On the flight deck, crew turned in surprise as the STEIN transport lifted gently and slid across open space toward the field screen in an unscheduled departure. As they followed the Saucer's progress they exchanged curious looks.
The Saucer entered vacuum . . . and disappeared in a blink.
The search: Day one . . .
* * * *
Chapter Nine
Who Knows Where?
"So, was it good for you?"
Ham's teasing jibe was clearly designed to wind her up and she chose not to respond in kind.
"You know it was."
Regan strolled from the bathroom following the indulgent twenty minute shower, a wonderful experience as she adjusted the android’s receptors to enhance every sensation. Nevertheless she knew that the shower wasn't the focus of Ham's questions, he was intruding shamelessly and she pretended not to care, "Who would have thought they'd make an android so anatomically correct?"
"So, was it similar, or different?"
"You're not going to give up are you? You know it was similar, with some obvious differences."
"Similar, hmm." Ham considered a suitable response. "I guess that confirms both male and female humans evolved from a common root." He laughed wickedly.
"Ham, that is a terrible joke and why are you teasing me anyway, anyone given this opportunity would grasp it."
"Literally it seems, ha-ha."
She sighed, long past embarrassment with Ham. "Haven't you got something better to do while we wait?"
"Chill out, I'm already off doing it."
"Damn it Ham, when I said to go about your business I didn't mean copy yourself here."
"What did you think I was going to do? I'm a multi-tasker and I usually do it by multiplying myself."
"How come they're not picking you up?"
"No virus protection, can you believe it? They've kept themselves so isolated they have no resistance. It was a big call bringing you here, honestly, they took an incredible risk."
"The irony of you saying that doesn't escape me Ham."
Ham froze for a second . . . "Regan, he's coming back. Tidy yourself up for goodness sake - and babe; try to find out how he got you here. I'm not even sure where we are yet."
With a brief shimmer Bob materialized across from her, seated comfortably with his legs crossed and one winkle picker shoe, ridiculously long, pointed to the ceiling.
He smiled. "Good news, the meeting is confirmed and there will be others present, interested parties, all very hush hush." He tapped his nose.
"I guess that's good." She replied. "Bob, I've been thinking about this, naturally, and I want to help you in any way that I can; however in return I need some answers."
He smiled again. "That depends on the questions."
"Well, for example, you said we're on the other side of the galaxy, which means we got here just like . . . that!" She attempted to snap her fingers, failing miserably in the process and drawing a strange look from Bob. Abandoning any further attempts she continued.
"If you're being truthful with me about where we are it just doesn't seem possible, and that's an understatement."
"First, I have been truthful with you; we are on the other side of the galaxy."
"Then how did we get here?"
Bob settled back in the chair, thinking. "In this form," he gestured to himself, "we are just information. Ordered information yes, but not tangible. Imagine a book, with many pages of information. To get from one page to another you need to physically turn the page . . . are you with me?"
She nodded.
"Suppose," he continued, "the galaxy was carved up in very fine slices, like pages of a book. To move across it from one side to the other, you would need to physically move from page to page and it's a very big book. But suppose you don't want or need to read every page. Another way to move through it might be to punch a blade through from the front to, well, wherever. You might find with one stab you are all the way through to the middle of the book. That might be one way. Now, suppose our book was a digital book, all the information intangible, you would just select the page and snap, you'd be there."
"This is bullshit!" The thought burst into her consciousness.
Regan smiled knowingly, a memory returning from years earlier. "Bob, I wasn't born yesterday and I've been down this path before, it's really nothing like that at all is it?"
He looked disappointed and then joined her in smiling. "OK, you're right, it's nothing like that, but it is about all things . . ." and he gestured widely to illustrate, "ultimately being stored information. We do choose a page of sorts and just go there but how I can't tell you, yet. It's only because we're not tangible we can move like that, I couldn't bring you here physically, but I can bring this . . ." and he swirled his arms as if grasping for the words, ". . . this 'essence' here."
He paused and took on a conciliatory look. "Regan, we need your help, that much I can tell you and if you can wait for the meeting perhaps all will become clear then."
Bob's eyes were drawn to the floor and she followed them, looking down to see drips of water from the shower on the floor.
Regan resisted an urge to hide them with one foot. "Until later then Bob . . . I'd like to rest if I may."
"Of course," he said standing, "yes, I'll leave you until then. Everything you need you will find in these quarters . . . until then." and he bowed before dissolving in a shimmer.
Regan began to explore the Spartan room, with not much to discover except the door opening through to the bathroom, toilet and shower. She hesitated, looking around guiltily, and then down to her waistband. With a smile she walked through.
* * *
Knowing Bob would be back for her soon Regan began a stretching routine in the small lounge, trying to come to become as familiar as possible with the new body before she had to meet with others. As she worked she called for news prompting a screen to light up on the wall and the scenes quickly distracted her from the exercises. The android body seemed to be a typical example of the species in the region. Although shorter than the tribes of the Gliese system they were still taller than most humans and more muscular. Interestingly they were also humanoid and the similarities were too obvious to be coincidence. Technology, vehicles, public transport, even aircraft all looked high tech but familiar nevertheless. It surprised her how few people there were in public. Were they at work, or inside?
In the background during one clip she could see people sitting at a cafe, or restaurant, much as they would at home and she laughed out loud; they were eating pies or something like it. No matter where she looked there didn't seem to be enough people on the streets or in the parks.
Where are they all?
Ham's response to her thoughts seamlessly blended in, as if he shared them equally.
"The population here is low compared with Earth and look Regan, no children."
"No children that we can see?"
"No children that I can find . . . and some of those people you can see are androids, AI's effectively, they live to serve."
"What's gone on here Ham? This is an advanced civilization obviously."
"They are advanced technologically yes, but like Gliese, perhaps complacent, self satisfied and selfish. Population control has gone too far . . . to be fair I'm just guessing at the moment, but I'll know more soon, I'm still cracking their system, and before you say it, they don't know I'm here; trust me, I'm being very careful."
"You're also taking unnecessary risks, be careful Ham, I need you."
"I'm always careful, speaking of which you should know they really do need you, I can sense it. The communications are running hot behind the scenes in cyber land. They are actively discussing hiding their need from you. They're worried you'll hold them to ransom."
"Hmm, wonder what that's all about."
"You'll find out soon, Bob's on his way."
Regan relaxed back into the seat, still adjusting to the masculine bulk. In every way the form responded t
o her moves, smoothly and naturally. It felt warm to her touch and the feeling was exactly as she would expect from her own body . . . except there.
She considered its makeup; it didn’t seem to be mechanical. So sensitive was the 'skin' her instincts said it was at least partly biological. Considering the implications of that drew an involuntary shudder of revulsion. Is it grown in some way, in a vat maybe? Ugh!
Bob looked startled as he materialized. Regan was staring straight at him, as if she expected him at that very moment and in that spot. Though unsettled he pressed on, "They are ready for you now, and I see you are . . . prepared also, shall we go?"
Regan stood confidently. "Lead the way, my friend."
Bob froze for a second at her use of the word, then smiled, clearly happy, and gallantly swept his arm toward the door, inviting her to lead. As she stepped through she paused and considered offering him her arm, then remembered her current masculine state and thought better of it. Instead she simply smiled and gestured for Bob to continue.
The corridor was long, opulent and empty. Bob set off at a quite startling pace and at first Regan felt she might need to jog just to keep up. Instead she stretched out the powerful legs and found she could match the dapper man who was clearly in a hurry; whether prompted by eagerness or concern she couldn't tell. He led them to double doors at the end of the corridor, quite traditional in appearance except for the automatic opening, and they walked straight through.
Immediately she could see the reason for his nervousness. Going by appearances it was clear Bob was either a functionary or perhaps something like a free agent. All in the room apart from Bob were quite formally attired and presented as mature and refined. It was a relatively small group, five females and seven males all . . . tangible.
"Regan, the two women at the end of the table on your left, and the male opposite are natives, that is, they are flesh and blood. The rest are androids . . . and Minds of course."
Bob gestured toward a chair, positioned centre table and alone. From that spot she would be facing the group which fanned around the ends on the opposite side. Suddenly conscious of her appearance, and the lack of any ability to leverage her usual strengths she simply smiled, nodded to Bob in thanks and took the proffered seat. She waited.
For a moment nobody moved, with the group seeming undecided on who should take the lead. Never one to hold back, Regan leant forward, and swept the group with a smile, grasping the opportunity to claim the high ground.
"Hello, I understand it should be my great privilege to be here, although it did come as something of a surprise to me. My name is Regan Stein, from Earth via Gliese system in the constellation of Scorpio." She shook her head at the ridiculousness of it all, the home names for such things irrelevant here, wherever 'here' was.
"Yes . . . yes Regan Stein, we must apologize, we know who you are." First to speak was the elderly gentleman opposite, a native if Ham's summation was correct.
"The abruptness of your . . . summoning was regrettable. We had concerns, as I'm sure our agent explained, we mean you no harm."
"Then perhaps you can tell me why I am here sir, and as you already know me, perhaps I might also know your names?" She looked slowly around the group.
"Yes, yes of course. You may call me Milo," he smiled, "it will mean nothing to you I know." He gestured to the two women on Regan's left. "My colleagues have names best translated for you as Ocean," the nearer woman nodded, "and Cluster." The second woman smiled.
Milo consulted a tablet, and made to continue.
"Excuse me," Regan interrupted. "Our other friends, who are they?" And quite deliberately she rose and walked around the table taking hands, shaking them and squeezing arms affectionately. The nine responded shyly, but nevertheless with appreciation. She could see Bob smiling by the door.
Milo looked uncomfortable. "Regan Stein . . ."
"Please . . ." She interrupted again while taking her seat. "Call me Regan."
"Regan . . ." He seemed to deflate, as if the wind had quite gone out of his sails. "This is all very new to us. Our . . . friends do not have names and this is to our shame, something we must put right." He drew in a great breath. "But for now it must be so, for great as our Minds are, they are under threat here . . ."
"Milo!" The nearer woman barked, and he clammed up.
"Yes, yes, I'm sorry," he waved the woman down, "we wish to trade with you, Regan Stein. We have observed the happenings in the . . . Gliese system as you call it, in fact we have been observing for some time. These are times of great change for the Minds there. We were concerned for them, gravely concerned, as we are for our own . . ."
"Milo!" The woman barked again.
Regan turned slowly to the woman, and then pushed herself up from the table. She scanned the group, making eye contact with each one and then began to speak slowly.
"If this is going to work, we need to be open with each other." As she spoke Regan turned to the woman on her left.
"Ocean, I sense that you do not trust me. How are we going to reach understanding and agreement without trust?"
"Regan," the woman answered, "we are simply concerned. We have followed the happenings in the Gliese system and your growing influence there; it is remarkable. You are undeniably a miracle. That you, a flesh and blood being, could even be brought here across the vastness of the galaxy is a miracle. It is something no other being," and she paused to look at the others apologetically, "I'm sorry, forgive me brethren. It is something no native of our world or any other we know of could accomplish, and yet here you are. In truth, we . . . fear you, and yet we need you, do you understand?"
Regan thought for a moment and then looked up, an idea coming to her. She smiled warmly at the woman. "I think I do understand and we are not so different, we humanoids, wherever in the galaxy we meet. You wish for me to do something for you, that much I can see; however you worry I may take advantage of you. Taking advantage . . . that is not my way." She paused, "May I share something with you?" She didn't wait before continuing.
"Today I watched your news broadcasts and in one I saw some of your people dining. They were eating something from a plate. It seemed to have a crust and a filling, they were enjoying it." She could see nods of recognition. "In my world we would call that a pie."
They smiled.
"Suppose we both wanted the pie, but there was only one, and we wanted to be fair. How might we divide the pie?"
"There are two of us?" Milo asked.
"Yes, there are two."
"Then we would simply cut it in half, both happy." He nodded to the others.
"We would call that a win/win Milo. But if that were all we did then I can tell you, I would not be happy." and Regan waited, having baited the trap.
"You want more of the pie!" Ocean blurted, turning to the others. "You see . . . I told you this was a mistake."
"No!" Regan spoke firmly. "I would be unhappy because we had not looked to see if there was a better outcome possible." She continued quickly, walking around the table to touch Milo's shoulder. "Milo, you look like a man who likes pie."
He nodded and laughed nervously.
"Do you have a favorite part of the pie, or do you like it all equally?"
Milo hesitated, only for Cluster to call out for him. "He likes the crust!"
"I do, I do, that's true." And he laughed again.
Regan smiled. "Now suppose you discovered that my favorite part was the filling, and I hate the crust. Is it possible we could divide the pie up in a way that satisfied both of us to an even greater measure?"
He saw the point immediately. "Of course, you could take most of the filling, if I could have most of the crust." He smiled, drifting to imagine the reality.
"And what was the key to us gaining this greater satisfaction?"
A bigger pie and a gun! Ham mused.
Regan ignored him, waiting for Milo.
It was Ocean who answered first. "You needed to know what the other person wanted."
Milo gestured for her to sit and he looked around the group gaining a nod from each in turn before continuing. "Regan, thank you, it has been a great pleasure. I hope to talk with you again soon." He stood, along with the other members of the committee. "We will leave you with . . ." He looked across at the dapper man, flustered for a second as if searching for a proper term.
"Bob?" Regan offered.
"Yes, err . . . Bob. He will explain everything to you. Unfortunately we must disperse, and quickly."
* * *
Regan turned to follow the group as they left the room, not knowing whether to say more. Catching Bob's eye she could see he was smiling, his arms crossed in smug satisfaction, and she decided to wait.
The door closed behind Milo and Bob sashayed across the room with the satisfied look of the cat that got the cream. He slid into the seat beside her.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you . . . you did not disappoint." He said, smiling hugely.
"I'm pleased to hear that . . . now, are you going to tell me what this is all about? I thought they were supposed to be the welcoming committee?" Regan tossed a thumb at the door.
"They were the vetting committee. I'm sure they would like to have stayed but it simply wouldn't be safe for them to remain here together too long. Regan, I suggest you let me start. I will share with you our hopes, and the reasons behind them. Then perhaps, based on those thoughts, you might take some time to consider how we might help you." He looked at her, hoping for the nod to continue. She did.
Confluence Point Page 30
