Sirius Academy (Jezebel's Ladder)

by Scott Rhine

  Zeiss coughed. “Don’t even joke about that.”

  The VR theater felt like a family holiday gathering.

  At their usual meal time, Sojiro announced, “We have a special movie for the meal, in honor of our recently liberated hostess.”

  At the distinctive opening music, everyone cheered. Even the reserved Zeiss confessed, “I loved him in this movie.”

  Carrying a bowl of chips, Red felt the realization like a blow to her gut. She collapsed on the sofa when she heard the voice over.

  “This is the limited edition with commentary by Ambassador Hollis himself,” Sojiro explained. “The label says it’s a studio master copy.”

  Red wanted to say that she’d been there when he recorded it for the anniversary edition. That day had been magical. Anytime she wanted to remember her father in his prime, she listened to it with no video. “Where did you find it?” she mumbled.

  “Risa found it in your duffle,” admitted the Japanese student. “It’s the only thing you brought other than your clothes or freezer. We figured it had to be your favorite. You look a little pale, girlfriend.”

  It felt like she was losing her father all over again. “I have to go to the bathroom.” She ran to the toilets and threw up the couple pieces of popcorn she’d eaten.

  ****

  After Jezebel’s death, Benny Hollis retreated to LA. Grandpa Bernie stayed with them, as did Uncle Tan. For months, Benny couldn’t take care of himself.

  She recalled the last conversation she’d had with the legend that fine May evening just after her sixteenth birthday.

  Mira slammed the front door and he looked up from his copy of Variety magazine. “What’s up, Kitten? How was your flying lesson with the Colonel?”

  “I don’t care about flying anymore,” she said, stomping past. Mira had learned to fly a Piper Cub at fourteen and nagged her parents for years to move up to jet aircraft. Her father finally caved in when a former astronaut and friend of the family offered to teach the girl.

  When they heard the bedroom door slam, the former star raised an eyebrow at his father, who’d been watching the TV on mute. “I don’t do estrogen,” said the retired director, removing an unlit cigar from his mouth. “That’s your department.”

  Benny put down his magazine and crept down the hall to her room. He could hear her sobbing uncontrollably inside. Tan, already there, asked, “Shall I bake cookies?”

  Her father sighed. “I’m guessing this one’s beyond the powers of dessert to cure.” He tapped on the door. “Kitten, can I come in?”

  The wailing got louder. “I’ll take that as a yes.” Sitting on the edge of her bed, he asked, “Who’s the boy?”

  “Todd.”

  “That senior boy you’ve been tutoring in math?”

  “You say that like you think he’s too old for me. You were twelve years older than Mom.”

  “I’m not the enemy. I’ve watched him flirt with you for months and kept silent. What’s the problem?”

  “He’s going to his graduation party with Jenny big-tits.”

  “He’s an idiot. You’re the smartest, prettiest girl at that school. Maybe the security checks turned him off.”

  “(Sniff) After what I did for him . . .”

  “Did he touch you?” Benny asked in panic.

  “No!” Mira replied, just a little disappointed. “I took his midterm exam for him!”

  Benny raised an eyebrow and clamped his lips shut.

  “No lecture about morals?” she demanded.

  He snorted. “Sometimes there’s a higher law. I’ve bent my share in the name of love and the greater good. I won’t be a hypocrite and tell you otherwise. Todd will pay the price sooner or later.”

  “He tasted so good: tiramisu, layers of cake, coffee, and whipped cream.”

  “Sometimes that’s not what we need,” Benny replied, eyes distant. “You want me to fry him now? Make him regret he was born? Throw you a bigger party so no one goes to his?”

  “I’m not going to graduation,” she declared.

  “Nothing would induce you? Claudette will be coming in tomorrow night. It’d be a shame to disappoint her.”

  “I want a boob job.”

  “Absolutely not! Nothing permanent till you’re twenty-one,” he insisted. “I wish your mother were here for this. You’re all grown up now.”

  “I’m too flat; boys don’t see me. My hair isn’t even true blonde. It looks dirty.”

  He stroked her long, silky hair. “Their loss, Kitten; you’re always beautiful beyond compare.”

  But she was convinced he was seeing Jezebel instead.

  “Could you leave me alone for a while?” Mira demanded. She cried herself to sleep.

  ****

  Claudette sat beside Mira on the bed. The girl sensed her with empathy before she opened her eyes—pecan muffins and the smell of a leather saddle. “We didn’t expect you until four at the airport. Did I sleep in?”

  The brunette starlet, her father’s oldest friend, looked like hell. She hadn’t slept. “They called me last night. I flew in to tell you.”

  Mira expanded her extra senses to fill the house. “Where’s Dad?”

  From her aunt’s body language and the hug, Mira knew. “He’s gone?”

  “It hit Associated Press twenty minutes ago. The Movie Channel is already planning a retrospective of his films and speeches.”

  “So everyone knew before me?”

  “I wanted to be the one to tell you, darlin’.”

  “What happened?”

  “Tan took him to the hospital just after one. He suffered from disorientation, tremors, and then his language centers scrambled. While I was in the air to get here, his heart just stopped beating.”

  “Did he suffer?” was all Mira could think to ask.

  “Not like my Elias, no,” said the woman from Texas. “He was scheduled to get a pacemaker in three days. He held off until your graduation. It was a risky procedure and he wanted to celebrate with you.”

  They cried together for several minutes.

  Eventually, Mira sobbed, “His last words to me were ‘you’re all grown up, Kitten.’ I’m not, damn him.”

  “It’s not your fault, baby girl. Psi-bonding is closely regulated now for just this reason. Both Trina and Daniel have almost died a few times because of their link,” Claudette said, stroking her back. “People who love each other that much don’t last long without the other. He couldn’t hold on anymore.”

  “He’s been different the last year, like he was missing a hand.”

  “No, both arms. He was the legs, did the lifting and kept the balance. She was the arms and pointed the direction. The reason your daddy let you get away with anything was her. She always had some half-baked plan and he carried it out. Together, they worked.”

  Standing, Claudette said, “Help me pick out some clothes for people to remember him in.” There was no contest, really. Together, they decided on his wedding tux.

  “Your Grandma Rebecca and her latest husband will be here in two days for services. Washington called and wants the funeral there.”

  Mira shook her head. “Mom is buried here. He visited every Sunday.”

  A few minutes later, the girl complained, “Even the president knew he was dead before I did.”

  As if to punctuate this message, they heard Tan shouting from down the hall, “You can’t go in there. You have no right!”

  Military guards flooded the residence, searching for something.

  Claudette whispered, “Go to my car. Don’t say a word to anyone.”

  The starlet joined the girl a quarter of an hour later. “They wanted to act before the will’s read and someone could legally stop them. They just figured out the master index page went blank.”

  “That happens when the primary reader dies holding it,” Mira noted. “He didn’t store it in the UN vault; he didn’t trust them anymore.”

  “Well, there won’t ever be another,” the starlet observ
ed.

  Except me, thought Mira.

  ****

  Mira wore a veil at her father’s viewing to cover her sleep-deprived eyes and help screen her from the flash photos. She complained, “There are a lot of fake mourners here. Several threatened him and called him nasty things in public, especially the sheik.”

  “Well now he’s beatified,” joked Claudette. Her psychiatrist and several bodyguards stood behind them.

  “If he’d had this many supporters in life, he’d have reached the artifact before he died. If people were honest we’d succeed.”

  Claudette leaned the girl’s head against her chest as they gazed down at the open coffin. “They want to honor him; even as an enemy, he had integrity. You don’t have to do right to know right. Hollis was a class act.”

  Reporters buzzed and cameras flashed as a guard pulled the curtain. “None of those photos will show up,” Mira mumbled. “I have my media blocker on.”

  “They’re giving him head-of-state treatment.” They stared into the coffin until Grandpa Bernie had to sit down. “Daniel can’t come—too many people here. Rebecca went to meet Trina at the airport.”

  “Bloody hell, I wish you’d asked me,” said Grandpa.

  “Dirty old man,” Claudette chastised.

  The old director shook his head. “That poor girl flew halfway around the world, and Rebecca won’t let her come to the funeral. My ex is convinced Trina had a hand in killing her boy.”

  “You know that’s bogus,” the girl protested.

  “Doesn’t matter,” croaked the old man. “I heard Rebecca complaining on the phone. She’s hurt and filed a no-confidence vote against Daniel.”

  “She doesn’t have that authority,” accused Claudette.

  “She has voting rights on Mira’s 2 percent of the company stock and can cause quite a bowel obstruction,” he insisted.

  “Daniel would have to show up for the vote,” said the starlet, wheels turning. “He can’t, but they gave Trina power of attorney.”

  One of the guards cleared his throat. “Ma’am, I overheard something about the FBI and an open warrant against Miss Horvath.”

  Claudette kissed the girl on the forehead. “Sorry, baby, I’ve got to go prevent a war.”

  When she was alone with her grandfather, Mira asked, “Why is Rebecca so bitter?”

  Her grandfather said, “Your father had symptoms of the syndrome for the past three years. He’s been hiding it from all of us. Rebecca wanted her boy to be president. Jez and her ‘scatter-brained’ plans took her boy too soon.”

  “He hated politics,” Mira insisted.

  “But he was good at it. Anyone would have voted for him after Jez’s funeral.”

  “He was cotton candy,” agreed the girl. “What do I do now?”

  “Well, legally, your grandma has custody,” explained the director.

  “Don’t you want me?”

  “I’ve got cancer again, pumpkin. In another couple weeks, I’ll be back in the hospital.” She collapsed inward with the grief. “Don’t be like that. I’ve lasted too long already.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “A parent should never outlast his kids. My lawyer, Rubin, will help you with whatever you need if you decide you can’t take her anymore. That and the Swiss bank account are my final gifts to you,” he offered. “But come the fall, you’re going to college, young lady. It’s the only condition on your trust.”

  She hugged Bernie Hollis until he said, “Excuse me, I need to get to the bathroom.”

  When she was alone, she saw the apparition. It took her father’s form, but the psi-print was all wrong. “You’re the artifact,” she said, calmly.

  “You are the last key.”

  “No pressure.”

  “Why haven’t you claimed your inheritance yet?” it asked.

  It took a moment for her to respond. “We’re trying.”

  “When you fade, I must leave,” it said, vanishing.

  Mira’s time was over. It was time for Red to take action or her parents had died for nothing. She took the survival knife from its hiding place. She removed the veil, held her ponytail steady, and sliced it off above the band. Placing the bundle of hair in the casket, she said, “You always loved it more than I did, Dad. Thank you for staying with me for as long as you did.”

  Lastly, she put the heavy veil back on to hide the removal.

  ****

  Back at the Hollywood house, Tan had a meal set up for the family and close friends. PJ Smith shook Mira’s hand and offered condolences. Amy Smith looked nice, like a mom out of a fifties show, even after having four girls. By contrast, the head of technology for Fortune Aerospace was bald and had a potbelly. Years of stress and boredom fought in his face. He wasn’t cut out to be an administrator, but he’d been the only one with the qualifications.

  When Mira wandered to the kitchen for a break, Smith followed. So the others in the next room couldn’t hear it, he said, “You’re a great kid and I appreciate the math help you’ve been giving the theory guys. But you’re not looking so hot. In fact, if you were one of my kids, I’d admit you for suicide watch.” That got a reaction. “I know the stare. Your parents pulled me out of a dark place and gave me a job, the best ever. Anything I can do? I mean anything.”

  She could feel his sincerity.

  “You can’t tell anyone else,” Mira insisted.

  He agreed. That’s when the whole plot spilled out. He didn’t interrupt; he just listened until she was finished.

  Smith replied, “I’ll do it. You sign the authorizations M R Hollis. That’s ambiguous enough that they’ll think your dad signed them before he died—his last request. Amy will push them through as a tribute. I’ll need to tell her some of it.”

  Mira nodded.

  “Could you do me a favor?” asked PJ. “Mary, my second girl, is about your age. There’s an exclusive finishing school she’s dying to attend, but my blood’s not blue enough. If we’re going to fool Rebecca, she could take your place in Paris.”

  “That’s not a favor, it’s a gift,” she insisted. “And it’s too dangerous.”

  “Mary’s had high security her whole life, just like you. But I think the stakes are high enough that we have to risk it, for all our sakes.”

  “Do you think we have a chance?”

  He smiled. “There’s a reason your father named you Miracle.”

  Chapter 14 – Analysis

  Sunday night, at 0400, security knocked on Zeiss’s door. Commander Taggart himself stood in front of the peephole. “Yes, sir?” said the TA in plaid bottoms and a T-shirt that displayed ‘and God said’ followed by the equations for ‘let there be light’.

  “Mr. Z, did you reserve a simulation room for the entire day and night?”

  The teacher wiped his face. “Yeah. Um . . . in case Auckland’s roommate locked him out again. What’s wrong?”

  “There’s an enormous power drain coming from the area. The computations have pulled in nearly every machine we have. The air conditioners are spiking and the costs aren’t covered by the fifty dollar deposit.”

  He was awake now. “Shut it down.”

  “We can’t get in, sir. It’s sealed under a security level so high I can’t even read the level,” said the head guard, polite but unhappy. “We were going to use the fire-safety override but we wanted to come to you first since your department is paying for it.”

  “I know who it must be. I’ll take care of it right away.”

  As the two men jogged to the simulation room that had been their cinema, Zeiss asked, “Out of curiosity, how many money are we talking for the compute time?”

  “Each hour it’s racking up more than I make in a month, sir.”

  The TA ran the rest of the way. When he reached the door, Zeiss badged in and told the guard, “Wait out here, please.” He left the door ajar.

  “Miss Benson?” he said politely. When she didn’t reply, he yelled, “Red!”

  Startled, she ra
ised her goggles up. “What are you doing here?” After a pause, she added, “in your pajamas.”

  “Suspend,” he called. As the room’s nominal owner, the room obeyed. “What’s so important that you stayed up all night?”

  She wavered a little, lack of sleep catching up. “After the party, I felt guilty that I hadn’t done anything on the project in weeks. We need another person this semester if we’re going to make the deadline. I thought I’d bring up the new interface Sojiro built for me.”

  “Are you okay, Red?”

  “Yes. A little stressed, that’s all.”

  “You don’t need to figure this out tonight,” he said trying to sooth her. “All you need to do is eat, sleep, and not piss off Professor Horvath.”

  She nodded. “But I can’t sleep. And this problem is big.”

  He sighed. “If I look at your problem and tell you something that you haven’t found on your own tonight, will you agree to go to bed?”

  Red handed him the VR goggles. “I don’t see how.”

  He smiled. When he put them on, the complexity took him aback. “You’re modeling over a dozen dimensions, each in its own color.”

  “Twenty-seven,” she admitted, obviously woozy.

  He stepped to the door and told the commander, “Her blood sugar’s a little low. Could you please go up and get a juice for her from the vending machine?” When Taggart raised an eyebrow, Zeiss admitted, “I need five minutes alone to talk her down. She’s doing a high-security thesis.”

  “Roger.”

  “Video surveillance: on. Audio: off,” Zeiss ordered the room. He left the video on to protect both their reputations.

  “The nodes are crew members?” he guessed when they were alone. She nodded. “The techniques are dazzling. You’re using what you learned from the Calabi Yau space modeling, but you’ve got an unbounded factorial.”

  “The simulation gets a little slow.”

  “Hah. You used up every computer on the island and my department’s discretionary budget. This is why you need a more solid grounding in the basics. First let me prove to you that you’re David against Goliath. These combinatorics get big fast. Say you’re choosing twenty-seven people from the sixty freshmen left?”