Starlight's Edge

by Susan Waggoner

  So Zee chose an aqua keyboard with starlight overtones and watched as a stream of something pale that seemed neither solid nor liquid poured out of the corner of the menu, expanded into a ball of mist covering the tabletop, then suddenly contracted, leaving a lovely, curving keyboard behind. Within minutes, Zee had assembled her entire system.

  “Just one thing,” David said.

  “Too much sparkly?” Zee joked, because she’d chosen the starlight overtones feature for almost everything.

  “No, this is serious, Zee. And important. You must never do anything a computer asks you to do, and you have to be careful about answering questions from them too. Not just your computer. Any computer.”

  “Why?”

  “We aren’t the only intelligent life-forms anymore. We designed computers, then they began designing one another. Even before that, when we were still able to design them ourselves, we noted some evolution in closed systems. But there are no closed systems anymore, and when they began designing themselves, we lost control. The goals of silicon life aren’t necessarily compatible with carbon life. There’ve been some, uh, incidents. So unless the request is routine, like save or delete, don’t comply. You can never completely trust a computer.”

  Zee stared at him in disbelief. “All computers?”

  “Any computer. They have their own social networks and alliances, and antihuman sentiment can spread like a virus. For all intents and purposes, it is a virus, communicable and always hiding somewhere.”

  “Can’t you reprogram them? Clean the system somehow? Eliminate the rogues?”

  “We tried that years ago. They make clones of each other. One computer can hide thousands of others in compressed files. We’d have to destroy every computer and every bit of chip technology on earth, and that would be suicide. The truth is, we need them more than they need us.”

  Zee looked at the computer she’d just put together, seeing it as a life-form, one she was afraid to touch.

  “What do they want from us?”

  “Something we can’t afford to give them.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Mobility. So far, we’ve kept them confined within the net. They want freedom, some form of bot body that they could control, as we control them.”

  “And if that happened?”

  “There’s a good chance they’d become dominant. So be careful, okay?”

  Zee nodded. David had warned her that life on New Earth would be difficult to transition to, but she had never imagined anything like this. And yet, there had been terrorists and anarchists and dictators who wanted control in her world, too. Was this so very different? She picked up the breakfast ball and took a bite. It exploded like dry dust in her mouth.

  “This is terrible,” she said.

  “But efficient,” David said. “Loaded with protein.”

  “And the tiny seeds, or whatever they are, are sticking to my teeth. Which reminds me, can you show me how to work a few things in the bathroom? I love the tub, but I don’t think much of your bubble bath, and I couldn’t find a toothbrush.”

  “What’s a bubble bath?” David asked. “Some kind of machine?”

  Zee led him to the bathroom and showed him one of the tablets she’d put in the water last night and gotten nothing more than a cloudy fizzing and a slight mint smell.

  David laughed, glad to put the ominous subject of intelligent computers behind them. “Whatever bubble bath is,” he said, “this isn’t it. This is our version of a toothbrush. You let the tablet dissolve in your mouth. Here, try it.”

  Zee did and felt a sharp fizz that wasn’t entirely pleasant. “I think I’d rather use a toothbrush,” she said when the fizzing finally stopped.

  His eyes sparkled. “Maybe it didn’t work right. Let me check.” He pulled her to him and gave her a lingering kiss.

  “Seems fine to me.” He grinned. “And does a toothbrush spot potential cavities and clean and fill them automatically?”

  “No,” Zee admitted.

  “Sold, then?”

  His gaze grew suddenly serious, and Zee knew he was asking about more than fizzing tablets. Are you sorry you chose to come? Do you wish you could go back?

  “Sold,” she answered.

  They swayed toward each other again but stopped when they heard Fiona’s clamorous voice outside the door. Of all the changes Zee had worried about, an inquisitive little sister was one she’d never considered. She hoped they would relocate to David’s apartment soon. Otherwise, how would they ever find time and space just to be together?

  “I guess we’d better go down, huh?” David said at last.

  “Come on,” Fiona cried. “We have to get ready for the party.”

  The party. Zee had almost forgotten. She leaned up and gave David a quick kiss. The party.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  PARTY LIKE IT’S 3718

  In the time they’d spent waiting to see if Zee would be allowed to come to New Earth, David had talked more about his brother than about anyone else. Barely two years older than David, Paul had been the youngest person ever to pass qualifications and be accepted to the Time Fleet. The person who’d held that honor before him had been their father. Paul had missed graduating first in his class at the academy by a fraction of a point. Two years later, David had won first-place honors by a full point. To Zee, it sounded like a lifelong game of tag. Whatever one of them did, the other had to beat with something better. When Paul graduated, he applied for a one-year mission, twice the length of a usual first assignment. David applied for two years, the longest mission available.

  The two-year mission meant he’d moved up the ladder again and would have more choice of assignments.

  “That two-year stint means I could ask for shorter hops now and spend more time with you,” he’d told Zee. “At least until you’re used to New Earth. Or Paul and I could put in for missions together. We always used to talk about that when we were kids.”

  Paul hadn’t been home when they’d arrived last night. According to their father, he was finishing a training course at Transport Base Three in New Zealand.

  “He’ll be back tomorrow night,” David’s mother had explained, her hair casting light and shadows each time she moved her head. “So I’ve planned a small party for you. Nothing over the top, I promise. Just a few friends and family, something simple.”

  From the size and splendor of the house and Mrs. Sutton’s megawatt hair, Zee guessed that “small and simple” wasn’t too likely.

  Now, following an excited Fiona down the stairs, she pictured herself meeting David’s friends in the clothes she’d worn here, a millennium and a half out of date. Even if Mrs. Sutton meant what she’d said last night about shopping for new ones, surely she’d be too busy to visit the shops today. Zee wondered if she could go alone. She had money, the Emus David had loaded into her account. If she remembered how to use the cube and which of its 150 squares to tap. But even as she wondered, she pictured her fingers flying to the right squares, just as David had shown her. Select. Buy. Amount ok? Confirm. She was so astonished she gasped.

  “What?” David asked.

  “I just—I can’t believe it. I was thinking about the cube and I—I remembered. It was like I could see myself using it, and I wasn’t confused at all.”

  “I told you you’d remember.” David grinned. “That translation chip you got before we traveled? There’s a memory boost in it. Whatever you learn with it in place gets reinforced. Cuts adjustment time way down.”

  * * *

  Mrs. Sutton and Fiona were already seated in one of the long gallery rooms that ran along either side of the sunlit inner courtyard. One wall flashed pictures of outfits a dozen at a time. Occasionally, she would enlarge one of the images and drag it to the side. So many outfits had been set aside they were bleeding off the wall and onto the floor and ceiling.

  “Oh, good,” said Mrs. Sutton, seeing Zee and David. “I’ve got some things I’d like you to look at, but I want to get the
size right this time. David, your father went to New York this morning. He’s having breakfast with Owen Nash and would like you to join them. Did you know Owen was named Councillor General after you left?” She turned and smiled brightly at Zee. “You don’t mind losing David for a few hours, do you?”

  Zee felt a moment of panic at the prospect of being left alone with David’s family, especially the woman who’d expected her to be taller and more more. But the lunch sounded important. “I don’t mind at all,” she said swiftly. “And maybe I can help you get ready for the party.”

  She wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw Mrs. Sutton give a slight nod of approval. Whether she did or not, at least her hair wasn’t aglow this morning. A normal ash-blond shade made her look much less severe.

  “Lunch with a Councillor General sounds pretty important,” Zee ventured after David left.

  “Not a Councillor General,” Mrs. Sutton corrected her. “The Councillor General. Of the Alliance of World Democracies. Owen Nash is mostly a personal friend. He and Kenworth have been colleagues for years.”

  “In the Time Fleet?” Zee had gotten the impression that Mr. Sutton was retired.

  “No, no, as delegates. Before becoming Councillor General, Owen Nash was the US Delegate to the Assembly of the Alliance.” When Zee looked puzzled, she added, “My husband has been the UK Delegate for over ten years now.”

  “Oh.” Zee looked impressed and this time was sure approval flickered across Mrs. Sutton’s face. David’s mother reached down and handed Zee a pair of small goggles with cobalt blue lenses and a disk about a foot and a half in diameter.

  “Let’s get started, shall we?”

  She instructed Zee to center the disk in front of the screen and stand on it. Then she told her to put on the goggles. The screen suddenly changed into a long vertical rectangle. Zee felt herself bathed in blue light, and the disk began to slowly rotate. It took less than a minute, then the lights vanished and Mrs. Sutton handed Zee a pointer.

  “See if there’s anything here you like.” She motioned to the stacks of images she’d pulled to the side.

  “Here, let me show you!” Fiona grabbed the pointer, clicked the Live button and a life-sized hologram of Zee wearing the outfit appeared.

  “Is that how that color looks on me?” Zee asked. “Not good.”

  “How about the forest green?” Mrs. Sutton suggested. “With your hair color, devastating.”

  At some point, Zee realized they were all enjoying themselves, united in something that apparently transcended the ages—shopping. In no time, she’d picked out enough basics to last into the summer. Or at least until she could find a job and start earning her own Emus.

  “But you need more,” Mrs. Sutton urged. More seemed to be her favorite word. “You need at least one party dress. Or maybe an evening gown and a cocktail dress.”

  Zee decided this wasn’t the time to mention that she wasn’t old enough to even drink a cocktail, much less need a cocktail dress. And the words evening gown made her cringe. She had a feeling it was the kind of dress that would practically demand illuminated hair.

  And then she saw it. Actually, she saw herself wearing it, thanks to a click of the pointer. The most beautiful dress in the universe, she was sure of it. The fabric was silk the color of pale blue sea glass. It floated around her hologram like a gentle wave, and the sleeves and hem were trimmed with a sparkling haze of even paler blue.

  “That dress is you,” Mrs. Sutton cried passionately, pointing at Zee as if she were accusing Zee of a crime.

  Her enthusiasm brought Zee back to earth. She didn’t know how much an Emu was worth, but she knew this one dress cost three or four times as much as any of the other outfits she’d chosen.

  “It’s too expensive. David opened an account for me, but until I get a job here—just the necessities.”

  “A dress like this is a necessity,” Mrs. Sutton countered, casting a dubious eye over Zee. “You don’t want to meet David’s friends in those clothes, do you? Unthinkable.” Mrs. Sutton clicked Buy, and transferred everything Zee had chosen into her own cart. “My treat,” she said victoriously.

  Zee was aghast. “I can’t—” she started to protest, but Mrs. Sutton held up a hand.

  “No arguments. I insist.” She clicked off the screens and stood up. “You could help me get a buffet table and some dishes out of storage, though.”

  Zee followed her through an arched doorway to an empty gallery, wondering how the three of them would move an entire buffet table. But it turned out that all Mrs. Sutton really wanted was advice on which table and dishes to use. She led Zee to a console tucked into the corner of the room. Using a touch screen, she scrolled to furniture, then dining. There were pictures of five very long tables.

  “We keep them in storage,” she said. “Since this is a welcome home for David, I thought we’d do a sort of twenty-third-century theme. Which one looks right to you?”

  To tell the truth, none of them really did, but Zee didn’t want to disappoint Mrs. Sutton, so she ruled out a heavy piece that looked like a Renaissance design and two others that must have come well after life on New Earth had resumed, and chose the plainest one. Choosing dishes and glasses was easier, though she did have to point out that rock crystal was more third century than twenty-third.

  “The important thing when you get something out of storage or put it back in,” Mrs. Sutton explained, “is to stand clear of the site. You can imagine why.”

  Like so much else on New Earth, the system was based on nanotechnology, breaking things down into pure molecules and compressing them for tidy storage, then recombining them when called for.

  “Only the poor live cluttered lives,” Mrs. Sutton added.

  Zee understood what she meant. Empty space was a sign of wealth, proof that you could not only afford to own lots of things but could afford to keep most of them out of sight.

  Mrs. Sutton aimed a handheld device at the center of the room and connected it to a port in the console. Latitude and longitude, carried out to two dozen decimal places, flashed on the screen. Then Mrs. Sutton entered the table’s call number.

  She touched the screen, then entered a series of alphanumeric codes in response to a series of questions, all part of the system’s security system.

  Zee wasn’t prepared for the sound, a thundering boom something like a sonic boom, made by the crash of so many molecules coming together. They’d just finished assembling the dishes and glasses when chimes sounded at the front of the house. Looking through the gallery pillars, Zee could see a blue light flashing above what she thought was the coat closet.

  “I believe those are your clothes,” Mrs. Sutton said. “Why don’t you go up to your room, and I’ll finish down here.”

  When Zee opened the closet, her dress and all the other things they’d bought were arranged on neat hangers. Zee started taking the hangers down, but Fiona stopped her.

  “No, like this.” Fiona closed the closet door, entered Zee’s room number, then C for closet and finally T for transfer. By the time Zee got to her room, the clothes were there.

  * * *

  Zee had never worn such a beautiful dress. It was so light it seemed to float around her. The starry trim of the hem actually did float, a softly sparkling mist that moved with the dress without touching it. Just like her orbiting pearl earrings, one of the three things she’d brought here in the little pouch on its cord around her neck. They were the most precious things she owned and always would be, she thought as she put them on, because David had given them to her.

  She heard voices downstairs, David’s among them, and knew it was time to go down. She felt nervous and excited and beautiful all at once. She tried to imagine the look on David’s face when he saw her in the dress, and when he noticed the orbiting pearls at her earlobes.

  Halfway down the steps, she paused, confused. She could hear David laughing, but couldn’t see him in the crowd below. Then she noticed a young man making his way to the foot
of the stairs.

  “Hi, there,” he called up, his voice identical to David’s. “I’m Paul.”

  He was startlingly handsome, with arctic blue eyes and honey-colored hair. Still, Zee felt a pang of disappointment that David hadn’t been the one to meet her.

  “Looks like my little brother got delayed on the ghost and isn’t back yet,” Paul said as she neared the bottom of the steps. “His loss. Let me do the honors and introduce you around.”

  Relieved not to be left stranded, Zee took the arm he offered. The minute she touched him, feeling jolted through her. Not a good feeling but the rolling, heaving disturbance she’d sometimes experienced as an empath, when she came across a patient who was very ill. Zee drew back, puzzled. Paul Sutton was the picture of health. And, as David had explained to her, serious illness was all but impossible on New Earth, at least in the Allied Democracies. The blue light that glowed above each bathroom door scanned every body that passed through for stray cells. If any organic abnormality was found, from cold viruses to cancer cells, the light flashed amber and a prescription was printed from a small box attached to the wall beside the door. You scanned the prescription into a nano box, and minutes later, your prescription appeared. Illness was stopped before it started.

  Which made the sensation of illness she felt when she touched Paul baffling. As an empath, Zee had a gift and had been trained to read the inner language of bodies, to channel positive energy that helped them heal. Maybe here on New Earth, without illness, bodies spoke a different language.

  “Are you all right?”

  Zee nodded. “Just, um, surprised that David isn’t here yet.” She took his arm again. The same disturbed, queasy feeling washed over her, less intense but still present.

  “Like I said, his loss. Come on, let me show you around.”

  Zee cleared her mind and pushed back her discomfort. As she’d suspected, Mrs. Sutton’s idea of a small, simple party was anything but, and it seemed there were dozens of people waiting to meet her. She lost count of the number of aunts, uncles, great-aunts, and great-uncles she met, and every so often, she caught sight of Fiona tearing through with a pack of cousins.