by Ian Rodgers
“SIS!”
“Did anyone find the submission confirmation code for File XDDI-077-98? I can’t remember it and the Central Bureaucracy needs it if we want to have access to the report.”
“Nope, sorry. I’m still looking for the authorization denied confirmation code so the boss can check progress on the procedure as a whole.”
“Whose bright idea was it to put the folder labeled ‘Entry Form Submission’ next to the ‘Trash Files’ app?!”
Crown Corporation’s Integrated Technologies and Services main office room dedicated to managing the Personal Mobile Network Droid and Automated Pan-Galactic Delivery Service was in a flurry of activity.
After Chairman Aunlood’s meeting with the Chairperson-Elect he had pushed his workers to try and break through the walls of red tape Central Bureaucracy had thrown up around Droid 77’s situation. He had a feeling that the experimental machine would soon be the focus of the whole galaxy and the Ranga refused to lose control of the project or any information that might be pertinent.
“I’m truly sorry for the mess, President. This issue with Droid 77 has made us all run around in a tizzy,” a sharply dressed Krona said, apologetic eyes glowing as she sorted through piles of paperwork. So much bandwidth was being used up by the office that they’d had to switch over to plastic printouts to deal with the strain.
“It’s my fault for barging in while you’re working, miss. I simply do not want to have any problems regarding Droid 77 so I’ll be overseeing what I can in person,” the CEO of Crown Corp. said with a shake of his head as he scrolled through a terminal looking through project data. Behind him Secretary Taraki stood at attention, ready for anything. Be it refreshments or more files, the Hixi would be ready.
“While I’m here, why don’t you show me how the other droids are doing,” Aunlood ordered, and an avian being hurried over.
“So far there have been no real problems. Droid 14 and 21 have suffered minor structural damage that was easily fixed by our on-call repairbeings. Droid 39 is now pink and covered in glitter because the registrar is a young female. We may need to look into the owner of Droid 69 because they have a lot of ‘unusual’ purchases.”
“Unusual? And why would we have to look into that?” Aunlood asked with a raised eye ridge. The avian who’d reported leaned in and whispered to the Chairman so none of the other employees could listen in. Green feathers turned purple and the Ranga coughed awkwardly.
“I see. Really, fifty gallons of lube? Are you sure? Who on earth would use… are we sure they’re not in the adult entertainment business?”
“Fairly certain,” the avian being said dryly, his own embarrassment clear through puffed chest feathers.
“So! What about the rest of the Droids?” Aunlood inquired as he banished the purple from his face.
“Well, we think Droid 70 was infected with a virus. It keeps making references to old, obscure media and memes from the exo-net. But none of its functions have stopped, and the droid’s owner seems to like it as it is. Lastly, Droid 85 was stolen by chop-shoppers but it was recovered by local authorities before too much was damaged.”
“Sounds like everything is going well, President. At this rate I have no doubt that Droid 77’s mishaps will be rectified quite easily,” the Krona said with a bright smile.
Her words did nothing to appease the chairman or his secretary as both of them stared goggle-eyed and open mouthed at her.
“I don’t often hold to superstitions, ma’am, but given what the Chairman Aunlood and I have dealt with so far I am inclined to believe you have just doomed us all,” Taraki said slowly as the Ranga in front of him slumped in his seat.
“Surely you’re exaggerating,” the manager began only to find herself interrupted by a scream from one of the employers in the office.
“What happened?!”
“Ma’am, sir, president, we have a problem! A big one!” A young looking plant-being cried. Her flower buds hadn’t even started to blossom yet! Why did she have to deal with this kind of pressure?!
Aunlood made a gesture and the alien walked over to his desk while she held back tears of nectar.
“I was monitoring new data incoming from Droid 77 to the Central Bureaucracy, and I’d have missed the most recent file if you hadn’t ordered us to double check everything,” she started as she clutched the information near her chest.
“And what did you find?” Aunlood was almost dreading the answer, and his employee seemed just as nervous to give it.
“Droid 77 just submitted two applications for obtaining citizenship in the Alliance. It also bypassed several checks and firewalls that make me believe that the droid has evolved into a True Intelligence. Plus, one of the applications was for it, so I make that assumption with some confidence.”
Dead silence filled the office, the chatter and hubbub drained away to be replaced with shock and awe.
The Hixi turned to the Krona. “Right now, ‘I told you so’ seems far too tame for this yuop cluster flurnk. Pardon my Myunen.”
“Contact the Privy Council Select. Let them know everything,” the Ranga ordered. He rose from his seat and wearily made to leave.
“Sir? Where are you going?”
“I have to inform the Board and shareholders about this. Not to mention I have no doubt the Chairperson-Elect will be summoning me. But before all that I want a drink. Several, in fact.”
“As for the rest of you, continue to track the situation. Taraki, make sure everybeing here gets double overtime.”
“Of course, sir,” the secretary acknowledged. “What do you want to tell your family? That you’ll be staying late?”
“If you would.” Aunlood exited the room. The Ranga seemed to have aged a decade or so in the time between receiving the information and resigning himself to it.
Activity slowly resumed, but their hearts were not in it. Every being within the office knew the galaxy was starting to change. And like it or not, they all had front row seats.
Chapter 16
“…and it seems like she’s been getting sicker every time I see her. I keep trying to bring it up but she constantly rebuffs my attempts to find out what the problem is.” Zane leaned back on the couch and gave a weary sigh. Charma looked on sympathetically from the holo-screen as her guy friend fretted over his sister.
“A lot of females feel like they have to look strong in front of males. Doesn’t matter the reason, strength needs to be at the forefront, or so they believe. Of course, public personas are different from personal ones. Your sister is probably reluctant to worry you,” the idol soothed.
“Yeah, I get that. But what can I do to get her to speak to us? Vera isn’t just worrying me, but also mom and dad with her refusal to discuss the matter,” Zane replied.
“I’m afraid I can’t say much on that matter. As an only child and growing up with few friends outside of my job I am not the being to discuss topics like this one.”
“You’re right. This is kind of depressing,” the human said with a chuckle lacking in humor.
“I’ll say. Your angst party is ruining the mood for this vid-date,” Rob retorted. The droids words were kept free of too much emotional inflection for the benefit of keeping Charma in dark about its status as a TI instead of a mere PI.
Still, Rob’s comment drew a blush from Zane’s cheeks and a flared crest from Charma. The prototype droid made a mental note to rub this latest image –saved directly to its memory-- in its friend’s face. It was far too much fun teasing the organic lovers.
“So! Did you get the chocolate ants I sent you?” Zane asked, swiftly changing the topic.
“Oh, yes! They were wonderful! I can honestly say I have never sampled something so divine before!” the Dren swooned, memories of the candy coated insects filling her head.
“You really enjoyed them, huh?”
“I did! My parents as well,” Charma said. A tiny twitch ran through her as the singer recalled the aftermath of the food tasting. She had bee
n forced to hide the few remaining boxes of the snack from her mother and father lest they devour them.
A frown tried to force itself onto her face at that memory. They were her gifts from her boyfriend! No, wait, he was just a guy friend! Yup. Nothing else!
“How about I select some ads for you two to view? I will not show any that star Charma,” Rob suggested as it took note of the Dren’s state. She soon snapped out of her thoughts.
A round of nodding later and Rob brought up a commercial for them to watch.
This shared projection had begun after Thanksgiving. Zane had asked Charma’s opinion on assorted products from the shopping guide and they had quickly discovered that Rob could show the ads on both sides of the connection, so they took advantage of it.
Zane and Charma had very different schedules, and coordinating calls was difficult even without the extreme time zone differences. But the few times the pair managed to watch something, even if it was an inane infomercial, were all the more precious for it.
“Behold, the next step in comfortable defensive fashion!” The holo-screen lit up with explosions and laser fire impacting a company logo: a diamond inside a square.
“At Raidcraft Protective Apparel, we have developed a special fabric to boost your defenses. Our special Diamond Filament Thread is made with real diamonds! Carefully liquidized, the super-dense carbon is spun into a thread-like state and treated with special chemicals to be as soft and flexible as Squidmoth Silk but still retaining its famous hardness. The Protective Garments we make with the Diamond Filament Thread are half as heavy as traditional protective vests and outfits, but are four times more resistant to physical trauma and energy and particle wave damage!” A muscled bodyguard figure appeared on screen, taking a chest full of weapons fire without a single scratch on its body or the finely made tuxedo-esque suit.
“One full suit for only 10,000 credits, or 10 square feet of fabric for 3,000 credits. Contact us now for a personalized fitting!”
“Wow! That is expensive!’ Zane whistled. “Though the option for just the fabric is nice.”
“But effective. A few of my escorts wear Raidcraft outfits. They swear by ‘em,” Charma said with a nod. “And it is way easier to buy the suit instead of purchasing the raw cloth, because unless you have special scissors and needles, you won’t make much headway in cutting and stitching any garments yourself.”
“You have bodyguards?” Zane inquired with a hint of worry. Charma wouldn’t admit it but hearing his concern made her heart beat faster.
“I have escorts,” Charma corrected. “They belong to my management firm and watch over me when I’m on the job and going from gig to gig. Nice guys. And gals.”
The Dren put a claw to her chin. “I don’t really know them all that well though. Professional distance and all that. I think one is an ex-FIST though. Has the proper bearing for it.”
“Sounds safe,” Zane hazarded. He knew little about the military, alien or otherwise, but at least Charma was in safe hands. Or paws. Or claws. Or appendages used in a protective nature.
“Indeed. So, what other kind of products are you interested in? I have some suggestions if you need anything.”
“Well, I’m not really sure. I just like watching the ads, honestly. There are just so many amazing things out in the Alliance that don’t exist here. It lets me catch a glimpse of what else is waiting for us in the stars.”
“That sounds lovely. Poetic, boring, and sappy, but lovely,” Charma said with a grin. Zane rubbed the back of his head.
“Being part of an Isolationist Enclave sounds so very difficult. You know something bigger is out there, but are unable to reach it,” the idol continued, causing the coder’s face to fall. Charma saw the morose expression and shook her head. An idea flashed into her mind with a grin spreading on her features.
“Um, Rob, was it?”
“Yes, how can I help you?” the droid inquired, addressing the Dren.
“I think I have an idea for a commercial to show Zane. Here, let me text you the info.”
A few seconds later and Rob acknowledged the message with a beep. The sound had a pleased tone to it and the catalog began to flicker as a specific ad was sought out.
“See the beauty of our galaxy! For three Standard Galactic Months, travel aboard our luxury tourist barge while seeing the majesty of deep space!”
Zane was instantly enraptured by the sights unfolding before him. Astonishing alien vistas spread out before him on the holo-screen, and whatever advanced cameras were being used imparted crisp, clear images. And they were awe inspiring.
“Look upon the 88 Celestial Wonders of the Universe, from the Alcohol Gas Clouds, to the Rainbow Nebula! The Crystal Star, a planet sized diamond, is just as awe-inspiring as the Void Whale Migrations! Our Trans-Galactic Tour packages include food and drink as well as guaranteed seating on all lifepods and escape vessels! Deals start at 400 credits!”
Swooning music filled the air and Zane kept his gaze on the video even as it faded.
“Th-that was amazing! So beautiful,” the Earth-bound being uttered. “I think I’ve heard about how our astronomers have detected the alcohol cloud and the gargantuan planet sized crystal, but it’s something else to see them, even if it was just a fleeting glimpse.”
Zane let a sigh of longing. “Have you ever seen any of these 88 Celestial Wonders, Charma?”
“A few, though mostly in passing or when I was younger. The most vivid encounter I remember was when I had a concert near the Rainbow Nebula early on in my career. It’s an extremely popular venue spot for all sorts of events. The nebula is unique because it’s laced with natural psychic energy, causing it to be seen in all colors capable of being observed by a species. It was beautiful,” the idol said with a smile at the memory.
“I felt like my music was even better when I sang there. I believe I still have a recording of the event somewhere. I’ll send it to you, if you’d like.”
“That would be amazing! Thank you, Charma,” Zane said with a wide, eager grin. “I really enjoyed ‘Nebula Lover,’ the tune and lyrics were hypnotic. I can’t get enough of your voice! I’ve told you it’s amazing, right?”
“You have. Five times or so, in fact,” Charma said with a giggle. His compliments always managed to touch her heart with their sincerity.
Her statement followed up by the coquettish giggle gave Zane’s face a nice red coloring. He coughed to turn the topic to a safer, less embarrassing one.
“Well, I have some work to do before I turn in for the evening over here. I hate to hang up, but it looks like our time is close to ending,” Zane said sadly with a glance at the clock on his wall.
“Ah, you’re right,” Charma said slowly. “I should probably double check my songwriting as well. Don’t want to find any errors, do I?”
The two exchanged smiles before hanging up. Zane slumped in his seat on the couch once the call was over.
“I feel drained. Are you sure you’re not sucking my life force to power your relay or assorted pieces of tech?”
“No. I use a good old fashion Cool Fusion Battery. Honestly a potato would make a better battery than your saggy pile of meat you call a body,” Rob retorted.
“That’s a relief. Did not want to find out I had to put down a robot invasion because you liked the taste of cholesterol.”
Further banter did not come as the ranch house’s doorbell suddenly rang, causing Zane to sit up in concern and confusion. Without a word Rob darted away towards the basement and hid below in the laundry room.
“Hello?” Zane asked as he answered the door. It was close to eight pm and he was not pleased to have to see who had chosen to visit this late. Nor was he looking forward to experiencing the biting cold of January. Snow had fallen earlier in the week and now everything was pristine white.
All irritation vanished and was replaced by fear when he saw who was on his doorstep. Two men in black suits partially hidden by their winter coats. Both had brown hair though on
e had a ponytail hairstyle with blue eyes.
“Ah, sorry to bother you, sir, but I’m afraid our car broke down nearby and we kind of need to be towed. Do you have a number for a repair person?” the shorter haired figure inquired.
“Um, yes, please, come in,” Zane said, stepping aside and letting the people inside out of the cold. “The number for the local mechanic is on the fridge under ‘Mike.’”
“Thank you. I have to say, you have a lovely home.”
Zane took the compliment with a nod and watched as the duo shed their coats.
Although it had been a few months, the young man still remembered the voices of the off-duty government agents who had nearly caught him and Rob picking up their delivery after Halloween.
Now both of them were inside his living room while the agent the coder remembered as the skeptical one rang up Mike’s garage. Zane wasn’t sure the older man would be open this late though. Still, couldn’t hurt to try.
“Thank you. My grandfather left it to me in his will,” Zane said to the agent who had dragged his friend out to investigate.
“Ah. My condolences.” Awkward silence settled onto the room before the agent held out his hand.
“The name’s Frank. FBI.”
Zane hesitantly took the hand and shook it. Frank blinked before smacking his forehead in realization.
“Oh, don’t worry, we’re not here to arrest you or anything!”
“Not very convincing there, Frank.” The man at the phone said. He slid his cellphone back into his pocket and walked over to join the other two.
“Look, we’re sorry to intrude. We were just passing through. My partner here wanted to take the long way around because he wanted to find the meteor crater from earlier in the summer. He’s a bit of a nerd. The name’s Jim. Hello and apologies for giving you the wrong impression.”
“Of course,” Zane said with a hint of relief.
“So what’s the situation with the tow truck?” Frank asked his comrade.
“Well, I managed to catch the person who owned the place before he left. He’ll be over here in thirty minutes or so to drag the car off for a fix up. Mr. Mike has also offered to drop us off at the motel in town. Sadly, I doubt the issue will be able to be fixed in a single day,” Jim sighed. “Marie is going to be on my case again. Stranded out in the Midwest twice in less than six months? I’ll never hear the end of it!”
