"Oh, not much. Question for you: When's the last time you took the X-glide through the central district."
"Your district? You know I try to stay out of those slums. Ha ha ha!" Hacker's voice boomed into the receiver. Trzbz chuckled slightly out of politeness. He liked Hacker, a large, barrel-chested man who seemed more like a lumberjack than a city councilman. He had no fear of the administration and was usually the first to question any plans out of Malvers’s office. Trzbz usually wasn’t far behind.
"Got a little tip a little earlier, from a very interesting lady...”
“Yeah, what kind of a tip? And a lady? A lady talked to YOU?”
"Well, let's just say your favorite political opponent might be up to something."
"Yeah, what else is new?” Hacker laughed a bit, then was silent a moment, and his tone became more serious. “What kind of something?"
"Just keep an eye out for tomorrow's council e-packet. There's a proposal for a cultural center that the administrator will recommend denying."
"Malvers? What's his deal now?"
"Well, I might be sending you a plan to appear on next month's agenda. Not supposed to have it yet...”
"Yeah? How'd you get it?”
Trzbz had become accustomed to holding the receiver far from his ear when calling Hacker to compensate for his extraordinarily loud voice. "Well, let's just say it came to me in a very beautiful package."
“Hey, whatever your fantasies are, leave me out of it, would ya?” Hacker guffawed at his own humor.
“Yeah, yeah. Anyway, I'll send it to you. Your call. Maybe you want to buzz it. Or feed it to your drinking buddy at the Star Runner.”
Hacker boomed another laugh. He'd never had a drop to drink with MaBrown, but he did feed tips to the reporter. He could take or leave MaBrown, but he knew Malvers bristled at any leaked information, so he was happy to oblige. Of course that led many to question how close they were.
“Oh, and bear in mind, it’s not so much the plans themselves, but who is behind them. Malvers has been keeping some pretty interesting company lately.” Trzbz emphasized the word company, which was not lost on the largest city council member. "See you at council," Trzbz said, clicking off the receiver with a self-satisfied grin.
***
"Whoa," MaBrown mumbled to himself, as he often did while he worked. The terminal on his desk was surrounded by a clutter of paper, disks, drives, data files, holodata, recordings. It was as if the screen grew out of the piles of papers and other junk. Other reporters sometimes guessed what color MaBrown’s desk might actually be.
He’d spent all morning scanning the buzz — much like the internet of Old Earth, only more a continual data stream. For the uninitiated (there always was someone from outlying worlds who needed to be taught how to use such modern technology) it could be an intimidating mess of seeming non-sense. Actually learning where to look and how took some practice.
Taylin rarely stopped at his desk; he usually had a difficult time flagging her down. MaBrown’s reaction caused her to stop at his desk, leaning over his shoulder to see what he was reacting to. Luckily for MaBrown then, he finally had something to show and wasn’t idly reacting to the latest viral XR racing video.
"What is it?"
"Buzz going on about council tomorrow," MaBrown said in a half-distracted tone.
"What buzz?"
"Malvers is up to something. Looks like they’re going to recommend denial on a land project in the central district.”
MaBrown turned to Taylin, spinning in his chair. “They need development in that area like a fish needs water. It’s raising some pretty strong suspicions.”
Taylin nodded. “Hard to see what would be controversial about a cultural center. What’s the source?”
"Alderman Trzbz. But that's tracing back. Hacker started the thread. It's been weaving ever since."
Taylin laughed, an abrupt, percussive honk. MaBrown liked it. It was a nice contrast to her usual intense glare.
"See what you can find—"
MaBrown cut her off. "Receiving a straight line from — yep, it's Hacker. I'll get something."
“Get me a brief pronto, and plan to have a story mapped out before the council meeting tomorrow.”
"Done,” MaBrown said, picking up his receiver. “Alderman Hacker? How's my favorite drinking buddy?"
Chapter 26
"Hey, I got a post!" Isellia said the next morning, after waking from one of the longest slumbers she’d had in some time. She'd tried to nap in the office of registration as passersby stepped over her to get to the desk and the clerks eyed her with no small amount of annoyance. Finally they admitted to her that “it’ll be just a bit” actually meant “you’ll hear from us tomorrow,” so she made her way back to the ship and collapsed onto her bunk, dead to the world until the following morning.
She pulled up the screen on the terminal that allowed her to view her new mail, waving Joey over so she could show someone else. Fortunately one of the benefits of most docking bays is that they’re typically hooked up with free access to the buzz, meaning Isellia could finally get her fix. She tapped the terminal excitedly as she looked around the bridge.
“What’s up?”
“My entrance has been approved! And, I got an invitation to the XR Farven Point Invite Ball. Here, listen — ‘All racers are welcome, bring a guest. To Isellia, pilot of the... Robot Awareness?!
She turned to shout out toward the rest of the ship. “Robot!”
The robot had just unplugged itself from its regeneration terminal. "State your request."
"I'll tell you what my request is! What the hell did you call my ship?”
"Robot Awareness. The designation appears on the form."
"I know what it says! Why did you call it that?"
"Incorrect. Isellia chose the designation."
"I what?! You servo brain! I never chose that!”
"Incorrect. Isellia responded to inquiries regarding designation."
"What? When?"
“During a regeneration interval.”
“You did tell him to make something up, I think,” Joey said.
“Bearinghead! I was sleeping! I didn't know what you were asking me. And that’s what you came up with?”
“Isellia is unable to respond to inquiries during regeneration mode. Noted. Have a nice day.”
“‘Have a nice day?’... Argh!" Isellia slammed the console with her fist, rattling several items on its surface. Joey jumped a little at the outburst.
"Would Isellia care to submit an amendment to the designation?"
"Yes, I would! How long does that take?"
"Six to eight weeks, pending approval.”
“Six to eight— Oh whatever. Fine. It’s fine. Robot Awareness it is, I guess. As long as I cross the finish line in first, who cares what it says on the side? You," Isellia said, turning to Joey. "Get ready quick. I've got a ship to get ready for tomorrow's dry run, and new clothes to get for the ball tonight."
"New clothes?" Joey asked, wiping the crust out of his eyes. "What's wrong with what you got on?"
“Are you defective? Do you want me to wear a flight suit to a ball?”
Joey shrugged. Everyone on the colony wore pretty much the same clothes no matter the occasion — the idea of dressing up for something was somewhat foreign to him, other than on holo-serials. “Um, I guess not...”
“Do you even know what a ball is?”
Joey shook his head.
"Clothing appears to be functioning within operational parameters. Isellia wishes to upgrade exterior chassis.”
Isellia pointed at the robot. “Yeah, like the robot says. An exterior upgrade whatever. Well, let’s go go go!” Joey once again found himself being dragged by the arm toward some shop in which he had no interest.
***
MaBrown pulled out his latest notebook as the room around the council chamber buzzed with activity. It was a wide, round room with silver throne-like chairs on hovering platf
orms that rose when the administrator offered the floor to one of the council members. Hamyor Malvers sat on a platform larger than the others in the middle of the congregation, where he would conduct the meeting. Behind the circle sat rows of mahogany benches where the audience sat.
Malvers eyed the council and the gathered crowd with his usual air of confidence, but MaBrown couldn’t help but note a hint of nervousness. Perhaps it was the way his eyes darted around the room a little more quickly than usual, or the way he studied a council member’s face with just a little extra touch of scrutiny. MaBrown had worked with Malvers for years now; he knew him well enough to know when he was nervous.
MaBrown knew the administrator had plenty to be nervous about. Thanks to the documents Trzbz had sent him, he had plenty of documentation for what could be one of the biggest stories of the year. Maybe his career. Malvers was a careful politician, and even when the proverbial shit hit the fan, he always seemed to keep himself on the periphery. He was manipulative, cunning, smart and he worded everything so carefully that it was hard to catch him in a lie. He had a penchant for bending the rules just before the breaking point.
But not this time. This time, he had the evidence in front of him. He would be literally holding the plans in his hand that Malvers would lie about. If what he thought was going to happen happened, one of the council members would call him out on it. On the council floor. It would be an embarrassment, not one Malvers would recover from. MaBrown would have his story.
If he’d only gotten it sooner. Now the rest of the press would have it, at the same time he did.
A meaty paw slapped MaBrown in the back, snapping him into the present. “Hope you’re awake for this one, Browny my boy,” said the heavy, booming voice of Hacker, followed by a hearty, outdoorsman's laugh. MaBrown managed to recover enough to smile back, giving the alderman a short flick of his finger for a wave.
Hacker composed himself and leaned over, lowering his voice to a whisper. “You see the item about the cultural center?”
MaBrown nodded. “Well, I would pay attention to that item, if I were you,” Hacker muttered as he walked toward his chair on the council floor.
MaBrown gave a knowing nod. “Oh, I know all about that one,” he said to Hacker’s back.
Hacker laughed, as he took his chair. “Of course. Nothing less from our ace Star Runner reporter!”
"The Star Runner? They always get it wrong!" said Trzbz from behind him. Trzbz wore a neutral expression when he made these jokes; anyone but MaBrown might have thought he was serious. Trzbz had become one of his better sources of information, especially on the council, and MaBrown knew that suffering Trzbz’s dry sense of humor was a necessity of getting information out of the councilman.
"Only when I get bad information, Alderman Trzbz," MaBrown said with a wink. Both Hacker and Trzbz shared a laugh.
Some of the more serious alderman entered the chambers. Some nodded to MaBrown, others ignored him. Some of them, on opposite political sides of Hacker and Trzbz, thought MaBrown was in cahoots with them. But MaBrown knew his only allegiance was to finding out the news — and if a good journalist has any bias, it’s toward those who talk versus those who don’t. It never stopped surprising him how many people never figured that out.
MaBrown looked behind him to see who had come from the public to speak. Farven Point had no shortage of residents who liked to speak on nearly every issue, whether or not what was being discussed affected them at all. Leeds, who he saw in the audience, was the loudest and boldest of them, and called the council a bunch of idiots any chance he got, on nearly any issue. He was the reason the council imposed a time limit on public comments.
But then he noticed her. Even if he hadn’t already bumped into her, the pink bangs would have caught his eye. Especially on such a beautiful young lady, MaBrown thought. She sat next to the rest of the group he’d seen in the administrator’s office. She looked bored, yet her eyes scanned the room. She wasn’t some ordinary girl, MaBrown could tell. She looked dressed for a formal occasion. Hadn’t she been wearing a flight suit before?
She looked up at him and their eyes met for just a moment before the wooden thump of a gavel from high above the council chambers silenced the room. The gavel was a touch from the days of Old Earth; Malvers seemed to prefer it to bring his meetings to order rather than the light dimmers some meeting chairs preferred these days.
"I'd like to call to order this meeting of the common council," Malvers’s nasally voice echoed into the microphone. "All rise..."
***
"How long do we have to be here?" Isellia whispered, tugging at Porter's shirt. The meeting had gone on for an hour already.
"Youse council members better get crackin'! Don't none of youse know what you're doin'? It's about time this council came up with some ideas for this...” Leeds droned on. Some council members, such as Hacker, watched Leeds rant on, while others didn’t even turn their platform toward him. That’s not to say that Hacker was a supporter of Leeds. Sometimes the overzealous council member said things to goad Leeds into spewing further insults. He seems to take particular delight in watching Leeds get kicked out of meetings, something that happened often when Leeds went overboard.
“We’ll be here as long as it takes,” Porter said in a whisper. “Pay attention, you might learn something.”
"Patience," Kenpur said, his voice naturally quiet.
"Excuse me, Leeds. Excuse me!” Malvers banged in his gavel. “I would have you speak to the issue at hand, sir.”
"I am speaking to the issue. I can speak to any issue you want! You phoney baloney council members—"
"Leeds!"
"Is this going to go on? They're not even talking about anything! And I have to get to the XR ball!"
Her voice carried louder than she’d intended, and several of the council members turned in their seats and looked back at her. Isellia slid down the wooden bench as her face reddened. Most of them turned their attention back to Leeds, or to the ceiling, where it had been before.
“See, even she doesn’t want to listen to you phoney baloneys—“
“Leeds!” Malvers yelled, banging his gavel.
"We have many items to go,” Porter whispered to her as Leeds continued to rant. “Ours is agenda item No. 24. We're only on No. 6."
Isellia sighed and rolled her eyes, crossing her arms and pouting.
"You can go in half an hour," Porter said with a breath of exasperation.
“Kay,” Isellia folded her arms in front of her, imagining herself at the ball to alleviate her boredom.
The expression on Porter’s face showed the same boredom as Isellia. He looked over at Joey, who seemed to be totally enthralled. Porter wondered what it was exactly about a room of people talking about nothing that captured his attention, but it was clear by the wide eyes with which he watched the proceedings that his interest had been captured.
***
"Next item on the agenda, a request for a conditional use permit at the former Welling site in the 33rd District to construct a cultural center. Our community development agent informs us that the submitted site plan doesn’t fit the recommended specifications for this site, therefore we are recommending denial of this measure. His denial information is in your buzz packet. Questions from the council?”
Alderman Razlin, who barely spoke at council meetings and seemed only to exist to move motions to approval, raised her hand. “So moved.”
“The motion to deny has been made by Alderman Razlin,” Malvers said. “Do I hear a second?
"Administrator?" Trzbz raised his hand with bravado.
“Alderman Trzbz seconds the mo—“
"No sir, I have objections—"
"Right now we're calling for a second. Do I hear a second?"
Alderman Winslow raised his hand.
“We “have a motion on the floor by Razlin, seconded by Winslow. alderman Trzbz, you’d like to make a comment. You may do so.”
A smile caught the
corner of Celia’s lips.
"Yes, I would. It appears—"
"Alderman Trzbz, if you could use the elevation button, as I ask you to at every council session."
"Oh right," Trzbz said, drawing a little laughter from the audience. He flicked a red switch on his chair and it raised above the heads of the other Aldermen, floating and rotating so that eventually it had faced each part of the oval circle of alderman, as well as the audience seating and the press box.
"Thank you administrator. Some of us are old-timers, and remember the old days without such fancy contraptions."
He smiled awkwardly at his own joke, which drew a few chuckles and eye rolls alike. The administrator rolled his eyes, used to the jokes about his age. Malvers was the youngest administrator to ever take the position, and many of the older aldermen didn't let him forget it.
"If you would, alderman," the administrator said, motioning for him to continue.
"As I was saying, I wonder how many of my fellow aldermen know what exactly it is they're voting on? I’ve checked with the specifications for this cultural center, and this project seems to meet every spec we have. Or at least we had, until a few modifications seemed to be made recently. Such as this minimum height restriction? Do you see that in your packet? That was several stories lower in this zoning district, until last Monday, that is. Funny how it was changed to just one story above what the cultural center would be.”
Many of the council members shifted in their chairs, and some exchanged muted grumblings between themselves.
“Mr. Trzbz, those were planned changes we intended to make all along,” Malvers said, who even those in the back could see was turning red with anger. “The timing with the cultural center is purely coincidental. Now then, can we have a vote—“
“I doubt it,” Trzbz continued. “But it might interest my fellow council members to know that, it seems, the administrator has other plans for this site. I’ve received some plans, by a special courier —” the alderman slyly eyed the black clothed woman sitting in the audience “— that show a project drawn up for that same site by a company called Liquid. Now I don’t know how many of you are aware of this, but Liquid is a holding company with ties to Company C.”
Robot Awareness: Special Edition Page 29
