Grantville Gazette, Volume 68

by Bjorn Hasseler

  "Not a visible watermark, a forensic watermark. It's a binary pattern in the pixels of the image." Michael navigated to the myStudio watermarking site. The page hadn't changed much in four years; the watermark scan was still free to use. He selected the two videos for upload.

  Since both videos were under two minutes, the upload and scan didn't take long. In less than thirty seconds, the icons for each video flashed green: myStudio watermark identified! Beside each video popped up a long alphanumeric barcode. The two were identical.

  Michael let out his breath in a silent exhale of relief. "Same watermark, same myStudio license."

  He gave them a moment to let it sink in, let their brains grasp what they were seeing: Gina's About Me video beside the got milq video of pirated Milq SSFs, flashing matching watermarks from the same copy of myStudio.

  Gina had gone milk-white; her mouth bobbled like a goldfish.

  "We can get a name for the license," Michael said, "but we'll need to buy a paid subscription to the myStudio watermarking database."

  "That won't be necessary." Lee's face was like stone; he didn't look at his twin. "Let me get back to you." He dropped out of the call abruptly.

  Michael and Anna blinked at each other. Anna began to grin. "Lee said 'me.' Not 'us.' "

  "Twin deintegration." Michael's head was pulsing with adrenaline; he sucked in a deep breath of air.

  "You did it!" Anna laughed. "I give it half an hour before he calls back to close the order."

  "We did it," Michael corrected her. "You bought me the time I needed."

  Anna shrugged. "We've worked together a long time, Cienega. I knew you'd come through one last time."

  One last time. Fifteenth order. He was done. Michael couldn't quite grasp the reality of it yet, but he felt it somewhere deep in his head, like the sky lightening from blue to gold just before sunrise.

  "You might have to hang out there in Singapore for a few hours." Anna's eyebrows furrowed as she checked her other screen. "The OTP nodes are queued up for inbound transfers. But we'll get you back here tonight."

  Michael grimaced. "I'm not looking forward to walking back into CelebriSee to get to the hub."

  "Worried they'll give you trouble?" Anna shook her head. "Don't be. We'll sue them into bankruptcy. You're still an Ozumi asset until you sign off on the severance paperwork." She swiveled away toward her other screen. "That reminds me; I'll message Biosupport to pull your body from storage."

  "Take your time," Michael said. "I need to pick up something."

  ****

  "Back again, rénzào rén?" The nanodragon vendor beamed with delight. "Changed your mind about the LAG module?"

  "No, I want to order a nanodragon to ship. I can buy other preloaded shapes too, right?"

  "Yes, lots of animals." The vendor picked up a tablet from behind the counter, swiped and tapped a few times, then handed it to Michael. "You choose. When you're done I'll take shipping information."

  Michael scrolled through the nanoshapes, watching the preview image transform from tiger to dragon to ram to snake, zodiac animals and many more.

  Dragon? Of course.

  Tiger? Yes, perfect. Sam had been obsessed with big cats, before dragons and after construction cranes.

  Spider? Bad idea. Sam would love a spider but Michael's mother would beat it into sub-nano pieces with her cast iron skillet. And he himself didn't want to wake up to a nanospider walking across his face if Sam decided it would be funny to sneak it into his bed while he slept.

  He chose a monkey instead, approved his selection, and handed the tablet back to the vendor.

  "Ship to?"

  "Sam Cienega." Michael gave his mother's address in Dallas. The nanodragon would arrive before he would. Biosupport had muscle massagers and nutrient management, but essentially his body had been in an induced coma for the past seven years. He had a lot of physical rehab ahead.

  The vendor smiled at him. "Your son?"

  "Sam? No." A son would have been easier. Michael wasn't looking forward to puberty and the terrible teens. But he still wouldn't trade Sam for all the boys in the world. "Sam's my daughter."

  In his head, the edge of the sun broke the horizon with a wash of light and heat; joy surged through his amygdala. He was going home. The smile that cracked his synflesh face felt as wide and mighty as a Hero's. "The nanodragon is her birthday present."

  ****