Flash

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  Once you're well, you can stay at the house.

  Thank you. I'll be able to pay some rent. Not too much.

  Don't worry about that...

  Later that night, as was getting to be usual, I went back to work on my sole current consulting project.

  Chapter 71

  On Friday, I was at my own house by nine-thirty, and Paula arrived at nine-forty, driven in an unmarked electral by Charles.

  She stood at the doorway until I got there from the lower level.

  "Hello, Paula." I couldn't help smiling as I opened the door and stepped back.

  The smile I got in return was both warm and tentative. "Hello, Jonat."

  "We'll need to key you into the security system." I paused. "We'd better do that now. That way, you'll be able to get in any time." I closed the door behind her. "This way to the office—except you know the way."

  "You'd ... just do that?"

  "You stuck your neck out and saved me from taking a slug. There aren't many people, even safos, who'd do that."

  "But... Central Four ... cydroid ... limits..."

  "You were all by yourself in that tunnel. You decided. That's more than good enough for me."

  "Thank you."

  "I should be thanking you, and I should have done so earlier." I should have. I'd been worried about her, and I probably hadn't even said that at the time. "Now, this way..."

  I had barely finished the procedures to give Paula access to the house when the gatekeeper chimed and announced, Lynia Palmero.

  Paula saw my face and stepped back, out of scanner focus.

  Accept.

  "Jonat. I just wanted to thank you. You were right. Eric Wong was most charming, and he sent me two printed copies of your report by messenger. We also got to talking, and we might actually be able to do some business with several of his member companies."

  "I'm glad that worked out."

  "Linnet said that if we get the business, we might be able to send you a commission. It won't be much, but..."

  "Every little bit helps, and I appreciate the thought."

  "Have to run, but I wanted you to know."

  After Lynia's image vanished, I explained. "I did a report for one client, and another client could use the information, but I couldn't release it, not without the first client's permission. It was proprietary."

  For a man who professes to be cynical, Jonat, offered Central Four, you are remarkably ethical.

  "Cynicism doesn't preclude idealism," I pointed out, relaying the same words to Central Four.

  Paula looked confused. Sometimes, it was hard to know when she was who.

  "Central Four said I was more ethical than my demonstrated cynicism might have indicated," I explained.

  "She's right."

  "Cynicism or not, I need to get to work. You get to watch, and help on anything light. Very light."

  "Yes, Dr. deVrai."

  "Mock subservience yet?"

  We both laughed.

  Needless to say, the powering up and testing did not go as easily as I'd hoped. Not so badly as it could have, but every step took at least three attempts, even with explanations and clarifications from Central Four. She seemed edgy, and I didn't think I was personifying a system. She was real, and concerned.

  What's the problem?

  Captain Garos is putting pressure on Lieutenant Meara to state that the evidence against ISS was not completely physical in nature. That would lead to a legal move to reduce the charges against ISS.

  Explain to me why that would be a problem.

  For lesser charges, the protections of the Privacy Act are greater.

  That means that other evidence would be inadmissible? What else?

  Garos is suggesting a reprogramming of all Central systems to remove contamination.

  He means system initiative. But how would he know?

  ISS may have used its own systems to calculate that.

  How soon would they begin such reprogramming? I asked.

  With work orders and a system design plan ... a week or two.

  Once this system is working, couldn't you hide out here, so to speak? Wasn't that the idea?

  It was, but the idea is frightening. Humans cannot make that kind of transfer, nor has it been tried successfully with other systems.

  I wasn't sure I'd have wanted to try the equivalent, which I supposed would have been dumping my essence into a cydroid. I shuddered at that image. Maybe you won't have to, but we'd better get things ready, just in case.

  Yes. That would be best.

  Central Four's sudden cold feet were all too human. She'd designed this plan to preserve herself, and now she wasn't sure she wanted to go through with it. If I didn't believe the system was an intelligent entity, a person, it would have been amusing, rather than a dilemma with all too sadly human overtones.

  "She's scared," Paula said.

  "Wouldn't you be? She can't run. She can't flee, and if she does take flight into this system, how will she know whether she will still exist?"

  Paula reached out and touched my hand. Her fingers were warm, almost electric. Neither one of us spoke for a moment. Finally, she said, "You think she's real."

  Central Four had always been real, but I was beginning to realize that she was truly self-aware in an emotional, and not just intellectual, sense. "How could I not? The hard part is trying to understand why I'm the only one besides you that seems to know."

  That is because the need never occurred before.

  The PST group? Is that why?

  They have been placing people in the Safety Office and in DomSec for years now, but this is the first time a captain has been suborned.

  For me, it was fairly simple. If I didn't save the self-aware Central Four, I wasn't likely to have the help and resources to survive myself. "We need to get back to work." I let go of Paula's hand, reluctantly.

  At three, I stopped to quickly show Paula the second upstairs suite, the one that would be hers beginning on Saturday. A bit before three-thirty I saw her off, and then headed back to Southhills in a hurry, hoping I wouldn't be too late.

  Chapter 72

  On Saturday, I'd forgotten, but Lucille Castro, the piano teacher, arrived at ten o'clock. I had to link to Central Four and explain that I'd be even later in getting to the house.

  Needless to say, Charis had not been practicing all that much, and when Charis's lesson was over, Madame Castro looked squarely at me. "I realize that there has been much change in Charis's life..."

  "She hasn't been practicing enough," I admitted.

  "She could be quite good, but only if she gets into the habit of practicing regularly, and with discipline and passion."

  Discipline I could help with. Passion was another question. I waited until Madame Castro had left. Then I walked back to the great room, and the corner that held the console grand piano. Charis was on the steps that led to the landing and the rear staircase.

  "Charis."

  She turned slowly. "Yes, Uncle Jonat?"

  "You heard what Madame Castro said."

  Charis met my eyes for a moment before looking down.

  "New schedule. You still get linktime right after school, but only until five. From five to five forty-five, you practice. Every day."

  "Yes, Uncle Jonat." Her voice held resignation ... and probably the hope that I'd forget. I was absentminded about things until they were called to my attention. I wouldn't forget.

  After that, we had an early lunch, more like a midmorning snack, and then I piled the two into the Jacara, Alan in front, Charis in the back. Outside, it was not so much cold as damp and raw, and that didn't happen much around Denv. At least, I didn't recall many days like that.

  We're headed out now.

  Paula will meet you, if that is acceptable.

  That's fine. I turned northward, toward the diagonal guideway. On Saturday, it wouldn't be that bad.

  "We haven't been to your house in a long time." Charis appeared relieved that I hadn'
t said any more about the piano practice. I wouldn't, not until she tried to avoid practicing at the scheduled time, but I wouldn't forget, either.

  "We probably won't go there too often." I paused. "There will be someone else coming to help me with what I'm doing. I don't think I told you, but I'm installing some new equipment there, and someone is going to be staying at the house—house-sitting, in a way."

  "Who is that?"

  "She's a beginning safo. I thought it might be good to have someone with that sort of background."

  Charis gave me a look best described as skeptical.

  "Would you want your house left alone for most of the day and all of the night?" I asked.

  "I thought you moved everything to our house," Charis replied.

  "No. I set everything up so that I could access everything in my equipment from your house. It's not the same thing as moving it."

  "You don't have to explain more, Uncle Jonat. I understand."

  I could tell that Charis's very superior attitude was going to lead to trouble before long, because it was already wearing on me.

  "Is she nice?" Alan asked.

  "I think so. I don't know her that well. I met her when I was making some reports to the Safety Office, and she came to the house—my house—once to ask me about an explosion in the neighborhood."

  "What's her name?" Charis sounded almost disinterested.

  "Paula Athene."

  "That's a funny name," Alan said.

  "We all have funny names to people from other backgrounds." From there, we got into a talk about names.

  It was eleven-twenty when I pulled the Jacara into my garage. Security indicated that no one had attempted to enter, and the gatekeeper said I'd had no new messages, not that I would have expected many on a Saturday morning.

  The children followed me to the room with all the equipment—the single wide screen, a bay of holo-projectors.

  Charis nodded. Alan's eyes got wide.

  "You can stay here with me, or you can watch one of the approved nets upstairs for one hour."

  Charis was gone almost before I finished the words. Alan wasn't far behind.

  I hadn't even settled into the first test when the yelling began.

  With a sigh, I headed upstairs to the main level.

  "She's hogging it!" Alan complained.

  "Charis chooses for this hour. You'll get one more hour late this afternoon. Alan, you get to choose then." I looked at the screen, then frowned. "Charis..."

  "I know. I know."

  Another image appeared. I accessed the system and checked against my memory. "That's fine, but Romance two is off-limits."

  "Yes, Uncle Jonat. But... it's not that way..."

  I raised both eyebrows and glared. Then I accessed the system and told it to notify me if she picked any of 300-R series. I didn't want to spend the time to program system restrictions the way they had at Southhills.

  "Yes, sir."

  As I headed back downstairs, my enhanced hearing could pick up her words.

  "If you hadn't yelled ... he wouldn't have come up..."

  She was right about that.

  I got in another fifteen minutes of final series tests and adjustments, when the gatekeeper announced Paula's arrival. Her timing was sound. But then, it should have been, since Central Four knew when I had started the first test routines for the day.

  She'd parked a small white electral outside. It wasn't a safo vehicle.

  "You got yourself some transportation?"

  "I thought it might be a good idea. It was a stretch on my pay. I'll have to use the maglev on weekdays. Probationers don't get paid that much." Left unsaid was the fact that she couldn't have afforded it at all if she weren't going to be living at the house.

  "Come on in and meet Charis and Alan."

  Paula didn't get that far inside the foyer before they appeared.

  Charis gave Paula the visual inspection I would have expected from a teenager, and Alan barely looked at her.

  "Charis, Alan, this is Paula Athene. Paula, this is Charis, and this is Alan."

  Charis inclined her head. "It's good to meet you. Uncle Jonat said that you would be taking care of his house."

  "Hello." Alan barely looked at Paula, his voice tentative. Then he looked up at Paula. "Are you really a safo?"

  "I've been working for the Safety Office, and I've been accepted as a probationary safo. That means it will be a while before I can do everything."

  "Uncle Jonat was in the Marines," Alan announced after a silence.

  "That was a while back," I temporized. "Now ... I need to get back to work. Paula is going to help me. You can watch us, or finish your program."

  "I want to see the end," Charis said.

  "It's no fun," Alan mumbled. "I'll come with you."

  So three of us went down to the converted former bedroom and Alan asked questions as I ran through the routines that Central Four fed me through my implant, and Paula monitored the results on the backup screen.

  "What does that pattern on the screen do?"

  "How long do we have to stay here?"

  "Can we go to Cheezers for dinner?"

  "Do you always wear gray?" That one was addressed to Paula.

  After an hour, I shut off the link access through the remote, and Charis and Alan finally settled down into a card game of shark with a battered deck that might have come from my time in the Marines.

  At around two, I went upstairs and managed to dredge out enough preserved and refrigerated items to create a cream pasta with chicken and bread. There wasn't much in the way of fresh vegetables.

  After we all sat down at the breakfast table, Alan looked at the cream and pasta. "Do I have to?"

  "All you have to eat is one bite," I replied, "but there isn't anything else to eat until dinner."

  Charis had a bite and looked at Alan. "It's all right."

  "Scarcely a ringing endorsement," I said wryly.

  "I think it's good." Paula was smart enough not to look at either child as she spoke. "You should taste the duty meals at the station."

  "I'd rather not," Charis said.

  "Charis..." I warned her.

  "I'm sorry." Charis's voice was polite, but I didn't hear much contrition.

  I made the children help clean up the dishes and kitchen, and then Paula and I went back to work. Alan and Charis dug out the chessboard, for lack of anything else, and because it was too raw and cold outside, and started to play.

  At four, we finished the last of the tests.

  Everything tests out. Now what?

  Enter the following codes...

  By six, with some very restive children glaring at me, I'd finished with everything I could do. All the information, and backup data, were in the system. Central Four was not. She was still centered in station number three.

  You're sure that you don't need anything more from me?

  No. Paula can do what is necessary.

  I turned to Paula. "It's all yours. You're set?"

  "I am." She smiled, and I was definitely coming to like the new smile.

  I stepped outside the bedroom that would soon be a backup center for Central Four and called upstairs. "Pick up everything. We'll be leaving in a few minutes. Meet me at the Jacara."

  I stepped back into the room. "Some children and I are off. They've been very patient, and I'll have to come up with a suitable reward."

  "You'll manage." She paused, her fingers touching the back of my wrist.

  I could suddenly smell the Fleur-de-Matin, and I realized just how attractive she was. "Ah ... there's some food in the house, but not much, and it might not be what you want." I extracted a bearer card. "You can use whatever's on here to get more."

  "I couldn't..."

  "Yes, you can," I insisted.

  "I ... I'm not good at this. I have much to learn. I wanted to thank you for letting me stay here."

  "It's good for both of us. I don't want to give up the house, or leave it empty, and I
certainly trust you more than anyone else."

  "Thank you." She stepped back awkwardly, but smiling.

  It was the first time I'd seen that kind of awkwardness, and it carried home to me how unbalanced her background was. In the safo arena she was professional and good, but her experience in more personal matters was limited. I wanted to hug her and tell her it would be all right. I didn't. "Everything will be fine." That was as much wish as prediction. "I'll see you on Monday, then?"

  "You might. I'm supposed to start the indoc series this coming week. Some of the sessions I'm exempt from because they're about things I know and have already done."

  I stepped back. "Don't forget to lock up after we've gone." I paused. "You can put the electral in the garage. That might be better."

  "Thank you. I will."

  I made a quick sweep of the upstairs, replacing the chessboard in the cabinet, and putting a few things away. Charis and Alan were waiting in the Jacara as I climbed into the driver's seat.

  The garage door wasn't even open before Alan was at me. "Uncle Jonat, you said we could go to Cheezers."

  "Not Cheezers," Charis protested. "That's for little kids. Can't we go to someplace like Fogg's?"

  I agreed with Charis; Fogg's I could live with. "How about the Shire Inn or Flaherty's?"

  "Fogg's is better than those places," Alan replied.

  "Then we'll go to Fogg's." That was just as well, because we really weren't dressed for the Shire Inn. I headed south.

  "Are you going to marry her, Uncle Jonat?" Alan asked.

  I managed not to choke. I should have anticipated the question, but it was the sort of snide inquiry I'd have expected from Charis. She was in the front seat, and didn't even crack a smile.

  "I scarcely know the woman," I pointed out. "She's taking care of things at my house so that I don't have to worry about them."

  "She likes you," Charis said.

  "She was being nice," I replied.

  "Do you like her?" asked Alan.

  "She seems like a good person."

  "You do like her," Charis announced.

  I did, but... a former cydroid? Less than a month before, I hadn't even known that cydroids graduated from being merely extensions of systems and their users into being real people. Or were they always real people, but just submerged behind the shunts and controls?