Caleb said, “You would be correct.” To Spruck, he said, “Blabbermouth rides on your ship—after my toilet.” To the rest, he said, “Everyone happy with our souvenir? Can we get to the business of testing The Belle’s cloaking? ”
Jennifer took Hee Sook by the arm and whispered in her ear. “Caleb comes off as a bit hard-hearted, but he’s really a marshmallow on the inside. Try keeping your sentences shorter around him and you’ll do fine.”
“Thank you, Jennifer. May I ask, would it be all right if I change into the other jumpsuit we purchased once we are on the ship? I find this uniform limits my individuality.”
Jennifer was somewhat dumbstruck. Natalie jumped in, “Hee Sook honey, when you’re on our ship, and Prince Charming here is on his, you can walk around naked for all we care.”
Hee Sook said, “Thank you, Natalie, but I fail to see the point in walking around naked. I am not made in the form of a pleasure model and my uniform protects my body, which reduces the chances of additional wear and tear.”
The robot who called himself Bruno could jump high enough to see over the blast walls. On his third impressive leap, he spotted a spaceship on the adjacent landing platform that one moment was there, and in a blink, was mostly gone. He informed his new partners of the phenomenon and was asked to leap again to confirm it. He leapt several more times and reported that the ship kept disappearing then reappearing.
On his sixth jump, the robot he knew to be Hee Sook, spotted his head popping above the blast wall. She sent him a burst transmission asking the purpose of his activity. He chose to ignore it.
Upon landing again, Bruno reported, “I have not seen such a ship during my dock work at Hanson, but I am told the technology exists. There are gaps in the effect. The ship needs cosmetic repair.”
Boyce said, “Boss is gonna want to know about this. Can you guys make yourselves into a ladder? I need to get a peek.”
Link, the one who shredded Hee Sook’s face on the octagon fence asked, “Ladder?”
“You know. Like a pyramid or something. So I can climb up your backs and get a look myself.”
There was a brief pause while the clique of robots silently burst channeled the question around. Link said, “We can do that.”
SEDITION
AS JADA AND Schafer waited on the commercial loading road outside the landing bays, a hover car descended, the words Ride for Jada Temple scrolled across its belly. A human sounding voice narrowly projected at Jada’s head stated the same as it came to a rest on the ground. The door opened. Jada scoped the inside. After confirming it was empty, she climbed inside. When Schafer tried to follow, the car began to close its door, saying, “My apologies, Carl Schafer, this vehicle has been hired for one Jada Temple as a single occupant. The current occupant is identified as Jada Temple.”
Jada threw her arm out to stop the door. “Hold on! Hell wit that.” She stuck a leg out. “My boy comes with or no ridee ridee for me. Sabe?”
There was a pause that lasted for roughly fifteen-seconds. The car spoke again. “Carl Schafer has been invited to join Jada Temple as a second occupant.”
As Schafer climbed in he said, “You really need to stop watching those old pirate movies. Ridee ridee? Sabe? Really?”
“Mind your biz. Disney be the best time I’s ever had, and that ride be the best ride. I’s one of the last to go before they be closin’ it down.”
“So you’ve said.”
Flying cars were expensive hardware. Like everything else shipped across the Solar System, the original ones had cost a small fortune. Though raw materials and the factories to turn those raw materials into things were coming online every week, the cost of making complicated machines remained astronomical. To commute across the city, it wasn’t uncommon for the residents of Soul to reduce their magnetic load and leap in great bounds to a destination. For the really bold, one could strap on a pair of wings and glide. To avoid chaos and collisions, strict corridors were set up for such modes of travel. As a rule, the need for having additional magnetic clothing waiting at one’s destination, made jumping about generally impractical. Most chose the various rail systems to move around the city, leaving the flying cars to the filthy rich.
After a short ride, Jada and Schafer’s hover car descended onto a rooftop parking space on the tallest tower in the city; the home of entrepreneur and financier, Philipe Dimasalang. Like Bez Hanson, Dimasalang was rich beyond measure, and as the primary visionary behind Soul, its nominal governor. By design, there was no central government or elected governing body in the Saturn System. As a colony, it was run more like a corporation. In many ways it was modeled on the British East India Company, which, at its height in 1858, with a standing army of at least three-hundred-thousand soldiers, had ruled half the British Empire. Where Bez Hanson was the father of the colony and its nominal leader/moral authority, Dimasalang, or Dima, was a viceroy. As the one who had built the bulk of the gas mining and chemical operations on Saturn, he was the authority in Soul, yet his power remained local.
Dima’s landing deck doubled as a meticulously designed formal garden; paths and small bridges crossed flawlessly projected images of water filled with multi-colored carp. A certain heaviness, a gaudiness in the architecture, somewhat spoiled the grandeur. Gold, or material designed to look like it, was used extensively.
A regal looking male robot dressed in a formal robe decorated in a Japanese motif, stood on the landing deck to greet Jada and Schafer. As they stepped out of the hover car, the engines of the flying machine settled down to an idle then cut off.
Jada took in the robot. “Hey, I knows yo all be lookin’ alike and shit, but wasn’t yo at the auction?”
The bot ignored the question, instead saying, “Good day, Jada Temple, Carl Schafer. I am known as Shu. Welcome to Clifftop. Please leave your weapons in the car, they will remain there during your visit.” After they reluctantly followed the instruction, he continued, “I am instructed to escort you to the private residence. Mr. Schafer, you will find refreshment provided in the conservatory while the master speaks with Ms. Temple.”
As the robot led the way, Jada stood still. “Hold up. Likes I be sayin’ when we gots in the car, Mr. Schafer be goin’ where I be goin’, got it?”
Shu turned and offered a smile that remained frozen on its face for five-seconds. The face became serene as an answer to a silent query hit the robot’s sensors. “The master wishes to broach a delicate subject, Ms. Temple. Should what you hear from him strike you as having some value, and should you choose to act upon it, you may bring Mr. Schafer into the meeting. It won’t take but a moment to bring him up to speed.”
Jada looked at Schafer, her eyes asking, what do you think?
Schafer shrugged. “Fine by me. I’m sure the refreshments are worth the wait.”
Shu guided them to the edge of the roof where they entered a glass exterior elevator providing a sweeping view of the industrial city and its nano bag atmosphere. The false Sun sat at three o’clock, lording over an azure sky dotted with soft white cumulous clouds. An image of a V-formation of migrating birds passed over a variety of hover cars, all neatly going about their business with flawless cohesion. Not for the first time did Jada reconsider her vocation. But then, how was she to gain the riches to achieve a view like this? Perhaps Dima would tell her.
They descended one floor. The doors opened to a vast, opulent lobby with Grecian columns clashing with huge medieval tapestries and gold accents. At its center sat a statue of Buddha in the Indonesian style. It was of course painted gold. Jada thought, They is no way that thing is solid real. No way to fly that out here. As they exited, a female robot, dressed in a dense gold-threaded robe in the style of Shu’s, said, “Mr. Schafer, may I ask that you step this way?” She guided Schafer into a room filled with mirrors, Venetian style chandeliers, tiered crystal candelabra, and at its center, a mirror-coated piano.
Jada watched Schafer step into the room, his head angling all over, taking it in. The fema
le bot said to Schafer, “I can offer any refreshment that you might desire”
Schafer put a finger on a piano key, striking it.
The bot moved to intervene. “Would you like me to play for you?”
Shu extended an arm forward. “This way, Ms. Temple. The Master will greet you in his library.”
Jada and Shu walked across the lobby and down a wide hallway painted with scenes of 16th and 17th Century European conquests. Spanish galleons lay at anchor off Caribbean and South American shores; Dutch merchantmen looked out over their Indonesian holdings; South Pacific Islanders greeted Captain Cook and the Beagle; British soldiers stood over a triptych of conquered peoples in India, Africa, and North America. In each scene, scientists could be seen, their bodies bent over calculations and experiments. For the educated, the hallway was a gloriously romantic ode to capitalist imperialism. For Jada Temple, the scenes were familiar in the periphery of her existence, but mostly it was just a bunch of paintings of old-time-stuff that had happened on a planet that wasn’t any of these things anymore. The images of forest and field, oceans and rivers, did affect her in one way; though she had grown up in a dense city and had little acquaintance with the natural world, the images made her miss home so profoundly that her chest ached and a lump formed in her throat.
At the end of the hallway, a huge carved wooden double door spoke of something majestic lying beyond. Shu opened the one to the right. It swung easily on well-lubricated hinges, revealing something she hadn’t laid eyes on in ages: books, real books, walls and walls of them in a room with four-meter ceilings. Shu said, “The Master will join you shortly. If you wish for refreshment, speak your desire aloud and it shall be brought to you.”
“Does I ax you or the room?”
“The room if you please.” The robot closed the door and stepped to a space adjacent to a column and stood rigid, staring at nothing.
Jada found the robot’s hanging about a bit unnerving, but she chose to consider it part of the furniture. Lavish heavy Edwardian furniture was spread over huge oriental carpets. She didn’t need to touch any of it to know in her gut it was all real. She also knew the mathematics of rocket science and the sheer volume of energy that had been required to lift all of this stuff off the planet. There were an assortment of artifacts from across the Earth, brass telescopes, animal tusks, ornate boxes and baubles — all of it perched on gold accented stands. She stepped further inside and spun around, taking it all in. The room was windowless, yet the lighting felt directed, as though a vast window was nevertheless there. In the gaps between the towers of books, paintings continued the theme of imperial conquest. As she sat in a heavy leather chair, the seat only slightly compacted under her negligible weight. It off-gassed the smell of ancient history.
“Hey,” she said to the room. “I wants an ice cream, a sundae, vanilla with fudge and caramel ribbons and strawberry, fresh whip cream, crushed peanuts, no cherry.”
A disembodied voice said, “Yes, Ms. Temple. Right away.”
“And a Coke. A cherry Coke. Not Pepsi.”
“Of course, Ms. Temple.”
While she waited, she stood again and walked to a bookshelf, pulling a random volume. Real. All real.
A man’s voice startled her. “Do you read for pleasure, Ms. Temple?”
She spun and took the man in. Dima was not tall, but he was fit looking in his silk robe. He was of Filipino origin; she knew that. She also knew that he was ninety-something-years-old—though he had stalled his aging process at something approaching his late fifties. He was very handsome; dark, fine of feature, with big brown eyes surrounded by thick black lashes that almost looked painted on. His smile was a bright white wall of perfection that at once conveyed both invitation and danger.
She said, “Course I read.”
He bowed slightly. “Forgive me.” He waved a hand at the walls. “I know it is unlikely that you have access to physical books, but do you enjoy reading fiction for instance?”
She chuckled lightly. “Everything out here a fiction of one sort or another. I don’t feels the need to pile it on by reading somebody bullshit story.”
He nodded a slight acknowledgment and casually placed his hand on a large antique globe of Earth. “The thin record I could find on you says you are an educated person, yet I note that you choose to speak Street. A curious fad if you ask me.”
“I didn’t ax you,” she said with mild indignity.
“Perhaps you enjoy technical manuals?”
Jada stepped closer to the chair, putting it between herself and her host. “Why you invite me here, Mr. Dimasalang? You gotta have other folk like yourself to discuss books wit.”
“Dima. Please call me Dima.” He extended a hand indicating the seat in front of her. “Sit down again, won’t you? Your ice cream sundae will arrive in a moment.”
She stepped around the chair and sat. He chose a chair opposite her. Another female robot, dressed similarly to the one who had escorted Schafer, stepped through a bookcase door carrying a gold tray elaborately laid out with the fixings for an ice cream sundae, the ice cream itself nestled in a glass boat.
“Ah, and here it is.” Dima smiled with the pleasure of a person who has everything he needs at his fingertips.
There was also an iced-Coke in an old-fashioned soda fountain glass, complete with striped straw. The bot set the tray next to Jada, turned and retreated once more behind the bookcase. Jada didn’t hesitate to assemble her confection and dig in.
Dima crossed his legs and sat back to observe her. Finally he said, “How do you find existing out here, Ms. Temple?”
“Say again?”
“Is it working for you? Life out here? Are you satisfied with the realm of possibilities?”
Jada cocked an eyebrow. “Workin’ for me?” She looked around the room. “Seem to be workin’ for you. Why’m I here?”
Dima smiled and sighed through his nose. “Very well, cut to the chase it is. Let’s talk about chaos, shall we?”
Jada shrugged while stuffing in a mouthful. “Yo show.”
Dima’s face took on a serious air. “It is my opinion that our new home has devolved into anarchy, a place where nihilism is the true ruler. We tell ourselves that we have rules, a code to live by, but really we are the Wild West as it once was in America. The governing agreement that was America didn’t stand long for its wild west. Like its British parent did with its vast empire, America civilized it’s unruly parts rather quickly.” He paused, waiting for her to join the conversation.
Jada looked up from her Sundae and took a slurp from her Coke. “So? Who be givin’ a shit about that?”
Dima folded his fingers together and tapped his thumb tips. “Forgive me. I am being condescending. Let me just say that I think there’s a better way.” He rested his arms on the chair. “I’ve invited you here, because I believe that you, and your ilk, are well suited to help me achieve it.”
“Ilk?”
“Persons who are, like yourself, engaged in…collecting things gained by unconventional methods.”
Jada set her sundae down, wiped her mouth, and crossed her legs in a languid fashion, making certain that the movement showed that there was plenty of strength there. “Everything be unconventional here.” She looked at him just past his eyes. “How you hear about me, Dima?” She spoke his name with clear discomfort. Even for Jada, using such a casual nickname with such a powerful person felt weird.
He smiled with the comfort of a beast that knew its prey wasn’t going anywhere. “I’m sorry, your group’s activities aren’t as discreet as you wish them to be. In order to gain…” he casually cast his hand to indicate the room, but the gesture was really meant to encompass his entire empire, “…what I’ve gained. I make it part of my business to be aware of what’s going on in the…” he pointed at the floor., “…underworld, so to speak.” His eyes settled hard on hers, awaiting a reaction.
Jada kept her posture casual, but inside she could feel her core coiling like
a wound rubber band. She and her people had worked hard for their anonymity, protected it as their most important, and frankly critical asset. She had assumed that this would be about the robot auction, the legality or at the very least acceptableness of which, was quite gray. If Dima knew enough about her ilk to request a specific audience with her, then she and her ilk had failed. Not that she would tell him that. She kept her eyes steady and slurped the Coke again. “Yo be sayin', a better way. A better way for what?”
Dima attempted to look sympathetic. “Let me return to my original query. May I ask, are you happy?”
“What kinda question be that?”
He frowned slightly; her choice to speak so poorly was an itch he couldn’t scratch. “To choose the best way of explaining my thoughts it would help if you answered my question. Are you? Happy?”
Without being conscious of it, Jada crossed her arms over her chest and crossed her legs tighter. “Sometimes.”
“On a scale of one to ten, what number would best indicate how happy you are most of the time?”
“Seriously? You also be a shrink?”
“Indulge me.”
Jada made an actual effort to consider it. “Four. No, five. OK?”
For a fleeting moment, Dima appeared genuinely aggrieved. “I’m sorry. Let’s assume that like all humans, you overestimate in order to appear normal. I would suggest that you’re really a three, maybe even a two. That’s not very happy.”
Jada stuck out her chin. “You know, fuck you. You ain’t knowin' me.”
Dima smiled and nodded apologetically. He stood to slowly walk around the room, passing Shu and briefly giving the robot a glance. “You are of course correct. I don’t know you. But I do know this; the people who came out to this faraway place are, for the most part, deeply unhappy. To begin with, it’s hard. Life here, no matter how many gadgets we have or recreational spaces to make it easier, is hard. Very. Second, we are detached from the womb that is Earth. We had only just begun to heal the damage we as a species had wrought. We had taken life on our planet, including ourselves, to the edge of extinction. For all its inhumanity, the Chinese way allowed us to proudly breathe deeply and embrace Earth for the life-force she is. Their infant stage AI gave us the tools to claw back our environment—but then, as we all know, it grew up.”
Pirates of Saturn (The Saturn Series Book 2) Page 8
