust. It interferes with speech for a short time."
"What interferes?” Fear flooded him.
"Do you know what Dispatch is?” Delfinio pushed off, did one of his utterly precise halts in front of Jeri. “Do you understand what just happened?"
Jeri shook his head no, not trusting his voice.
Delfinio floated in front of him, his pale eyes full of ... compassion. “We have a thousand thousand AI eyes out there, from the asteroid belt inward. To look for rocks falling, for the dropped tool, the bit of broken rubble that will hole a platform or destroy a shuttle. The eyes look for pirates, illegal shuttles. A million eyes. How do you think Dispatch works?” Delfinio's voice was gentle.
"A ... a program. Looks at all the images. You ... send out the jocks."
"No.” Delfinio cupped Jeri's face between his palms. “That is what the platform dispatcher teams rely on, but they are too slow. No. You have to see what needs seeing. A computer ... the best AI ... is too slow. It must look at everything. I ... you ... do not need to. As you learn, you will begin to see only what needs seeing."
Jeri moved his head in a short arc of disbelief.
"And that is why my pickup line was Ophiuchus.” Delfinio smiled. “Because the breeze from the stars has to touch you at the right time in your mother's womb before you can see what needs seeing. Before you can see with the eyes of the universe.” He looked sad, suddenly. “It does not touch all its children in the same way."
None of this made any sense and Jeri concentrated on not throwing up and totally disgracing himself.
"It is overwhelming ... the first few times.” Delfinio's hands were on him again, pushing him gently. “You will find it easier with practice. Sleep now. You have done enough today. You have dissolved. Now we will begin to put you back together. This has been a good first lesson."
Webbing brushed his face. His hammock. Delfinio webbed him in and his hands were gentle and too familiar and Jeri didn't much care. He had never felt this drained in his life, fell instantly into sleep. Later he woke to Delfinio's hands again, this time holding a packet of juice to his lips. He drank it, tasted things in it that weren't juice, and went back to sleep. In his dreams he chased after bits of junk that zipped around as if under power, trying to rip holes in the platforms. And all the time he chased them, he felt ... attention.
As if he was not alone.
* * * *
Time passed in a blur of exhaustion that never got any better. Jeri woke to Delfinio's face, hating him as he forced Jeri to down food that he didn't taste, then passworded him in, dissolving him again and again in a universe so vast that sometimes he thought that he had ceased to exist. Emerging, spent, he ate what Delfinio placed in his hands, slept, dreamed, and woke to do it all again.
Each time ... he saw more easily. Each time he saw ... less.
He stopped seeing everything all at once. In glimpses at first, then more and more often, the overwhelming images faded away and he saw only the threats. Junk. Rocks. Once, a ship slipping like a predator between the shadows of the platform cans where a ship did not belong. He sent out the jocks, that time, with Delfinio's supervision. He didn't dream at night anymore, simply slept.
And then, one morning, when he passworded in ... it worked.
He saw it. All of it. From the outer edges of Near Earth Orbit inward, as familiar as his family's apartment growing up on NYUp, as familiar as Delfinio's face. The little rocks drifting inward stuck out like strangers. Without thinking he pointed at one that was about to cross into a shipping lane. “Singapore Six,” he said because they were closest and it was their turn up in the rotation of rock jock teams.
Gotcha, Six's dispatcher murmured over Jeri's implanted com link. On our way, Dispatch.
Jeri startled.
Because it had been ... like breathing. He hadn't once thought about what he was doing. And Six's dispatcher had responded to his point as it showed up on their direct link. Six had called him “Dispatch."
Delfinio wasn't passworded in. Jeri realized it and quickly passworded out. No Delfinio. He had vanished. Panic ... totally illogical panic ‘cause where could he go? ... speared him. Jeri pushed off, somersaulted off the hull beside Delfinio's privacy closet, and slapped a palm against the lock plate. The hull cleared and there he was, webbed into his hammock. Asleep. Holographic letters glowed in a rich, plum purple in the air beside him.
It is a big job for one. The platform dispatchers cannot see it all, so it has been a long time since I have merely slept. It is your shift. We will celebrate when I wake. Congratulations, Dispatch.
Jeri toed himself back from the doorway and the hull opaqued behind him. One alone. He thought about that as he passworded himself back into the system, skimmed the universe of Near Earth Orbit easily, effortlessly, thoroughly. Felt a ghostly shimmer through his flesh, as if a breeze passed through his cells, unhampered.
"What are you?” he whispered. “What am I?"
Felt that breeze, but no answer.
He did the shift and it was a long one. He passworded out to pee, to drink some juice, to eat something. But always, even when he was out, the images hung just inside his consciousness, a ghostly overlay on the walls of reality that he skimmed with the part of his mind that wasn't busy eating, or peeing, or drinking juice.
And he wondered how long Delfinio had lived like this.
An eternity later, Delfinio reappeared, his eyes gleaming, chuckling to himself as he selected a huge meal from the kitchen wall.
“You'll have to learn to stop listening now,” he told Jeri as he sucked at a pint of guava juice. “When you need to sleep. It will take you some time, but there are two of us now. We will take turns."
"I hope I can do it.” Jeri drifted, his head full of the ghostly presence of the Near Earth universe. “Delfinio ... what is it? What am I feeling?"
"The voice of the universe?” Delfinio rotated slowly in place. “I'm not laughing at you. I don't know either.” He sucked the last drops of guava from the bag, sailed it into the recycle slot. “You will feel it most strongly when the Earth's magnetic field funnels the helium wind down through the gravity well. So perhaps it is helium atoms speaking?” He took a big bite from a curried tofu slab without losing a crumb. “But it has changed you, that wind or voice. Forever.” Upside down to Jeri's orientation he wagged a finger at him. “You will always see. You will always know. You have heard that whisper of the universe since your cells began to divide, but you did not know how to listen or to see. Now, you know."
Jeri closed his eyes, trying to banish the ghostly glimmer of Near Earth. “There's a bunch of junk ... nearly inside the..."
"I got it,” Delfinio said with his mouth full. Lost tawny crumbs of curried tofu, made a face. “I'll send Dragon Home's crew out in a moment. It's not really going to be a threat for another seventeen minutes. I'm on shift now. Tell yourself that. Really know it and let go.” Deftly, he snatched crumb after tiny, drifting crumb from the air, sucking them from his fingertips. “You are very tired. I have exhausted you for four weeks now."
Had it been that long? Blearily, Jeri tried to count days, but they blurred into a haze of sleeping and trying to sort through images. “It's going to be like this forever?"
"Yes.” Delfinio tossed the empty tofu wrapper into recycle, did one of his impossible rotations until he faced Jeri on the same orientation. He put his hands on Jeri's shoulders, gently, ignoring Jeri's flinch. “It is not always a burden. Look,” he said softly. “Not for the junk. Look ... outward."
"What do you mean?” Jeri blinked at him, wanting to push away from those long fingers on his shoulders. “We don't have sensors out beyond Near Earth."
"You don't understand yet.” Delfinio smiled at him gently, softly, lovingly. “Just ... look. Look for Saturn. Look past Saturn. You're not looking for junk. Just look."
Jeri looked. It was like breathing now ... look.
"No.” Delfinio sounded exasperated. “Stop looking at and just look."
Which made no sense. But Delfinio had said Saturn and he knew where it was. So he looked, remembered how it was when Delfinio first passworded him in to dissolve, didn't try to see, just looked out and waited to see what happened.
Nothing.
Nothing.
And then...
...the universe opened like a flower unfurling. Stars, galaxies, planets whizzed past, with glimpses of brown/white/gray/green/blue. He was falling into forever, heard someone yell, realized dimly it was his voice, felt Delfinio's arms around him.
"Look, just look,” Delfinio breathed in his ear. “You're not lost, you're right here."
He saw ... forever.
"Come back now. That's enough."
Jeri blinked, his stomach curling with loss, cramped walls curved around him. Dumb, he stared into Delfinio's eyes. Not windows into an alien sky, no. Windows into forever.
"It is not always a burden ... finding the trash.” Delfinio kissed him gently on the forehead. “You get to truly see."
"I saw ... worlds,” he whispered. “Blue. That's water, right?"
"I don't know.” Delfinio grinned, showing all his teeth. “I've never looked that close. Why?” His shrug didn't move him one centimeter. “I can't go there. You can look close if you want."
He had seen worlds, infinite universes. He thought of the blue and white planets, the green and tawny ones. Flinched as Delfinio touched him.
"It's like getting drunk,” Delfinio said softly. “Only sometimes. Only when you're not looking for junk.” Darkness threaded his words ... no ... it was sadness. “Or you really will dissolve. It will suck out your soul and leave nothing behind."
And Jeri shivered, hearing a reason why Delfinio looked for junk alone.
"I think you will be fine.” Delfinio grinned again, pushed him so that Jeri drifted toward the little shuttle lock. “Take the shuttle and go back to The Hole. You did not really celebrate your graduation and you should do that. You do not need to pay. They will never let you pay, now.” His grin widened. “Set the shuttle on auto and it will bring you home safely."
Home. Jeri looked around the small ovoid of Dispatch. Looked back at Delfinio. “Thanks,” he said and hesitated, because he had been about to refuse. “Yeah, I'll go."
"Go get drunk. Find Zai. She had her eye on you.” Delfinio cackled. “When you're all done, it's my turn. It has been a long time since I have drunk bitter beer at The Hole."
"What happened to your last trainee?” Jeri paused outside the shuttle. “Or am I the first?"
"Oh, not the first.” Delfinio looked away.
When it became clear he wasn't going to say more, Jeri left.
* * * *
It was as Delfinio said. He pushed into The Hole and Sanya and Jorges were there with some of their off-duty NYUp teammates drinking beer and being as silly as Jeri remembered from training. They hollered and whooped when they saw him and the barkeep handed him a bag of beer as he made his way over to them through the crowded bar and waved away his attempt to pay. He had had no time for the G gym and even the slight gravity of The Hole dragged at him and made his joints ache.
"Hey, this is our buddy from training.” Sanya slapped him on the back, three tiny lightfiber roses gleaming on her left arm. Hits. “Hey, send me after some good stuff, will you?” She laughed. “I want something better than lost wrenches and junk. You guys, Jeri's Dispatch, can you believe it?"
They had no idea what Dispatch really was, but they were suitably impressed and for a time, he and Sanya and Jorges traded training stories of stupid mistakes, pranks, and good hits. He drank the beer and it was fun for awhile.
But it wasn't the same. He caught their brief sideways looks, read the hint of tension in Jorges’ shoulders. He didn't belong here. The talk had turned to gossip and orbital politics and Jeri sat listening, looking into the invisible bubble of camaraderie. Outsider. Silently he finished his beer. Everything hurt with a subtle nagging ache and in spite of the buzz of beer in blood, the images of platforms, shuttles, and drifting bits of old stars lurked like a mist between him and the others as Jorge told a joke about some teammate's bad luck with love and everybody laughed.
"Hey, it's the new Dispatch."
Jeri looked up at the familiar voice.
"Hey, Zai.” Sanya waved her over, respect in her tone as well as in the curve of her shoulders. “Jeri was in training with us. Jeri, this is Zai. She's NYUp's Number One Team leader."
"Yeah, we've met,” Jeri said as the tall jock carried her beer over. She had a few new tattoos, and her eyes met his, gleaming with laughter and maybe something more as she perched in a hammock next to him.
"I guess Delfinio's happy with you.” She winked. “Congratulations."
"What about this Delfinio?” Jorges cracked his third beer. “Is he one of those weird Gypsies like I've heard, Jeri? Creepy."
With a single, fluid movement, Zai caught Jorges's foot and flipped him backward out of his hammock. He landed hard, even in the slight gravity, his beer skidding across the stained floor, trailing lacey foam. “Watch your mouth, newbie,” Zai said very softly.
"Sorry.” Jorges scrambled to his feet, rubbing the back of his head, his expression nervous. “Look, I'm really sorry.” His glance skidded from teammate to teammate, finding no supporters. “I didn't mean..."
"Don't say what you don't mean.” Zai turned her back on him. “Dispatch, I'd be honored to buy you a beer.” She winked at Jeri, a bit of a leer in that wink. “Let's take it up to the
hub garden, eh? My friend works there and I have a pass."
They collected fresh beers and left The Hole and Jeri was aware of some envious stares from the other jocks. Zai indeed had a pass, so they rode one of the elevators up to the core of the huge, rotating can that was the NYUp platform. Here, thickly planted hydroponic tubes turned the hub into a jungle of leaves, fruits, and vegetables in the hot, bright glare of Sol. In the green-gold light filtering through the leaves, they drank their beer and Zai pulled him to her, stripping him out of his singlesuit with casual, lustful purpose, her grin easy and bright with sex.
It didn't work. Not really. It was there, between them, the slow spin of the planets, the cans, the ships and shuttles and junk.
"Your mind's not on your work, sweetheart.” Zai drifted with her arms around his waist, her cheek against his hip. “Sorry I couldn't distract you."
"It wasn't you.” Jeri's face was on fire, figured he was probably blushing clear down to his toes. Felt so ... so... “I just...” He shook his head because how could you explain?
"Hey, when you get focused...” Zai pushed off, drifted a scant meter looking for her singlesuit, ... “look me up.” She snagged it and kicked off toward the elevator, her singlesuit trailing from one hand.
Jeri stared after her, a metallic taste in his mouth. Pulled on his singlesuit, collected the empty beer bags and followed her to the elevator. He dropped down to the level where he had docked the shuttle and let it take him back to Dispatch.
* * * *
Delfinio was drifting in the center of Dispatch, his eyes glazed with seeing. He blinked to awareness as Jeri exited the shuttle, sighed and for once, didn't say anything.
"I tried to celebrate, Delfinio.” Jeri let himself drift, upside down to Delfinio's orientation. He made no move to shift and match it. “It didn't work."
Still without speaking, Delfinio did one of his rotations, ended up eye to eye with Jeri.
"You knew it wouldn't, didn't you?” Jeri swallowed. “It's like there's a wall between me and everyone else.” His voice trembled and he gulped in air, willed it to steady. “It's like I can't touch anyone. I'm not really living in their world. Like there's a sheet of glass between us.” He sucked in a breath. “What did you do to me?"
Asimov's SF, March 2007 Page 4
