by Gian Bordin
He laughed. "Yes, you’re doing just fine." He liked her eagerness to try out new expressions. She came over to him and looked at him in that special way that went right to his core. "And don’t you get sidetracked now. We are engaged in serious business."
"Is that not serious business too?" Her smile intensified and he could feel her reach into his mind. "But it can wait," she continued, moving a bit away. "The only other member of the Young clan is Kwong Fook. There’s something fishy about his going into seclusion shortly after my parents disappeared."
"Yes, it could be that he was put away, so to speak, because he didn’t want to play along —"
"— or his mental illness, if this is what he suffers from, was caused by guilt. I wouldn’t be surprised if he is the one who holds the key to our riddle. Sooner or later we’ll have to find him and talk to him. I also put him high on our list."
"And then there’s the Deng family — the other controlling side of UniCom, and all we have are names. Kao Deng, who became chairman after your grandfather and who died three years ago, his two sons, Kim and Xi Deng, and their four sons, although all of those were in their low teens or younger when it happened. We can rule them out."
"We have to find a way to meet the Dengs. I still trust that my empathic skills will ultimately help me to identify the guilty party."
"Don’t forget Syd Twan." He could not shake off the feeling that this man was going to become his rival for Yuen-mong, and then his own chances to retain her were small. Syd could offer her so much more than he would ever be able.
"No, I haven’t, but again so far my instincts tell me that he’s innocent. He loved my mother too much to want to harm her."
"But maybe the plan was that your father would go alone. His death would then have opened the door for Syd Twan, although there is one missing link. He would have needed help from inside UniCom, somebody who cooperated with him to send your father to Aros."
"Yes, that has occurred to me too, and then the whole thing would have nothing to do with instantcom and we may be doing UniCom great harm."
"True, but your father’s invention had the potential of ruining UniCom anyway. So our plan is only doing what would have happened twenty years earlier. In some sense, they’ve profited from your parents’ death."
"Oh, I’m not sorry for them, and selling my shares has in fact opened up a new possibility. Is it not correct that once instantcom becomes known, the UniCom shares will drop in value?" She might as well test if she had understood her current studies in economics and finance.
"Yes, they’ll go down a lot, especially at the beginning when panic strikes, but I guess they’ll recover partially later on again. Stock markets often show the most illogical behavior, particularly in the short run."
"So we could take advantage of that and buy the shares held by private investors when they are at their lowest. If they drop to about ten percent of their current value, then I have enough funds to buy all shares not owned by the Young and Deng clans. Is my reasoning right?"
"It is, and I bet when the shares drop, even some of the Young and Deng shares may be offered for sale. But you forget the agreement between the Young and the Deng clans. Since you are part of the Youngs you would violate that agreement if you bought shares without an equal match by the Dengs, which is unlikely."
"I don’t really consider myself part of the Young clan. I don’t feel bound by that agreement, and if necessary we can always buy them in your name and then end that agreement later on."
"Yuen-mong, I don’t like that plan. It’s your fortune, not mine."
"I’m confident we’ll find a way. Let’s not worry about that aspect yet. The more serious question is whether we should let Syd Twan in on the whole thing."
"It will be difficult to hide from him. He’ll easily put two-and-two together when you suddenly start withdrawing huge amounts of credits."
"So we might as well let him arrange the purchases, but we’ll only let him know right when it happens, not before. Agreed?" He nodded. "Once I’m the majority shareholder, we’ll take control of UniCom and will have access to all internal files where we may find some clues about who sent my father to Aros, and we’ll also get to know the Dengs. It seems a roundabout way to get to our goal, but it’s a feasible plan —"
"— provided we don’t get killed before. We’re playing with fire, not just any fire, but the hottest."
"That’s nicely put. I like that."
"Can’t you ever be serious?"
"I thought I was, but maybe now it’s time to forget about being serious. Come to bed, Atun. Your woman is waiting for you." She was already shedding her clothing.
* * *
Monday morning, the day after the Young family dinner, Yuen-mong had an uneasy feeling when she and Atun worked out at the gym in their apartment complex. A new voice stuck out from the background noise of minds surrounding her, a voice that seemed to have more than a casual interest in her. She tried to place it and focused on a man who was sitting in the café-bar below them next to the pool. He was facing them so that the glassed-in exercise room, except for the farthest corners, was clearly visible from where he sat. While she was running on the treadmill, she observed him unobtrusively. He had already got his third coffee from the hot drinks dispensing unit. When they left the gym, she quickly reentered a few seconds later as if to search for something on the floor and noticed that he had gotten up too.
"There is a man shadowing us," she whispered as she caught up with Atun on their way back to the apartment. He only nodded.
Once inside their unit, he said: "I guess your uncle wants to find out more about our projects. We should now also expect that they’ll try to break into our apartment and into Vishnu. Fortunately, there will be no need to visit the electronics firms until I take delivery, although I still will have to purchase several standard parts, such as flat screens."
"And the shuttle manufacturer wants us to approve the interior arrangements."
"Yes, but there’s nothing suspicious replacing Vishnu’s shuttle."
"Except they may find out that we want dual control."
"True; however, I doubt they’ll try to find out the technical details of the shuttle, once they realize that the reason for having one built is that a standard shuttle doesn’t fit into Vishnu’s airlock, and we stressed that point with the people there several times. I’m pretty sure that will be the first thing they tell them if they’re questioned."
"We cannot avoid taking some risks and this is a minor one, although I hate to think that Aros might be ravaged by mining."
"They may try, but the technical difficulties of working with only mechanical equipment are just too great."
"I hope so. Our major difficulty will arise when we need to test the equipment."
"I think it would be best to go off-planet. We could go to Palo. That would hardly be suspicious, and then you could take Vishnu some distance into space, while I stay on Palo with Anouk for the tests."
"No, it has to be the other way round. I know when I’m in danger, you don’t. So you have to take Anouk into space for the test. I also think that we should time the test for shortly before the conference. In fact, I stay on Palo while you return to Androma for the conference and we make the tests while you are in transit. If it works, you present at the conference, if it doesn’t, you come to fetch me and we go back to the drawing board — another of these strange expressions. What’s a drawing board?"
"I think before they had AIAD — AI aided design — the plans for anything to be built were hand-drawn on paper, using a big board — a drawing board.
"Is it not curious how all these expressions have survived for centuries?"
He responded with an amused smile. "Yes, but this is a good plan."
* * *
They were not invited to the following Sunday’s dinner. Yuen-mong visited her grandfather the Tuesday after and spent time with Mai.
"I missed you at the dinner last Sunday. Why didn’t
you attend?" Mai asked accusingly.
"We were not invited."
"But why?"
"No need to ask. I’m not judged fit to be a Foundation member."
"You have embarrassed the Foundation like no other woman has done before. Pat wants you expelled. Aren’t you afraid?"
"No, Mai, Except for the last few weeks, I have lived without any knowledge of the Foundation. So it’s no great deal to me whether I’m a member or not."
"You’re such a strange person. I wish I had your courage, but I’m too timid, I have no confidence in myself."
"Maybe I can help you, and the first step would be to make a life-size sculpture of me."
"You’re really serious about that? You didn’t just say it the other day? Would you trust me?"
"Yes. Tell me what’s involved."
"I would first make hand drawings of you."
"Why not video recordings?"
"I may make that too, but a sculpture isn’t intended to be a perfect reproduction, but the artist’s vision of the model and that can already be expressed by the hand drawing."
"I understand. You want to get started?"
"Now?"
"Yes, or don’t you have the time now?"
"Oh, you are such a woman of action. I would dither about for weeks."
Yuen-mong had already begun removing her clothing. "Where do you want me to stand and in what pose?"
"Over near the window — nobody will be able to see you. Could you stand as if you were shooting an arrow from a bow? … Oh, you’re not depilated." Mai blushed deeply.
"Depilated? I have shaved my underarms and legs. I noticed other women seem to do that." She saw Mai gaze at her pubic hair and looked down to it. "You mean women remove the hair here too?"
"Yes, all do," Mai murmured and looked away.
"But why? I like my black curls. They give me a sense of modesty."
"I’m sorry, Yuen-mong. I was just shocked. I have never seen a woman with hair. But I think you’re right. It looks good and you’re so beautiful. You have the body of an athlete. I’ll quickly record it to remind me of details and then I’ll draw you."
She took video shots from various angles and made three rough sketches on a drawing pad. Half-an-hour later she was finished. Yuen-mong got dressed again and then inspected the sketches. She liked what she saw, and was surprised by the strength she saw in her muscles.
"Oh, I wish I could draw like this," she exclaimed.
Mai blushed. "You should see my father. He draws one line that is perfect, while it takes me half-a-dozen to bring out the same effect."
"Yes, I admired the charcoal drawings in his office. That girl is you, right?"
"Yes, when I was five… It’s a pity he doesn’t paint anymore. He was very talented. I got my artistic side from him."
They arranged that Mai would tell her when she needed to pose for the detailed sculpting in two to three weeks time. She promised to fashion a bow and an arrow similar to the ones she had used on Aros.
* * *
When she returned home, Atun told her that he had received the signal that Vishnu had been entered illegally.
"Should we go there and inspect it?" she asked.
"No, there’s no hurry. We behave as if we didn’t know. Anyway there’s nothing there for them. But we can expect a break-in here any day now."
They received the signal the next day that their apartment had been entered, but not Anouk’s, while all three of them were on an excursion on Lake Carda, In fact, they had arranged that trip in a highly visible manner by buying the tickets in person the day before.
On their return, whenever moving around, Atun inspected their apartment in an inconspicuous manner that did not give away what he was doing. During that time, they talked mainly about how they had enjoyed the trip and that they should do more of this sort of leisure activity. He finally spotted two small microchip disks, one attached to the underside of their apartment comunit in their lounge, the other under the bedframe in their bedroom. A more thorough search revealed no other ones.
"So they only installed listening devices, no video equipment which is a relief," he said when they were both in the bathroom.
"Will you remove them?"
"No, we will leave them —"
"— and if we want to talk without being overheard, we have to do it in here or the kitchen, if we whisper?"
"Here yes, but not in the kitchen. These devices are highly sensitive. They pick up whispers. We must close the door even here. And no noise anymore when we make love."
"Why? I don’t care if they hear us. In fact, why don’t we record it and then play it several times a day?"
"I believe you would do that," he said laughing, grabbing her in a hug.
* * *
Later that same week they went to their first concert at the Foundation Concert Hall. Although the invitation was for Foundation members only, Yuen-mong was determined that Atun would come along too. She had decided to openly flirt with expulsion.
"Do you think this is a good idea, to provoke them?"
"Yes, it’s a diversionary tactic. They’ll then get preoccupied by my misbehavior."
"But you might get expelled."
"I doubt they’ll dare as long as I’m in the good book with the old man. Anyway, once instantcom has been demonstrated, they’ll ask you to join. Don’t they invite famous inventors to become members?" she replied with a twinkle in her eyes.
"Yuen-mong, you amaze me anew every day."
"And I plan to continue doing that."
They again walked up through the park. To her surprise, the ushers at the entrance did not check tickets. She assumed that nobody would even think of violating Foundation rules. They met Syd Twan in the entrance hall, and for a moment his face turned into a frown and then he smiled at her.
"What a pleasure to see you again, Yuen-mong. I have missed you. I wondered what has kept you so quiet." He quickly glanced at Atun. "Good evening to you too, Mr. Caruna."
"You worried in vain, Syd," she replied and sensed how her smile stirred him up.
"Will you join me and my friends in my stall?"
"Thank you, Syd, but I would rather not compromise you." She winked.
He responded with a short laugh and said: "That’s considerate of you. See you after the concert. I hope you will enjoy this performance. It’s a galactic premier, conducted by Master Mendel himself."
"Who is Mendel?" she asked Atun as they went to the nearest hall entrance.
"Mendel is one of the leading contemporary composers. He’s famous for his extreme disharmonies."
When they walked down the aisle to find a seat near the front, the young aristocrat who had called her a cripple came walking up, his wrist in a cast. She again noticed how all women stepped dutifully aside to let him pass. He came to a sudden halt in front of her, his face contorting with hate. For a second, she wondered what he was going to do, and so must have many of the spectators. She could feel their minds focused on her, as a momentary hush descended on the hall. But then he stepped aside and let her pass.
"Thank you," she said with a smile and continued walking down.
She had no doubt that at that moment she had become the topic of conversation of most people in the hall. They found seats in the third row, a young couple between them and the aisle.
"You’re Yuen-mong Shen. I recognized you," the false blonde woman said and blushed instantly. "I apologize," she murmured.
"No reason to apologize. Yes, I’m Yuen-mong and this is my companion, Atun Caruna."
"Sorry, I’m usually not that maladroit. I’m Moira Grant and this is my husband, George. Pleased to meet you."
They nodded to each other.
"Is this your first concert here?"
"My first concert ever, except for the concerts of the dawn birds on Aros," Yuen-mong replied with a chuckle.
"You may then find Mendel’s music somewhat strange and taxing. The concert next week might have been a bet
ter introduction. The famous flautist Anco Molena will play classical pieces; in fact it’s the first of a series of three evenings. I like him very much."
The lights dimmed at that point, and silence fell on the spectators as the conductor walked to the podium and bowed several times to the polite applause of the audience. He struck her as a proud, vain man, and his mental emanations confirmed that.
He tapped the baton on the lectern impatiently several times to get the full attention of the musicians and then raised the baton for the first beat. As the first striding discords hit her, she contracted involuntarily, startled. It felt like the shrieks of a hundred craws, going from one jarring discord to others in a random pattern. It was as if it gave sound to the chaotic mind pattern of the savages. She had to restrain herself from not putting her hands over her ears to shield herself. She looked at the title in the program: ‘The Dawn of the Universe.’ Creating order from chaos? she wondered, expecting the dissonances to resolve gradually into harmonies.
After a while she was able to disassociate herself from the music and tune in on the minds of the people around her. With a few exceptions, what she found was distress, anxiety, even outright fear. Why do people suffer through this? she asked herself.
The dissonances did not lessen, instead became more strident. She endured the cacophony until the end of the first movement. While the hall resounded with polite clapping and the composer displayed a condescending smile, barely acknowledging the applause, she whispered to Atun: "Let’s go," and got up.
"You can’t leave before the intermission," he whispered alarmed.
"Then watch me."
She smiled at Moira who, taken aback, moved her legs aside, and she squeezed through to the aisle, Atun followed her hurriedly. All eyes were on them as they started walking up the aisle. The applause petered out abruptly, and the conductor’s face displayed outrage. But her action triggered an unexpected response. First a few and then more and more, mainly young people got up, most waiting for them to pass before entering the aisle. By the time they left the hall, at least a third of the audience was on the move.
