Moving Earth

by Dean C. Moore

  “Shit, yeah. Point taken. Our bad.” Skyhawk regarded the others. “Come on, guys. How about some strip poker with the holo cards, huh?”

  He got nods all around.

  They collected their hoverboards, rebooted them—it wasn’t like they weren’t all techies—and formed a circle overhead around an imaginary table fit for King Arthur’s court. Their cards showed various nude femme fatales posed uniquely for each of the cards, and with the proper number and suit designation at the edge of the frame. The saucy women were life-size holos. The Alpha Unit team members’ betting had already begun with chip trays materialized out of thin air besides the bettors.

  Various Kappa Team operatives were levitating off the ground by various means to check out the game. They were each picking a bettor to congregate around and root for.

  As the Alpha Unit team members were objectifying women with their female nudes, several of the female Alpha Unit members on the ground took notice.

  Two at the bar that had caught Leon’s eyes were evaluating the situation. The one that had nudged her partner asked, “We gonna stand for this?” The other one looked up at the life-size hologram playing cards forming a carousel in front of the players, some cards facing out, others facing in. One femme fatale had a cybernetic leg that was also a weapon. Another had a cybernetic arm, another cybernetic breasts, another a cybernetic head. Some of the females were not just cybernetic hotties, they defied all traditional stereotypes of beauty. “Ah, the nerds…Let them have their fun.” Caroline, doing the talking, realized she was one of the pinups on the cards. “Probably just too embarrassed to ask us on a date or to join them in a drink directly, so this is their idea of a roundabout come on.”

  Realizing she was another of the pinups, Razaria sighed. “Yeah, I guess they get a pass. Presuming the low cards show one or more of them knowing what to do with the females on the faces of the cards, the come on might just work.”

  She and Caroline shared a laugh and went back to their drinking. They noticed the Alpha Unit teens must have been listening in on their banter, because the cards morphed accordingly, eliciting a smile from both the women, and several others depicted in the cards observing the game in progress.

  Cassandra groaned, taking in the drama with the overhead poker game, shook her head, grabbed another cue ball off the pool table next to them that had been abandoned in favor of the poker game overhead, and used it to continue her game with Leon.

  Leon just smiled, content to see her police the crowd rather than run roughshod over it. “You’ve come a long way, lady. So much further than the rest of us.”

  She hit her ball into the hole she was aiming for on the pool table and gazed up at his remark, smiled at the compliment. That in itself was a first.

  Made curious by the ongoing ruckus of sounds, Leon gazed at the table. She’d managed to hit all of her balls in the holes at once. He grimaced. “Maybe not as far as I thought.”

  “You’re nanite upgraded, too. What’s your excuse?”

  He shook his head and hit the cue ball. Managed to sink just one in the hole. “Don’t expect you to learn everything at once, Cassandra.”

  “You might settle for learning pool. You realize I won already?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I forget to explain we were playing Eight Ball?”

  She struck the stick against the table like a whip. “If you’re going to withhold information like that, maybe you should be playing Solo.” She stormed off.

  Leon made a sour face. “Two steps forward, one step back. You’d think we were ballroom dancers.” Though he did wonder what nerve Solo had managed to strike with her; Leon doubted he was the sole source of all her consternation. What did Solo withhold of late to piss her off? Probably just not telling her all that she was capable of. That would do it. But Leon doubted Solo himself knew and there was any way of knowing short of her maturing enough for the abilities to emerge on her own. And she was likely impatient with herself as always.

  ONE HUNDRED FORTY-TWO

  ABOARD THE NAUTILUS

  THE NEXT MORNING

  Leon couldn’t believe what was walking toward him, leaving puddles off his wet feet—though, the puddles ultimately caught up to him. Few had clearance to visit Leon in this section of the ship, where he took his private repose, staring out at the stars, few Mother didn’t divert if she didn’t entirely shoot them down. “You’re one of those DNA soup guys,” Leon said, trying to restrain his thunderstruck response, “a living extension of Mother’s backup brain.”

  “Yes, Sir. Arbitro, at your service. Natty hacked the DNA soup to create a bridge between the backup brain and Mother. He was afraid she might misjudge what information you could handle when, without feeling overwhelmed or discouraged by knowing too much of what lays ahead. So Natty created us to make better educated guesses on what you could and couldn’t handle.”

  “And what do we call you guys?”

  “Regal Rhos, sir.”

  “Okay. And why’s that?” Leon asked, again checking his emotions and facial expressions.

  “We specialize in moving between realms, as in the seven heavens, and Dante’s nine levels of hell. You understand, I’m speaking metaphorically? There are only so many bands to the rainbow, but innumerable hues.”

  “Ah, huh.” It was the most profound response Leon could manage. The guy he was looking at was a speckled green, just like bioluminescent algae. But, on the inside, his body was all supercomputer. He probably had more intelligence in his fingernail than Leon had in his entire head—many times over.

  “You have something to report, soldier?” Leon asked.

  He panned over to Patent who had a shit-eating grin beaming out from behind the cigar in his mouth.

  “You can speak in front of him,” Leon said.

  “Of course, sir. We’ve detected a sufficiently evil trans-galactic civilization that Mother feels will blend rather well two levels down from our realm—which is more akin to the Christian purgatories—two levels into the Dantean hell worlds, I mean, sir. You understand they aren’t at all as he depicted?”

  “And why is this significant?” Leon asked guardedly.

  “It’s possible we can beam the entire TGC into that specific wavelength, or nether region, or floor in hell… I’m sorry, I’m coming up short in earth-appropriate metaphors.”

  “Do press on in any event, soldier,” Patent said, from just a foot or so behind Leon, taking the cigar out of his mouth.

  “The idea is to relocate the TGC without them even knowing. If they’re such a good fit for that Dantean realm…”

  “Then they might never know they’ve been relocated, hence no reprisal,” Leon said. He nodded. “It’s a good idea. But we’ll hold off for now. My first step is to make friends, before we go playing with TGCs against their will. Such an aggressive initial move might get even the TGCs that might make good friends to turn against us.”

  “Or just the opposite,” Patent said, piping up again.

  The Regal Rho bowed to Leon and Patent both, and excused himself, destined to return to his group mind, briefly leaving wet puddles on the floor where he stepped before the splashes caught up with him. Even the smart floor knew enough not to absorb the liquid.

  “Makes you yearn for the days when Omega Force was the solution to every insurmountable problem, doesn’t it?” Patent said, “that required Special Forces, anyway.”

  “Yep. I still haven’t gotten over being overly impressed by Alpha Unit, far less these new Special Forces units that have been brought on line.”

  “Well, that’s probably for the best,” Patent replied. “My teens live to be revered. A lot of self-esteem issues at that age I’m glad I don’t have to wrestle with anymore.”

  Patent puffed on his cigar. “Did that Regal Rho operative just say beam a transgalactic civilization out of this universe?”

  “He sure did.”

  “And we can do that?”

  “I’ll have to check with Dillon on that,”
Leon said, “and get back to you.”

  Leon sighed. “I get why Natty came up with the Regal Rhos. If someone had told me before I was ready to hear it what he just did…”

  “Yeah, I guess we can keep Earth in the dark for right now. Their oligarchs will be richer than gods just mining the asteroid belts. Dreaming about building their own space stations and setting up colonies throughout the solar system.”

  “Speaking of… we didn’t put any Dead Zone artificial habitats in our solar system, did we?” Leon asked.

  “Noooooo!” Patent coughed on the smoke from his own cigar going into his lungs, which it wasn’t meant to do. “You haven’t forgotten what army intelligence is like, have you? Best they evolve on their own timeclock.”

  “We might need to get Psi Force to communicate with Hollywood, supply them with material to help catch people up to speed on Earth—in the least threatening way possible.”

  “Honestly, I think Hollywood is doing that already. More like we might want Psi Force to get inside the heads of those individuals throughout the Gypsy Galaxy Grouping who know things they shouldn’t about what’s going on in the universe, about other aliens they’ve come in contact with. It might bear on our survival as much as theirs.”

  Leon nodded. “See it gets done.”

  ONE HUNDRED FORTY-THREE

  GYPSY GALAXY

  EARTH

  GLOBAL HIGH COMMAND CONFERENCE CENTER

  Sonny stood to the back of the room, waiting for the powers that be to vent, Gerlari, his Blue, by his side. With everyone shouting adamantly over one another, the one sitting at the head of the table had to hold her arms out to get the din in the room to subside, to something that facilitated actual communication. The chairlady was built like a professional bodybuilder and so looked more than up to the task of wrestling anyone to the floor if need be to bring order to this joint. Up until now, Sonny had just been getting a lot of nervous looks from the ones holding their tongues, the security in the room, and the lesser of the oligarchs, made highly uncomfortable by Sonny’s and the Blue’s presence.

  Waiting for the prattlers to calm themselves, Sonny occupied himself with the sweeping view of San Francisco Bay out the wrap-around windows.

  Once she managed to silence the flapping tongues, the chairperson directed her comments at Sonny. “Forgive us. I’ve assured my partners in crime that everything which goes on in this room will not get back to Leon. They’re not so convinced. I imagine you’ll have to leave for the conversation to get really juicy. But while you’re here, if you wouldn’t mind enlightening us.”

  Sarcastic laughter, snorts, and nervous throat-clearing sounds followed in the wake of the chairperson’s remarks.

  “I hear a few of you chuckling at the word ‘enlighten,’” Sonny said. “I could barely restrain from laughing myself. I’m not usually in the enlightenment business. I’m a bigger crook than anyone in this room—no small boast, I assure you, since I’m well aware of your curriculum vitae.”

  Sonny paused to accommodate the anxious shuffling of bodyweight in chairs and the attendant squeaks. “So, let me lay it out for you. Every good snake knows when to withdraw into his warren, wait for the hot sun to pass, before coming out in the cool of night.

  “Leon is the brightest sun you’ll ever encounter,” he continued. “He lives for an egalitarian age that he is determined to bring upon the entire cosmos.”

  More restless stirs across the room, and shout-whispers. “Madman.” “Could this get any worse?” The chairperson had to gesture to quiet the room down yet again.

  “The smart money says you play along to get along, at least for now,” Sonny advised. “I suggest you turn this wastewater world of yours into, how do you say in your culture, Shangri-La, as soon as possible. Clean up the environment. Spread wealth and abundance as if it were the plague. Empower the little guy as if he were the next J. P. Morgan.”

  When several of the powers that be sprang from their chairs like rockets lifting off, the chairperson reprised her settle-your-asses-down gesture.

  Sonny continued, “Keep up the subterfuge long enough to get out into the cosmos where you can be taken more seriously, and where you can make some real profits.”

  “What you’re suggesting…” one of the hecklers sounded up.

  This time Sonny extended his arm for silence. “I will see to it that asteroids are moved into close-earth orbit for you to mine, to generate the wealth you need for the masses, without reaching into your pockets, and to ensure your percentage of the pie doesn’t shrink, even as the pie gets a lot bigger.” This time suspicious looks were covering for shrewd calculations going on beneath the veneers of their expressions.

  “With such overtures,” Sonny continued, “it will be easier for me to argue that Leon give you free roam over the solar system to see what you can do with it. And I will provide the technology that will allow you to make the most of that advantage while you can.”

  Sonny paused just long enough for the implications to sink in. “But, ladies and gentlemen, Leon is no more a man to be toyed with than I. If you want a seat at the table, I suggest you learn to play the game at my level, or be eaten alive. There are such big fish in those seas beyond your stars that your only defense right now is that you’re too insignificant for anyone to take notice of. But, if you play your cards right, the day will come when that’s no longer true.

  “On that day, you will come to appreciate the true value of the yin and yang that Leon and I represent. We each have our place in making your wildest dreams come true. I suggest you trust us to do our work, as we trust you to carry out your end of things.”

  “Trust?” The latest heckler said the word in such a way that if he’d stuffed any more sarcasm into it, his implied heavy-heartedness might have been enough to drag down the future with it.

  Who knows? It might yet, Sonny thought.

  The heckler continued, a fat man, flushed, who with any luck would stroke out before the got the rest of his dig in, “I say you’re overplaying your hand. Very possibly at the behest of some very down-to-earth player in this room who managed to procure a starship in secret, waiting for an opportunity like this to get all these sharks to swim in a direction of his choosing instead of feeding on one another.” He glanced over at the side of the table with CEOs from Microsoft, Intel, Google, DARPA, the military-industrial-complex private sector chieftains, et al, as if it were just the kind of shit they’d pull.

  “Gerlari,” Sonny said, “If you would please take that aircraft carrier docked bayside and launch it into a stable geosynchronous orbit. They can use it as an artificial reef to help give them a leg up with the asteroid mining. Oh wait, don’t forget to retune all of Earth’s giant telescopes first to capture the event for those who think seeing is not believing.”

  Gerlari flitted her eyes, the only real sign that she had prefaced her next action with retuning the telescopes, held out her left, non-dominant hand, and the aircraft carrier out the window started levitating out of the water.

  Gasps or no gasps, everyone ran to the window wall, pressed their faces up against it like goldfish who knew what the human picking up the bottle marked “goldfish food” meant.

  A few seconds later, the aircraft carrier shot like a rocket into the atmosphere and out of view.

  Sonny continued, “And, Gerlari, if you would please drag an asteroid into orbit for them, put it near the aircraft carrier, to make their jump into the future easier for them. I don’t much care what asteroid belt you drag it out of, just make sure the meteor is heavy-metal and rare-earths rich. And just to be kind, pick one with an element or two not in the table of elements, whose discovery will hasten their access to the rest of their solar system. And once again, please make sure the telescopes record what’s going on. We can’t forget how primitive these people are and the degree to which they depend on tech that is not built into their own bodies.”

  Sonny pointed to the big screen so the powers that be could see for themsel
ves what was going on. They all jumped back, thinking the asteroid flying their way was not going to slow down in time to keep from ending them all. But Gerlari stopped it perfectly, almost within a fishing line’s distance of the aircraft carrier.

  One of the oligarchs went up to the screen to run his hand over the aircraft carrier. “Are those our sailors walking the deck, staring at the asteroid?” he said.

  Sonny turned to Gerlari and smiled, then addressed the flummoxed man. “Though I did not think to request it, Gerlari realized there were sailors on that aircraft carrier. She chose to teleport just enough hive-mind-arrayed nanites from her body into them so they could survive the trip. They will likely be her most primitive nanites, but advanced enough to help fast-track you getting the rest of the way into the solar system.”

  Sonny sighed. “Now, people, with that one asteroid alone I’ve generated more wealth for you than the gross world product that this planet is capable of producing for the next hundred years on its own.” Sonny paused for that to sink in. “And I’ve put you within reach of that much more.”

  The faces now were more thunderstruck than suspicious. Once the shock wore off, there would be plenty of time for suspicions and fears to rule the day once again.

  “And now,” Sonny announced, “I must leave.” He smiled absently at the Egyptian hieroglyphics dug out of some crypt in the sands around Cairo hanging against one of the few sections of wall space, as with the giant monitor, that wasn’t window space. On the hieroglyph was depicted an image of Anubis, the Egyptian god with the head of a dog that symbolized rebirth. Maybe the image would help grease Sonny’s rhetoric enough so it could pass through the labyrinthine minds of these twisted fucks.

  “Decide to follow the path I’m pointing you down or not,” Sonny said in closing. “It matters little to me. True, I will make more profits, as will you, if you decide to go down the suggested route. But, truthfully, this planet, and even this solar system, will hardly make anything but a negligible dent in my bottom line, one way or the other. So I can afford you no more of my time. To be perfectly honest, I don’t give a damn whether this planet is blown out of the sky. I needed to rack up some good will points with Leon, come time to explain my hijinks to him in a mood where he might be more amenable to them. But there are plenty of other ways I can and am already doing that.”