by John Freitas
“CDR was the devil we knew,” Thomas said. “Or the only devil paying.”
Jeffrey motioned toward a gutted building with scaffolding climbing up the outside. “The Pulse destroyed cities. New Orleans was still not the same after the hurricane and then the Pulse caused it to flood all over again and worse than before, I understand. I should have seen some of these places before. Even if we do manage to handle Pixie and save CDR’s reputation, I’m not sure I want to crawl back into their labs to keep pushing forward their agenda. People may need to know what is going on regardless of how that might shake up our world. I don’t know.”
“I don’t know either,” Thomas said, “but I think this is it.”
Jeffrey looked up at the two-story building. It was white brick and had air conditioning units hanging off of each window. There was no sign on the outside.
“At least it’s reasonably priced, right?” Jeffrey said. “CDR employees probably stay in nicer places.”
Thomas sniffed. “Well, if you are reconsidering CDR, maybe I can get you a lucrative career with my fake tech company in the Bahamas.”
“If I had any idea where St. Xander Island was, I’m sure it would be nice this time of year,” Jeffrey said.
“I couldn’t find it on a map,” Thomas said.
Jeffrey shrugged. “Probably part of its charm.”
Thomas walked through the glass doors without further comment and Jeffrey followed. The android behind the counter was staring across at the far wall with his eyes dark and his face blank. The lobby had marble tile and there was a café bar off the lobby to the right. It was lined with dark oak and brass in need of polishing.
The android’s eyes lit and he turned his attention on the pair. After a moment of silence, the android said, “Welcome to New Orleans, Doctors Kell and Danvers. Your reservation is set and the room will be ready shortly. While you are waiting, you can enjoy a drink or meal in the hotel restaurant. We can hold your bags until then, if you wish.”
Jeffrey looked at Thomas and Thomas said, “We’ll hold on to them, thank you.”
“I’ll send a bellhop for you once we are ready, Doctor.” The android’s eyes glowed a moment longer. They went dark and he turned his blank face back forward once more. He was not programmed with an accent Thomas could detect.
Thomas turned away and they went in to take a seat at one of the side tables along the wall of the bar. There was white powder like sugar on all the tables. Jeffery tried to sweep it off, but gave up and brushed his hands off to the side.
The waiter walked up in impeccable white with eyes glowing. “Can I interest you gentlemen in a cocktail or snack?”
“Do you have a menu?” Jeffery asked.
“I can make recommendations based on your tastes,” the android waiter said. “How hungry are you?”
Jeffery looked at Thomas and shrugged. “Kind of hungry.”
“I recommend our Ruben plate then. You can have it with a soda and a nice house bourbon. How does that sound?” he asked.
“Okay?” Jeffrey said.
“Shall I make it two, then?” the android turned his attention on Thomas.
Thomas looked away. “Fine. That’s fine.”
“Coming right up.” The android looked away.
“I would have preferred a menu,” Jeffrey said.
Thomas looked up as a soccer match was playing on the TV’s along the walls with scores of other games scrolling underneath. “Yeah, I don’t know. Maybe it’s the perfect time to start drinking in the middle of the day.”
The human bartender walked up to the table while glancing over his shoulder. “Hey, guys. Sorry to interrupt. I can leave in the order the way it is, if you want. We do have a Cuban sandwich too. It is almost as much food as the Ruben, but about half the price. I can put on extra fries for you too. No charge.”
“That sounds good,” Jeffery said.
“Yeah, switch mine too,” Thomas said. He glanced over to see the androids clearing other tables and cleaning the bar.
“Do you still want those bourbons? The hotel management puts out to push the brand and the droids are selling it to everyone,” he said.
Jeffrey said, “Actually, if you have a light beer on tap, I’d prefer that.”
“Just the soda for me,” Thomas said.
The bartender nodded. “I’ll take care of that right away.”
As the bartender left, Jeffrey said, “I think there might be something lost in the human touch.”
“Generation two was always a bit inflexible,” Thomas said.
Jeffrey nodded. “Generation three isn’t so great so far either.”
The televisions had switched from the game to the news. A rendering of Pixie’s face staring into the camera appeared next to the android anchor’s face. As the android in the suit had his eyes pulsing with low light, Pixie’s drawn eyes had energy lines pouring out of them like some cartoon super hero or villain.
Thomas pointed. “Are you seeing this?”
“Probably not what CDR had planned,” Jeffrey said.
The volume was low, but with multiple sets playing the same broadcast, Thomas could hear most of it. The android anchor gave a warning about the rogue companion of unknown make. He related two deaths in Ohio and Indiana as well as destruction involving other androids in Charleston. A nationwide search was beginning using multiple agencies. CDR could not be reached for comment.
The android moved on, describing escalating violence in many cities surrounding fears and distrust of android companions. Fires blazed in a video image that wasn’t immediately identified.
Thomas thought this might have been a good moment for the network to go with a human broadcaster.
“This changes things,” Thomas said.
“Yeah, I’d say so. Maybe she will be found and caught sooner. This might be good,” Jeffrey said.
“Or it might make her more desperate and dangerous,” Thomas said. “As soon as we get in the room, we should coordinate with Eve and see if we can track Pixie’s movements after she left Charleston.”
“Should we go ahead to the authorities now?” Jeffrey asked.
Thomas stared and thought about it for a moment. “And tell them what exactly?”
“What we know?” Jeffrey said.
“That we built her and let her escape?” Thomas asked. “That we secretly tracked her to help CDR cover it up again? That people died while we were doing that? That we don’t know where she is or how to find her?”
Jeffrey frowned and looked away. “Well, if you put it like that.”
The android waiter stepped up and set plates heaping with fries in front of them. “Here are those Cubans, gentlemen, like you ordered. I should check on those drinks.”
The human bartender stepped around. He put a tall amber glass in front of Jeffrey and a fizzy soda for Thomas. “Got them right here. All set.”
The android stared for a moment with his eyes pulsing. The bartender took a ketchup from one of the other tables and set it between them.
The bartender looked at the android and said, “Return.”
They both turned away and walked off.
Jeffrey gritted his teeth. “Do you think he knew the order had been changed? Was he mad about it?”
Thomas shook his head. “I don’t know what androids think anymore. I want to eat and not think about it for a while.”
As they ate in silence, the bellhop approached halfway through the meal. “I can take you to your room now.”
Thomas looked up into the glowing eyes. “We’ll finish eating first, thank you.”
“I can take your bags.”
“We’ll keep our bags and take them ourselves,” Thomas said. “If you could just leave the key for us … please.”
The android stared a moment. “Your fingerprints will serve as your key. Simply press your thumb to the pad above the lock on 205.”
“Do you need our thumbprints on file?” Jeffrey asked.
“We already have
them, Doctors.” The android bellhop turned away and left.
Thomas looked across at Jeffrey and then returned to eating.
Jeffrey said, “I’m not sure I like our lack of anonymity.”
Thomas ate his fries without looking up. He needed more soda, but he decided to wait until the human bartender was paying attention.
17
A Grande Confederação Unida Brasileiro …
Jeffrey read the words scrolling on the screen above the lounge where they sat. He looked again out the window at the Gulf of Mexico drifting slowly below them.
“Do you read Spanish?”
Thomas looked up from the laptop he had bought as a replacement. Jeffrey nodded toward the screen. Thomas glanced over and back to the computer balanced on his knees in the plush chair.
“Portuguese.”
“Excuse me, Dr. Kell?”
“That’s Portuguese, I believe.”
“You read Portuguese then?”
Thomas shrugged. “Not really. I just know they speak Portuguese in Brazil.”
“I thought they were bilingual since they formed the confederation with the northern nations of South and Central America,” Jeffrey said.
Thomas looked up and stared at the clouds through the high windows. “You’re right. Officially, the Great Brazilian United Confederation is trilingual. They use Portuguese, Spanish, and English publicly.”
“Lucky for us,” Jeffrey said.
“I don’t get why she would go here?”
“Eve was pretty sure and the data checks out,” Jeffrey said.
“I know, but it seems like an odd choice, don’t you think?”
“If she could get away with it,” Jeffrey said, “if she could pull it off, it would be the last place anyone would look. You said she might get desperate after her picture went wide in the States, right?”
Thomas closed the laptop and returned it to his other bags. “Maybe. It looks like she left before the picture was released, though. She was on her way to somewhere before that.”
“I’m just glad we are going somewhere that she can’t turn other androids against us,” Jeffrey said.
Thomas gathered his bags. “Maybe so. I don’t trust any of this. I want to know where she is going instead of constantly going where she has been.”
Jeffrey looked out the window and saw that the zeppelin was descending as they crossed over land again. It took a while for the airship to connect with the tower landing docks.
Androids carried the bags as far as a red line across the disembarkment ramp. The attendants turned and backed away. Human porters in short sleeves crossed the line from there, carrying passengers’ bags out onto the windy platform and down inside the tower.
Armed guards with automatic weapons and launchers lined the railings of the platform, aiming back into the hull of the craft. As Thomas passed them, he saw the soldiers weren’t aiming on the people leaving the ship, but rather the androids behind the red line.
Thomas and Jeffrey followed the crowd into the tower. As they waited, they looked out the windows at the trees and buildings lined far below.
They were waved forward and handed over their passports. “Americans. English is your preferred language, then?”
“Yes, sir,” Thomas answered.
“We have an open travel policy for American tourists. Just keep your papers with you at all times and you’ll be fine,” the man said. “You can exchange currency to the GCUB Reals, or merchants will happily quote you prices in American dollars. Do you have anything to claim before passing through the scanners?”
“I have medicine for a gland condition along with an injector,” Thomas said.
“Do you have the prescription or medical documents with you?”
“I do.”
“Present both, please, sir.”
Thomas put the case on top of the podium and a small square of paper on that. The official looked at the paper and back at Thomas. He handed the paper back and opened the case.
The infuser was disassembled inside the case. The official lifted the canister with the green liquid. “You inject this?”
“Every day,” Thomas said.
The man stared a moment longer before putting it away and closing the case. “Enjoy your stay and spend lots of American dollars, please.”
Thomas smiled and gathered his bags before they moved to the lines for the lifts.
“Should we take the stairs?” Jeffrey asked.
Thomas looked across the shops that lined the concourse. “It’s over ten thousand steps down. I’m not sure I’m up for it.”
Jeffrey’s eyes went wide. “We can wait on the elevators, if you really want to.”
“I thought as much.”
“Eve may have a future in counterfeiting documents.”
Thomas sighed. “I certainly hope not.”
Thomas looked up at a red sign that had the shape of a robot like out of a 1960’s sci-fi movie. There was a white slash across the robot. There were no words on the sign. Thomas supposed that none were needed.
They piled into the car with the next group and the doors slid shut, barely giving them room to breathe. As the lift lurched down, they got a view along the outside of the tower, but the cramped space did not allow them to enjoy the spectacle very much.
The rebuilding had proceeded further than he thought, but there were still many structures that were sheered sideways. Beyond the crumbled buildings and rebuilt structures, a massive tent city of refugees and displaced families stretched out to the horizon. Thomas wondered if they went all the way to the beach halfway across the country, but he doubted authorities would let refugees get in the way of tourist destinations.
Thomas could follow the pattern clearly from south to north along the debris fields. The destruction was worse and more widespread than in Chicago, or any American city he had visited for that matter. It was like an atomic bomb had gone off. It had been a gravitational bomb from the cascading collapse of three distant stars. Asia had been crushed. North America and Europe had been lifted and dropped. Parts of South America had been sliced by sheering forces across the surface due to the angle of impact of the gravitational waves and the rotation of the Earth.
Thomas wondered if this region didn’t in fact have it the worst. They might have benefited the most from CDR’s brand of help, but they refused. They joined together under one banner much like the EU, but they took a wildly luddite stance against the android technologies. Now Thomas wondered if they weren’t the wisest, too.
The elevator settled and everyone poured out. More shops lined the bottom floor and open archways led out to the streets and avenues. A humid heat struck them full in the face as soon as they left the elevator.
They exited together and stood outside.
Jeffrey asked, “So, we have an entire continent to search. Where do you want to look first?”
Thomas sighed. “We do what we always do. We go to the places she has been.”
A bus with people hanging off the side rumbled by. The boiler on the back popped. Steam whistled through the pressure valves on the top of the apparatus. A vehicle with the top sawed off swerved around the bus and continued on the other way. Thomas suspected the car probably still used sawgrass ethanol since he did not see anything to produce steam power attached to it.
They crossed the road and continued up the next sidewalk.
Jeffrey said, “I never dreamed it would be a global disaster that would move us away from fossil fuels.”
Thomas nodded. “Tipping points come from unexpected factors sometimes. The gravitational forces shifted the geology of the Venezuelan oil fields. The Brazilian Confederation had no choice except to adapt.”
“Or perish,” Jeffrey said.
Thomas found himself thinking about Pixie. Maybe adapt or perish had become her motto as well. He wondered if his pursuit on behalf of CDR was driving her adaptation. He could not let her go free without knowing what kind of threat she posed to the world or t
he rest of the Quantum brains, the androids, and the people they served.
They passed by the buildings that had been rebuilt. Most were sealed in an exoskeleton of metal scaffolding which hugged the outside stone. The entire country was bracing itself for it all to happen again. No amount of reassurance convinced people that the odds of it happening again were astronomical.
Thomas wondered what they thought would happen to the airship tower, if it did happen again.
“The next disaster will be something different that no one expects,” Thomas said as he watched the sunlight dance off the metal shells.
“Are you prophesying now?” Jeffery asked.
Thomas shook his head. “Just calculating the odds.”
“If things keep going the way they are going, Pixie may be the next disaster no one sees coming.”
Thomas didn’t answer as they left the whole buildings behind and stepped into a neighborhood that constituted a stretch of blasted ruins. Children played between spits of brick or block which stuck up from cracked foundations like weathered formations in a desert. This wasteland was the blight of poor neighborhoods left lower on the lists of priorities.
Venders sat by ramshackle wagons piled with wilted foods or mismatched products. They were outside the doors to buildings missing everything above the first floor.
A few structures had tarps tied over the missing tops. Others lacked entire sides while families occupied the surviving sections of the apartments and tenements. Thomas could see into the rooms through third floor kitchens and bedrooms through the missing walls as families cooked, ate, and played as if their quarters were not one giant balcony for the entire city to watch as they passed.
Thomas saw one man lounging back in a lawn chair precariously close to the jagged drop-off of the broken fourth floor. He balanced a bottle of something on the arm of the chair as he watched a soccer match on a black and white set balanced upon a stack of cinderblocks.
“How far are we going?” Jeffery asked.
