Chapter 9
I stood in my formal uniform. It was still silly, in my opinion, but it was vastly better than the horror Jillian had initially tried to pass off as something we'd actually wear. My hair had stuff in it. I don't know what. Someone who was working with Jillian put it in there. It was smoothed over on one part, sticking up on another, and the back kind of flared in all directions. Both Jillian and the hair-gooper assured me it was "just the thing" to give me "the look". Ralph rolled his eyes, but he really couldn't say much. His hair was gooped, too.
Lynette was in a new uniform. She looked better than either of us. Her hair was also done, but I suppose on a girl, it's different. I didn't feel the least bit like laughing. Marlon was a different story. They made him cut most of his hair right off and dyed some of the rest different colors.
"He's the techie of the group. It's norm." Jillian poohed away his complaints. "Pretend for one day to be fashionable."
The night of sleep did wonders for both Jillian and Marlon. It had given them both back their most annoying traits. Jillian was extra peppy, and Marlon was extra grouchy. The short, colored hair was just the tipping point. He'd already complained about the uniform. It was one rank lower than Lynette.
"But I cracked that fart thing," he insisted.
"Fah'ti," corrected Christophe, looking over Marlon's new look. "And it cracked itself."
"You couldn't have put two and two together if..."
"If Mr. Cosworth hadn't translated it for me." He gave Marlon a look that dared him to push the issue. Marlon's face turned red, but he said nothing else. "Now. The hair isn't my cup of tea, but it is what will be expected from one in your line. You will get used to it. The uniform shows rank. If you want a rank as high as your sister's, I suggest you earn it. Turn." Marlon looked as if he was going to defy Christophe for just a second. In the end, he turned. "Good. Next."
Marlon began a stream of cursing under his breath. Yes, he was feeling back to himself. Lucky us.
Christophe made his approvals. He himself was dressed in, well, perfection. He looked like a holozine pic. Not a hair was out of place, not a wrinkle was in any piece of his suit. He looked like a bot. But he wasn't. He was the only person I ever met who could be both that perfect and real.
"Miss Donnely, an excellent choice on the make up."
"Thank you," Lynette said quietly.
"Change the shoes."
"But it's my uniform," she began.
Christophe held his hand out and Jillian rushed to the case of clothing she had been working out of all morning. She pulled a different pair of shoes out and handed them to Christophe. They were very different. Silvery, with spiky heals. Lynette almost laughed, but she saw Christophe was serious. "You are the cultural liaison. You shall wear some piece of clothing that reflects this. He nodded his satisfaction after she changed.
He assessed everyone, changing this, tweaking that. Jillian sighed halfway through. "Christophe, this is my job..."
"No, Jillian. It's my job." He tugged on the sash around Ralph's waist and gave him a look that said Ralph really should have snacked less and jogged more over the last few weeks. "And if the ax falls, there will be one head on the chopping block."
Jillian looked offended. She thought Christophe was second guessing her, taking over, stepping on her toes. But I got it, I understood. Christophe wasn't stepping on anyone. He was stepping in and protecting them. He gave up on the sash. It was going to wrinkle from Ralph's belly and there was nothing he could do about it. He sighed and came to stand in front of me.
"Jake. You look...common."
"Uh, thanks?"
He almost smiled. Almost. I could feel his tension. He wasn't joking or underselling the importance. The others, they seemed to think it was just Christophe being Christophe. I knew better. I could feel it, that almost inspeaking connection that was tentatively there between us. He was terrified, for the program, for the future of StarTech, for me. I could feel it.
"Yes. It's a compliment. We need you to look common." He wiggled the knot of tassels on my shoulder until he was satisfied with the placement. "You know what to say." It wasn't a question, but the question was there.
His fear was making me afraid. But he wasn't showing it, and I took my cue and tried my best to feel confident. "Yes."
He didn't believe me. I didn't believe me. Hell, I was just a kid. And in that moment, I really felt like one. He gave me a kind look, and then walked to the front of the room to address the group as a whole.
"Each and every one of you has a job to do today. And what is that job?"
"To answer questions," came the answer from Jillian.
"No. To make Jake and Ralph seem as normal as possible. To make the world believe that they are now, have always been, and will always be human." Marlon sighed, and Christophe seized the opportunity to hammer home his earlier points. "Anyone who does not give their all in aiding this mission will be summarily stripped of their title, rank, and position. Is that clear?" He was only asking Marlon for his compliance. Marlon grunted and Christophe knew it was the best he'd get.
"You will not mention other civilizations. You will not mention other races. Should a question about 'aliens' be asked, you will defer to me, each and every time. And you will not cringe when that term is used!" He barked the last line at me. "Aliens, aliens, aliens. That is a word you will hear over and over and you better get used to it. If your anger flares, you are one of them. If you cringe, you are taking their side. You are not one of us." He gave me that look. I felt the seriousness. I didn't even argue. "It's a word, Jake," he said more softly. "It is a word that carries more weight with humanity than you can imagine. It makes you angry? Well it makes them terrified. You will treat it as a word, nothing more, nothing less. You, who they know have met other life, will stand there and be bland. Don't feed their fear. Don't stoke their anger. Don't give them fanciful dreams or worst nightmares. It is just a word, Jake. Don't let it undo us all."
I gave him a nod. He looked at me silently for a second that stretched for a long, long time. He didn't nod back, just stared. One of those moments.
He started speaking to the group once again. "In just a few moments, we will file out and down the hall. We are StarTech. We are elite. We do not so much as look at the staff of this hospital. We march to the elevator and take it down to the transport. We get in. We sit. We ignore any press. We keep going. We are unbreakable. We are StarTech. We are elite." As he spoke his voice got harder and harder and I could feel the resolve of the group strengthen. Whatever he was doing was working. We are StarTech. We are elite. "We enter their building. We parade past their press. We keep our heads high and our pride on our faces. We will stand before their council and answer their questions and we will know the whole time we do it that we are StarTech! That we are elite! That we are the future! We are the guardians of a knowledge that humanity is finally ready to embrace! We are StarTech!"
The others were charged. It was like lightning through the crowd. I was ready to pick up a gun and follow Christophe in to battle. One moment he was fixing our uniforms and changing our shoes and the next he had full command of everyone and everything. It was right at that moment that I fully understood how Christophe had worked his way to the top. There was no way to ignore him. Even Marlon looked pumped up by Christophe's words.
"We are StarTech!" Said Reginald, entering the room. He thumped Christophe on the back. "Epic speech. Remind me to have you record a holo to play at our next investors meeting." He was grinning. He was excited. He was happy for this day and looking forward to it. He wasn't scared like Christophe. Interesting. I wondered if he didn't understand the potential of the day, or if he just convinced himself it would work and didn't give any thought to the "what ifs".
He walked over to me. "My don't you look...boring." He was grinning, though. "Are you sure we want him looking so plain?"
"Yes," said Christophe and Jillian together.
Reginald sighed. "I suppose
we can put up with it for this one meeting. But after, we'll get you fixed up in grand style, eh?" He winked and grinned at me. I thought I'd probably just prefer to be plain.
"So we're going to meet up in New York."
"Not Washington?"
Reginald shook his head at Christophe. "No. Change of plans. IOC got grumbling about fairness so it was taken out of the capitol. Still, doesn't change the plans from our end."
Christophe's jaw twitched. "Washington is Cosworth central."
"And that's probably why they really changed their minds." He gave a shrug. "What's done is done. We're not really in a position to barter."
"Yes, we are. They are dying to hear..."
"Let it go, Chris," Reginald said quietly. The two exchanged a look, then Christophe agreed.
Reginald's holo buzzed and he glanced at it. "Time to board. Now, everyone have a travel buddy?" He grinned at the crowd. Everyone but me got the joke and laughed. I shook my head and followed the group.
Laughter died as soon as we hit the hallway. Hospital staff lined the corridors. Some smiled, some ogled, some snickered, and one glared. Hard. I felt my stomach sink. If we got this much attention just in the hospital, what was it going to be like...out?
We did as Christophe instructed and filed silently into the elevator. As soon as the doors closed, Christophe swore. "I thought I told you to keep this quiet?"
Reginald sighed and shook his head. "And I keep telling you the more the better."
"After!" Christophe almost lost his perfect composure. "After, Reggie. After they see he's..."
"What? Utterly bland? Plain? Not even worth mentioning in the papers?"
"Yes."
"No. He's got to have some mystery. Don't you get it? If he's completely boring, no one will care."
"And that's just what we want."
"No. We want speculation. We want publicity. We want press."
"After!"
It was two sides to one coin, as Ralph would say. I could see the benefits in both. Later, that is. At the moment, I felt like a ball being tossed back and forth. "I'm standing right here, you know."
Lynette gave me a sympathetic look. Ralph rolled his eyes. Christophe and Reginald ignored me.
"You set up this change, didn't you?"
Reginald sighed. "You planned things too neatly, Chris." He glanced around suddenly. "Let's discuss this later."
Christophe was fuming. Silently, almost imperceptibly. But he was fuming. "Fine." He looked to the rest of us. "The plan stays. You march. You keep your mouths shut. You look ahead. You will be elite."
Reginald knew when not to argue. Isn't Reginald the head of the corporation? And yet, I'd put all the money I have on the fact that in that moment, Reginald was truly scared he'd gone too far. The elevator opened directly in front of our transport, a long shuttle that looked similar to the old trains I found fascinating when my HuTA taught me mechanical history. We boarded and strapped in and spent the next hour under "full throttle", as Christophe ordered. The pressure of speed on our chests didn't let up until we tipped forward and landed. And then we stopped all at once and everything was silent for a minute.
Christophe waited for the automatic straps to release us, then stood. He was much more calm. "Now, take a moment to get yourselves together. Once we walk out that door, all hell is going to break loose." He shot Reginald a look. Reginald gave a little nod without the least bit of guilt in his expression. We straightened our uniforms and patted our gooey hair, as if any of it could have come out of place through the junk. When we were all set, Reginald and Christophe got in line behind us. I wondered at that, but was too nervous to ask any questions.
And then the door opened.
And then I was actually in a city, a human city, on the streets and part of it like everyone else. The sun was shining down and I could feel the air and the weight and the road as I stepped out. For a second, I could feel the planet. The first step. The first breath of real air, not the canned air from the ventilation of some air processing machinery. The warmth of the sun unfiltered by the tinted glass of a window. The smell, that was the most shocking. One deep breath and I was assaulted by the odors of a city I would learn to identify, but never "appreciate", "like", or "miss," as Ralph went on about later. For just a moment, a split second, my senses took in the planet I am supposed to be from.
And then, just like that, Christophe was right. All hell broke loose.
Lights. Flashes. Shouting. The noise...oh the noise! People pushing, people calling someone. Cosworth, Me? Ralph, right next to me suddenly, out of order, his hand on my back guiding me forward. Guards of some sort, wearing StarTech uniforms, stood arm to arm creating a pathway for us that opened as we walked. Shouting, always with the shouting.
"Head up, keep walking," came Ralph's voice. He could see me starting to panic with the overwhelming situation.
"Smile," said Reginald right in my ear. I turned my head and he was on the other side of me, smiling and waving to all the people.
All. The. People. It felt like a sea of them. I had never seen so many humans at once, and it suddenly felt like they all came out to see me, each and every one. See and yell and push and try to get my attention. Ralph's hand on my back kept me walking. I could feel Christophe staring at me from behind. That anchored me, too. We pushed forward. I put my eyes on the back of Marlon's head in front of me. Concentrate on that, I told myself. I bit my lip to keep from laughing. It really was a ridiculous hair cut they gave him. I wondered what Lynette was thinking. I couldn't see her. She would be in front of Marlon, with Jillian right by her side. In front of them would be the doctor. It was determined he'd lead because he really was a true scientist and as such was oblivious to the crowd and the hubbub. I could picture him in my head just walking like a bot. We had somewhere to be and he'd lead us there.
We didn't walk for long, even though it felt it. The gravity on Earth was really difficult to get used to. I noticed that by the time we went "three city blocks," according to Ralph, most of our group was out of breath. Marlon, Lynette, and the doc had spent years on Utopia. Their bodies were unfamiliar with the gravity as well.
"Jeez, Reggie," said Ralph, leaning on the wall of the enormous building we entered. "Couldn't spring for a cab?"
Reginald grinned. "Now, Ralph. What good would that do, hm? We had to make an entrance. We had to announce that we arrived. And by the looks of that crowd out there, arrive we most certainly did!"
Christophe took a small cloth from his suit and handed it to me. "Dab your forehead, Jake."
I wiped the sweat off and Jillian sighed. "Dab, Jake! Dab." She snatched the cloth and dabbed at my head. I felt like the time Mother spit on her thumb to clean the mud off my cheek while lecturing me because I took my helmet off once again on v-2445.
She fussed for a second until I had enough and pulled away. "That was..." I had no words to finish the thought. I simply couldn't think of anything I'd ever experienced that I could relate it to.
"Crazy," finished Lynette. She looked thrilled, though. Excited. She was grinning and her eyes were sparkling. "All those people! Thanks, Christophe." When he quirked an eyebrow, she continued. "The shoes? I would have died if all those people saw me in those clunkers!"
Marlon snorted. "Jesus, Lynnie. Is that all you can think about?"
She waved him off. "Maybe I'll make the cover of Pop Cult."
The others started chatting quietly. I looked around the room we were in. Though I could still hear the sounds of the crowd outside, the large entryway we were in was itself silent. Not empty, though. There were guards in StarTech uniforms posted everywhere, standing motionless, watching, keeping us safe. "Why are there so many guards?"
Reginald looked to Christophe. Christophe gave him a little shake of his head. Small, imperceptible if you weren't looking close, but definitely there. We weren't safe. And for some reason, they didn't want me to know. It suddenly made me furious. Furious at them for not telling, and furious at m
yself for asking in the first place. Of course we weren't safe. Hadn't Ralph tried to get it through to me just how weird I am? An oddity. "An abomination", as one of the actors on the soaps Lynette loved like to say about anyone that was different. Of course we aren't safe.
But have I ever been? Didn't they know I could handle it?
No. Because I was still just a kid. I sighed and turned away. "Where are we?"
"We're in a federal justice building. It was the only place the arbiter and representatives from the IOC could agree on. Ah. Look sharp." Reginald hissed the last order and strode forward to meet with a very official looking person who just walked into the lobby. He was flanked by guards, though not StarTech.
They spoke for a moment before the man gave a little nod, then turned and left again. Reginald came over. "They want to address individuals first away from the rest of the group."
Christophe looked furious, but his words were calm and confident. "In which order?"
"The order they decide." Reginald rubbed at his chin. "They'll call one by one. We're to sit and wait."
"Fine." Yes, Christophe was furious. He still looked perfect, but I could feel the anger radiate. He gave us all the cue to take a seat.
"Why is he so mad?" I whispered to Ralph.
"Probably had it all worked out beforehand and they're changing the rules last minute."
"Yes, Mr. Buttrick. That is exactly what happened." He had overheard us. Neither of us cared, really. "They are thinking to strong arm us. To put on the pressure."
"Let 'em try," said Ralph confidently.
"Well you would say that, now wouldn't you? How many official debriefings did you have in front of the Army? Then NASA? Even StarTech itself." Ralph gave a little grunt. "It is not you they intend to break."
"Jake can handle himself," Ralph said, with a meanness in his voice I didn't understand. We were all on the same team. Right?
"We shall certainly see about that, now won't we?"
"Of course he can handle himself!" said Reginald. He stood and came to sit next to me. "Now Jake, just be yourself. Remember everything we talked about. Remember the goal. Keep that all in mind and you'll do..."
"Lynette Donnely!"
Everyone jumped at the unexpected voice. The man was back with his guards, waiting. Jillian nudged Lynette and she stood. Everyone looked confused. No one really expected Lynette would have to testify about anything. She wasn't a scientist. She couldn't offer any hard evidence. She was mostly there in case my education of society came in to question. As such, she wasn't very prepared.
"Why me?"
"Lynette Donnely!" the man barked again.
All of the color drained from Lynette's face and she shook. She visibly started to shake. Lynette, the girl who was always tough and in charge. I stood up quickly and grabbed her hand. "You can do it." I gave it a little squeeze and then felt my face burn. I hadn't meant to do anything like that. She just looked so scared.
She looked down at our hands for a second, took a deep breath, then marched away with the man. The door shut with a loud echo and everyone sat stunned. It was a few seconds before I felt a tug on my shirt and remembered I was standing. I sat quickly and stared at the floor. Ralph gave a small chuckle beside me and I shot him a glare, which made him chuckle louder and Marlon squint his eyes and cross his arms over his chest.
"Watch it with my sister, space monkey."
"Mr. Donnely," Christophe said in a warning tone. Marlon shut up but kept staring me down.
I turned my head and stared at the door.
"What do you think they want, Chris?" asked Jillian.
"The weakest one."
"She's not weak," I said in defense.
"And I'm guessing that about now, they're finding that out for themselves," he said firmly. "They are obviously following their own agenda. I would suggest that you prepare to be next, Marlon."
"Me? I'm not weak!"
"You're the weak link in this chain." Christophe raised an eyebrow and waited for Marlon to argue. Marlon was smart enough to understand that he had no legitimate argument. Christophe looked a bit more smug. "Then I believe they will cut right to the chase with Jake."
Reginald stood and shook his head. "Oh, no. This was not the deal at all."
"No. Neither was New York," Christophe said. Yes, I was sure he looked smug then. I felt smug on his behalf.
Reginald rolled his eyes, getting the message. "Yes, fine. I screwed up your little plan. But this, this is standard protocol. There are rules to follow."
"Are there really? And how many space travelers who have been to another galaxy have gone before and IOC arbiter? Hm?"
Reginald gave a scoff of annoyance. "I jump through every hoop of theirs. Every single mother..."
"It's no good getting worked up," Christophe cut him off. "Sit and calm down. That's exactly what they want."
Reginald paced a few more circuits in front of the row of seats. "Your composure is disgusting," he snapped at Christophe.
Christophe laughed and didn't take the least bit offense. "It's why I usually handle these things."
Reginald spun, ran a hand through his hair, then gave a little laugh himself. "Fine. I concede. I shouldn't have meddled. There. Mea culpa in front of everyone." He wagged a finger at Christophe as he sat. "And remember it, too, because it's the only one you'll ever get."
The air cleared. They made up. We couldn't relax, not on the hard chairs in the cold building with impending doom only one tiny door away, but at least we felt like a group again. Our leaders had made up and gotten back on the same page. It was oddly like when Mother and Dad argued. Or Morhal and Ta'al, though I doubted the threat of actual violence was ever in Reginald's or Christophe's minds. I hadn't realized until the calm had settled between them how much our mood depended on them.
"Okay, Chris. So how do we play it from here?"
"As we planned. Cool. Calm. Direct. Marlon, a little attitude from a techie is expected. Go ahead and be your egotistic self," Marlon gave a comical little bow, "but no anger. We do not want them to believe any in the group has fractured." He began to give everyone amended instructions. Jillian was to ramble about fashion. "It will annoy them and your interview should be brief." The doctor was to stress the most technical aspects. "They will tire of the science, if they even bring you in at all." Ralph was supposed to be very military. "Cut and dried, just like the old days."
Ralph snapped off a salute. "Yes, sir!"
Christophe nodded. "And you, Jake. You act overwhelmed."
"I am overwhelmed."
"Then they'll believe every word, won't they?"
The door opened then and Lynette stormed to the row of chairs looking furious. Before she could say anything, they called Marlon, just as Christophe anticipated.
"Later, losers," he said, trying to sound tough. I could see how terrified he really was. He even glanced back at Lynette, looking for support. She gave him a little nod, and as soon as the door closed behind him, she let out a streak of curses.
"I'm sorry I ever came back to this stupid rock!" She ended her rant with a loud sigh and sat back.
"Feel better?" I asked.
"What did they ask?"
Lynette looked to Christophe. "All their questions were about my contract. 'Servitude', they kept calling it. Except the fat ass with the stupid hair. He outright called me a slave."
Jillian gasped and moved to sit next to her. "Oh, dear..."
"What else?" asked Christophe.
Lynette shook her head. "That was it. Only questions about that. Nothing at all about Jake, though the witness booth is a quarantine unit."
"That's preposterous!" said Dr. Karl, outraged. "We've followed the sanitary guidelines to the letter every step..."
"No one is questioning your protocol," said Reginald quickly to soothe the doctor.
"It's intimidation, that's what it is," said Lynette bitterly. "They wanted me to look and feel like trash."
"Why wou
ld they do that?" It didn't make any sense to me.
"To make us look bad on every level," said Reginald, before he jumped up and started swearing to himself. "What more do they want from me?"
His yell echoed in the room and no one moved for a few seconds. It was a very good question.
"Lynette," said Christophe eventually. "That is all they asked about?"
"Yes."
"And how did you answer?"
She looked hurt by the question. "What's that supposed to mean? They asked and I answered. Honestly. And with devotion to StarTech, if that's what you're getting at. I know who feeds me. I wouldn't forget that."
"You make it sound dirty..." Reginald began with a groan.
"No. Just honest," Christophe said. "I'm sure you did a fine job."
Lynette snorted and crossed her arms. "Do I get a ticket to Utopia yet? Because the stink of this place is a memory I'm done with."
Jillian stood up and gave me a look that told me I better get off my butt and get over there and offer the poor girl a little comfort, young man. I did just that. Or tried to.
"Was it really that bad?"
There were tears in her eyes. "Yes," she said quietly. "It was that bad. At least I'll be in the damn paper." She looked directly at Reginald then. "There's got to be press from every paper, news center, and holozine on the planet in there."
I had no idea what to say. No one else did. All the adults looked away uncomfortably. Her story, the one that hurt her so bad she barely talked about it, would be open for everyone on the planet to read. To hear. To know. I was furious on her behalf. I took her hand, and held it even when she tried to pull it away. After a second she stopped trying and held mine back.
We waited silently for Marlon. Long minutes ticked by until nearly an hour had passed before he burst through the door, grinning and strutting and being as loud as he pleased. "I dare you to print half of what I said!" he bellowed over his shoulder. The man who ushered him almost actually steamed with anger.
"Jillian Michaels!" he snapped.
Jillian sighed. "Oh, Marlon. What did you do?" She bustled forward, trying not to make the man even angrier.
Marlon sat on the other side of Lynette. He glared at my hand until I let hers go, then gave her a nod. "I gave it back good."
"Oh, hell," said Reginald wearily.
"Mr. Donnely," Christophe began.
Marlon cut him off. "Oh, can it, Venderi. You saw how upset they made my sister. I'm supposed to take it?"
"What happened?" Reginald asked in a tone that said he really didn't want to know. He reached in his pocket and took out a small vial, then swallowed one of the pills he took out of it, and rubbed his eyes.
"I'll tell you what happened. They're trying to cut us off at the knees because they know they have nothing to work with, that's what. I was in there not two minutes before it hit me that every question I was being asked was personal. Nothing about my work, mind. Nothing about my job. Or my observation of space monkey over there. It ain't about him, Christophe."
"No, I suppose it's not."
"Asked about my folks, my 'servitude'. I shut that down fast, I tell you."
Lynette looked surprised. "You did?"
"Hell yes I did. Jeez, Lynnie. What I gripe about to you and what I'll say to those jack asses...two totally different things."
"I'm honored by your consideration," Christophe said blandly.
Marlon shot him a grin. "You should be. And I mean that. Because what I could have said..."
"But what did you say?" Lynette said, trying to keep him from getting himself in trouble.
"I kept shutting them down. Every time they asked about the terms of my contract, I told them to look at the file. They have it. They have all of them. They pressed. They started asking about Mom and Dad." Lynette grabbed his hand. "And I kept telling them to read their own paperwork, my time is far too valuable to waste on things they can look up for themselves."
"Good."
Christophe agreed with Reginald. "Well handled, indeed. Was there any mention of your recent projects?"
"No. Not the Qitani crap, anyway. There were a lot of questions about the latest HuTA updates, though."
Reginald frowned. "Why would they care..."
"To cut us down, any way they can." It was Ralph who answered Reginald's question. "They think we're brainwashing the kids."
"That's...that's..."
"A brilliant way to control the entire population," finished Ralph. "Which is what they've been saying since long before you were a twinkle in your daddy's eye. Hell, since before your daddy was a twinkle in Justin's eye. His real one, not the bot of yours."
Reginald sat back and ran his hand through his hair. "Why now?"
"Because we're so close," said Christophe.
"I told them in no uncertain terms that we've hid nothing about the HuTA project. I even bellyached good about all the extra work it takes on my end to make sure they know every single thing we do with them."
"Good!"
Marlon actually looked pleased with the praise. For someone who claimed not to care about anything, Christophe's opinion of him sure seemed to matter. He beamed and kept telling about all the ways he "stuck it to 'em". "I don't think they got one usable statement from me," he said when he was done.
Lynette laughed. "I guess you're good for something after all," she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek and tousling his hair. He smiled sheepishly and looked like a kid for a second.
Jillian returned. She hadn't been gone even five minutes. The man called Dr. Karl next. He looked much more calm, but shot a glare towards Marlon before the doctor joined him.
"Well that worked. Bored them stiff with barely a word."
"What did they ask?"
Jillian waved a hand. "Wanted to know about employee benefits and crap like that. So I started talking about uniform design and it was snoozeville in no time." She sighed and rubbed her aching neck. "I'd kill for a smoke about now." She rolled her head and then smiled at Christophe. "I don't suppose there's a private alcove anywhere in this whole city we can hid out in for five minutes, is there?"
"No."
She waved a hand. "I thought it was going to be a lot worse than it was. Not one question about Jake or Ralph."
"Guess I better get ready," said Ralph, straightening his sash. "If they got bored with fashion that fast, just wait till they hear the old doc get rolling. I bet he's back within two minutes."
Jillian gave a laugh. "Are we betting credits?"
"Sure thing."
"Then I'm in. Five says he makes them listen to him for ten minutes before he'll allow anyone enough time to dismiss him!"
Ralph laughed. "You're on! Reggie, you want in on this action?"
Reginald didn't get to answer. The doors opened and Dr. Karl was being all but dragged in, still giving his testimony.
"Dr. Dresche! Your testimony is over and we thank you once again for your service!" The man was clearly sick of his assignment for the day. The doctor stopped talking and snorted, highly offended.
"Please do not hesitate to convey my utter disappointment to that contingent of buffoons you call a council! I have never in my life met a body of alleged professionals who acted so..."
"Sit!" the man barked.
To his credit, Dr. Karl gave the man the most haughty look, as if it were he who was dismissing the other man, before he turned regally and took his seat with the utmost of authority.
"The arbiter would like to speak with Sergeant Ralph Buttrick." I almost felt bad for the man. He looked much smaller and older than he had when he first called Lynette into the room.
Ralph stood, gave a salute to Christophe and Reginald, gave a wink to me, then strode forward, marching like a soldier.
"They did not even want to hear my summation of the primary results of the implications of long term low gravity on the frontal..."
"It's okay, Doc," said Jillian, patting the old man's arm. "They didn't want to hear an
ything I had to say, either."
"Yes, dear," he said. He was a scientist, a true one. He did not mean to be condescending, he truly didn't. "But that's just petty clothing. This is important to humanity."
Jillian sighed and stood. "Forget I bothered." She walked to one of the tinted windows and stood, as if she could actually see out of it.
He didn't mean to be offensive. Just like Mother never had.
"They just can't understand it," I said to both of them. "They can't wrap their minds around either the sociological or scientific sides of what StarTech does. They don't mean to offend you, they're just dumb."
Reginald laughed. "From the mouths of babes."
"Yes," sniffed the doctor. "Well, they still could have pretended to care."
We all fell silent. The minutes ticked on, stretched out. There was a large clock above the small door and I kept looking. I watched as five minutes passed. Then ten. Then a half hour. Somewhere around an hour, Lynette put her hand on my knee. I hadn't realized I was tapping my foot until she did that.
"Sorry," I said quickly.
"Don't be nervous. Ralph will do fine."
I nodded. Sure. Sure he would. He was Ralph. He could handle anything. I'd never seen him unable to handle anything in my whole life. He was always in control, in that seemingly lazy, calm way of his. He was impossible to ruffle. But after an hour and a half, I almost couldn't stand it anymore. I couldn't stand waiting for him, and couldn't stand the thought that any moment he'd come out and that would leave me to go in. I wanted him to be done and to take forever, all at the same time.
I stood and began pacing. After a few restless passes, I took up a spot at the tinted window that Jillian had pretended to look out and did the same until I couldn't take it.
"What the hell are they asking him?"
"He's one of the big fish, Jake. They're asking him everything."
I sighed and sat back down. Lynette took my hand. I blatantly ignored Marlon's scowl and held her hand right back. I watched the clock again. With every minute that passed, I felt myself unravel a little more. My nerves frayed one by one. I went to chew on my nail, but Lynette held my hand firm. It hit the two hour mark. Christophe and Reginald were whispering. I think they were really starting to worry, too.
Finally the door opened and Ralph marched in, his face red and his jaw clenched tight. He gave me a little nod for encouragement and sat, looking straight ahead. He was okay. Angry, but okay.
"Jacob Cosworth."
I felt a flood of panic. Lynette squeezed my hand and kissed my cheek. "Go," she whispered. I stood before the courage of her kiss faded. I didn't even glance back. If I had, I would have seen the door leading outside and would have let myself give in to the temptation to run. I followed the man with as much calm as I could and hardly jumped at all when the door slammed behind me.
"You will now listen to the rules and regulations of the hearing." He was waiting for some type of response, so I gave a nod. "You will stand in the witness box. You will answer any question put to you to the best of your ability. You will answer swiftly and honestly. As this is an official inquiry, any knowingly false answer will result in legal charges of perjury. You will only speak after you have permission and you will stop speaking as soon as it is requested of you. Do you understand the rules and regulations as I have explained them?"
He spoke as if he was tired of saying these words over and over. "Yes."
He nodded and opened another door. "The court presents Jacob Cosworth, aged 16, for testimony before the honorable Arbiter Lancaster," he announced loudly.
The door had opened into a tiny little space in the corner of an enormous room. A quarantine booth, for sure. From my position behind the man and surrounded by guards, it was difficult to make anything out but lots of people. That's all I could see. A big, silent crowd. From somewhere came a voice.
"The Arbiter Lancaster accepts the court's presentation. Please swear in the confessor."
The man turned to me and told me to raise my right hand. "Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?"
"Uh, yes."
He stepped back and motioned for me to enter the witness box. I walked forward and the door shut behind me. I was an experiment. I knew it, but in that moment, I truly felt it. I was in a box, a sample, someone's exhibit. I tried to ignore the anger, and took a look around. Lynette had said it was press people in the audience and she wasn't kidding. There were hundreds. Every news source had to be represented. I looked straight in front of me. Up on a raised platform were a couple dozen people sitting in fancy chairs behind fancy podiums wearing fancy clothes, the most fancy being right in the middle. I knew it must be the IOC, and the man in the middle must be the arbiter. He did not look like a nice man. In fact, he did not look like he even knew any nice men. His stare was cold and mean, as if he wanted to slice me right through just by looking at me. I knew a moment of pure panic.
And then it hit me. He looked like Morhal. When she was angry, I mean. When you could look at her and know she was going to kill someone. And suddenly, I was comforted. Something familiar, even a bad thing.
"State your name."
It seemed silly. They had just said my name. "Uh, Jacob Earnest Cosworth."
"Age."
I easily could have answered the question simply. However, I decided that they didn't deserve a simple answer. I didn't want to stir up trouble, but I wasn't the son of two scientists for nothing. "Unknown," I said with a straight face.
There was a little noise from the crowd.
"Your age was just stated as sixteen," the arbiter said.
"Yes, but that's according to the ship calendar. As we are no longer on the ship, or even near it, it's safe to assume that the relativity of time in a location makes my age somewhat up for debate."
Absolute silence. I wondered for a second if that meant I passed or if it signaled failure. They weren't going to make it that simple for me, and Arbiter Lancaster gave me a droll look as he said, "The record will indicate the witness's age at sixteen. I do not suppose it will do much good to ask you the place of your birth?"
"StarTech deep space ship, Condor One."
The crowd got loud then. There was flashing, too, bright lights that made me squint. I was trying to look as important as possible, and the flashing really started to screw up my plan.
"Silence." The arbiter wasn't loud. He didn't shout the word. But everyone hushed at once as if he had. "Are you aware that your existence is illegal?"
I didn't really expect anyone to put things so bluntly. To be honest, I was a little relieved. I was raised by scientists, remember? I can deal with blunt. "Yes."
"And that StarTech intentionally broke the laws we have in place to protect humanity?"
"No, sir."
The crowd mumbled. The arbiter looked surprised. "No, what?"
"It was not a StarTech plan, sir. My parents acted of their own volition."
He made a little noise of annoyance. "Let's not pretend to be naive, Mr. Cosworth. StarTech has been skirting the law for years. They worked with your parents to hide your existence from the rest of the world. Why, when our governments finally..."
"No, they didn't," I said, interrupting him. There was a gasp from the crowd, though I'm not sure if it was because I interrupted or because I contradicted the mighty arbiter.
"You will explain yourself," he demanded.
"The files were there. The governments simply chose not to read them."
The arbiter looked angry then. His eye twitched. "More StarTech propaganda..."
"Propaganda nothing...sir," I added hastily. "It's right in the files. As soon as StarTech knew of my birth, they reported it. I can tell you, sir, that I have been a bigger headache to StarTech than I can possibly be to you."
There was a titter of laughter from the crowd. "Explain yourself," he said again.
"Look around, sir. Me showing up now has brought censure and scrutiny on StarTech, i
n spite of their compliance with all your laws."
"You haven't been on Earth for more than two days and already you think you know..."
"I do know, Arbiter Lancaster. From a purely logical standpoint, if StarTech was behind my birth, and they were trying to keep it a secret as you claim, then I would not be here now."
"That is flawed logic, young man. At some point, every secret comes out."
"Yes. And that is now. The secret isn't me, though. The secret is a lazy government that didn't bother to read my biography eighty years ago!"
The crowd all but roared then. Cameras clicked. Flashes flashed. The IOC members talked amongst themselves. Only the arbiter remained quiet. He waited for the crowd to calm. "So you believe you have it all worked out, do you?"
"No, not all, sir. Just that part."
"Tell me what you think of this StarTech you are defending. Did you know that they enslave children?"
He thought he had me. "I know of their indentured programs. Isn't it the parents of these children that sign them away?"
"Are you aware of the military roots of StarTech? Of their continued recruitment of soldiers? An army, Mr. Cosworth. Let's call it what it is. Are you aware of their vast military capabilities?"
"Good." He was trying to get me off guard and I had to keep up.
"Good? You believe we need an army that is above all law here on Earth?"
"I didn't say that. I said it's good that the people pushing to the edges of the universe can also protect themselves."
"And why is that a good thing? Do you not believe we should spread a peaceful human message?"
"Of course I do. But tell that to another tribe who doesn't feel as friendly."
He gave me a snaky smile. "So you admit that an invasion is a possibility."
Yes, he thought he had me. "It is always a possibility. However, if you have an army that can reach the outskirts of the very galaxy, then the Earth will never know the horrors of an interplanetary war, will they? We can stop them before it's even an issue." Ha! I wasn't half raised by the war loving Qitani for nothing. I felt the little victory hit home. The press went nuts. Some of the IOC members were nodding. Humans feared invasion. That's what the arbiter was trying to play on. And I made it backfire. I felt for a moment what Marlon must have felt.
"And how would you know these 'horrors' of which you speak?"
I knew too late my mistake. I was not supposed to speak of other tribes. I was not supposed to speak of any of that. Not here. Not yet. "I was speaking hypothetically."
"Have you been witness to an alien war?"
It felt as if he knew that word would push my button. I felt the anger rise. I tamped it down. He knew. He could read me, assess me. He was Christophe's double, his counterpart. "I have never witnessed a war among other races."
"But you have witnessed other races. You have seen aliens."
The crowd was so silent you could have heard a single heartbeat. Maybe they could. Maybe they could hear mine. "Other races exist," I said carefully.
"Answer the question."
"In your documents you have all the scientific and anthropological data collected..."
"Answer. The. Question." He said, slowly and carefully.
I was stuck. I looked at the crowd. All eyes were on me. People leaned forward, straining to hear. Cameras were rolling, microphones were stretched to the ends of their poles. I swallowed hard. Christophe was going to kill me. I turned to the arbiter. "Yes, Arbiter Lancaster. I have seen other races."
The roar from the crowd was not instant. They waited just long enough for me to notice a few very important things. Maybe it was Dad's training that I caught them at all, though I think he would have picked up on it all sooner. Maybe he could have saved me from stepping in it in the first place. Arbiter Lancaster's fist was tightly clenched. He wasn't mean...he was nervous. Okay, well maybe he's both. But he was more nervous than anything. And scared. He didn't breathe after I confirmed what they already really should have known if they bothered to read anything we gave them. I guess history really does repeat. He was nervous, scared, and on the edge of his seat. But the most important thing I noticed in the split second before the noise and flashing and wave of questions rolled in from the crowd was that he was also...alone. He was surrounded by IOC members who did not share either his fear or his hostility, and as the room was ordered silent and the questions began again, that became clearer and clearer.
"Silence!" yelled the little man who had brought us all in. He was now in the court, just to the left of the panel. I hadn't even seen him walk in. "I said silence! Silence, or this court will be cleared and the rest of the proceedings will be held in black out!"
Christophe explained later that "black out" during a court case or hearing meant that no press was allowed. They would have cleared the room completely and sealed the records from the public, with only the government representatives getting the transcripts. The only reason I am bothering to explain it at all is because to me, it sounds like parents and a group of kids, like the court will put the naughty brats on punishment. I don't know. It cracked me up when Christophe explained, in spite of him telling me over and over how serious it really was.
At the time, all I knew was that the threat worked. The crowd took in a deep breath of a gasp, and then shut up all together as one. People sat back down, though all leaning forward to be closer to whatever it was they thought I was going to say next.
Arbiter Lancaster waited another moment until he had absolute silence, then cleared his throat. "And how long have you employers been aware of such...aliens?"
I did not want to get mad. I was trying to keep my cool, really I was. But he "aliened" again. On purpose, I'm sure of it. And there was something in the way he said "your employer" that pushed another button. "I believe it wasn't until our arrival a few months ago, Mr. Lancaster."
Mother has a habit of annoying people by intentionally tweaking their name to something other than what they said. I was about fourteen before I stopped thinking it might be rude and became sure it was. Nothing outwardly disrespectful, just a small sign that they did something to tick her off. I never really understood it completely until I did it to the arbiter. And I never realized the tiny, silly, childish rush she must have gotten every time she saw the signs that it hit home. With Lancaster, it was the twitchy eye thing again.
"What do you mean 'you believe'? I am aware of your level of clearance in the company. Don't tell me one of your status is so out of the loop that they don't know the very basics of knowledge in the organization. Or is that, perhaps, how StarTech operates, hm? Is it only those at the very top that really know..."
"Oh for heaven's sake, Al," said an IOC member a few seats away. He was frowning, as were most of the others. "Give it a rest."
The arbiter looked ready to skin the man alive. "You are speaking out of turn, representative Kudlow. I have not opened the forum..."
The man waved him off. "Well I have. Forum opened."
Lancaster sputtered. "But...this is..."
"All in favor?" Kudlow raised his hands. Every other IOC member on the panel quickly did the same. "All opposed?"
"I am! And since I am the elected arbiter of these proceedings..."
Kudlow looked at the arbiter like he was a sad, little muk'alog who followed him in from the swamp. "It's okay, Al. Relax."
Lancaster did not want to let it go. "Now see here, Edward. There is an established protocol for..."
Kudlow laughed. "Protocol? For what, exactly? For all the thousands of space children we stick in a cage for the world to gawk at so we can grill them about things they can't possibly know? There's no protocol for what we're doing here today."
I liked Edward Kudlow. I didn't care if in his real life he's a murdering bastard. In that room, he spoke up for me. For us. And that makes him my first friend on Earth.
Lancaster sat and brooded. I could tell he wanted to keep pressing, keep grilling me on his own line of questions. But he w
as a smart man, if nothing else. The whole room was completely behind Kudlow. All for their own reasons, I'm sure, but behind him and against Lancaster nonetheless. "This is highly unusual and will be addressed at our next session."
"Oh, I'm sure," said Kudlow with a smirk. "I have never known you to let anything rest." Before Lancaster could respond, Edward Kudlow turned to me and introduced himself. "I am here representing the Canadian IOC contingent, and I am very pleased to meet you. I apologize if members of this organization have forgotten the goal of these proceedings."
He was waiting for me to say something. Suddenly I was more uncomfortable, not less. Anger I could deal with. Lancaster's hostility got my own going. As Ashnahta always said, "If you're angry, you'll be at your best. Alert. Aware. Sharp. Always be angry around an enemy. Always."
Lancaster was clearly an enemy. But, as I've already said, Kudlow was not. And his kind voice and real smile my way made me feel weaker. Vulnerable. Watched. "I...it's okay. I guess I wouldn't really know what to say to me, either. You know, if I was in your shoes." It was awful. Horrible. I cringe when I think about it.
The press loved it. Reginald slapped my back and shook my hand later for it. "You nailed the innocent kid schtick, Jake. Nailed it!" I still felt like an ass, though.
Kudlow laughed. "Yes. What exactly do we say to one so young who has seen and done so much?" I felt my face turn redder as he spoke. But he's a smart one, that Kudlow. He could see how uncomfortable I was. "This is an abomination. He's the very dream we all share, ladies and gentlemen," he said, addressing the rest of the panel aside from Lancaster. "The very dream. Isn't he what we've all been working towards? He is the result of our laws and careful planning..."
Lancaster snorted. "As if they followed any of those!"
"Pft, a breach by one team working on their own. The boy's right. You didn't even read the reports, did you?"
"Of course I did!" Lancaster all but roared. "I'm just not foolish enough to believe what they're shoveling..."
"Ah, and that's the point, isn't it? That's what this has all been about." He was giving Lancaster a warning. I could see it in his eyes. It's that look that says 'I've got dirt on you and I'll spill if you don't play nice'. Ashnahta's secondary constantly gave her that look to keep her in line. I looked at Lancaster. He wasn't going to back down.
"Political suicide is the term we use," said Christophe with a great amount of happiness about it all later.
He wasn't going to back down. You could see it in everything about him. "One of us has to be the voice of reason in this insanity..."
"Al," said Kudlow in a warning tone. "We can continue this conversation later."
"Ah, behind closed doors, is that it, Ed? Is that what you are afraid of? What all of you are afraid of?" He stood then, sending his fancy chair skidding backward. The noise echoed in the now silent room. Everyone turned their attention from the weird space boy in the sani-box to the old man flipping out on the IOC panel. "They've got you, too, don't they?"
At that point, Arbiter Lancaster really lost his cool. That's what Dad would have said, and I wished he could have seen it. It really is something to watch someone make themselves go down in flames. He slammed his hand on the podium, making it rock and almost tip. "Damn it! I joined this panel twenty two years ago to make sure that this didn't happen. And that wasn't enough, was it? They got to you. They got to all of you!"
"Here we go..." said Kudlow, leaning back and folding his hands together to ride out the storm. And storm it did! A hurricane to rival those of Laak'sa, all from one man. One angry, confused, bitter old man.
"Not confused, Jake," explained Ralph later. "Maybe the last of a dying breed. Maybe that's why he was so loud about it. Like a star going nova. One great burst before they fizzle out." I didn't understand. "Look, kid. As I believe we've all been busting our humps to explain, there are many on this rock that are terrified of, well, everything. Space. Space men. Intergalactic war. Invasion. Asteroid collision..."
"That's crazy. None of that is even related!"
"Not to us. To you and me, who know the score. People are afraid of what they don't know."
"The Qitani didn't fear us."
"Of course they didn't! They had a whole year to study us before we even knew they were there. They watched our every move on v-2445. They knew who we were, what we wanted, where we came from. And most of all, they knew without a doubt that we weren't a threat. Think about it, Jake. If we landed there first, without any announcement, just landed as if we owned the place, you think that war hungry people would have welcomed us in? No way. And why?" I didn't know why. I couldn't imagine the Qitani in any other way than friendship. "Because we'd be a threat. Anything unknown is potentially harmful, right? And when the weight of the world is on your shoulders, when it's you making the snap decisions that have the potential to ruin an entire species, I'm telling you, you'd be a lot more like Lancaster than you want to believe."
"But why hate StarTech? We're the ones out there learning so we will know the threats."
"I like the 'we', Jake. When did that happen?" He gave me a smile and a wink. I ignored it. "We, as you say, are the ones that can open the doors to the madness. We're the gatekeepers of the threats. And there are many that see our efforts as a taunt, a tease. Like we're waving a red flag in front of a bull." I had no idea what that meant. "Fine. We're, uh...Oh, got it! We're wiggling a caa' fly in front of a gluk. Right there, right in front, always just a bit out of reach."
"Then the gluk would just pounce and attack."
"Exactly. They are afraid we're teasing the monsters and they'll attack because of it."
"That's insane!"
"Only because we know it's insane. They don't. Like I said, Lancaster is trying to protect the masses from everything he doesn't know. It's a very big universe, Jake. Big and scary, especially when there's been millions of years of humans having the time at night to look into the blackness and imagine the worst."
That was later. And I suppose Ralph has a point. I even think Lancaster had a point, though really was wrong. At least he was trying to keep people safe. He thought he was doing good for humanity. That's what fueled him, I suppose. By the time they had the court guards dragging him off, he'd raged against the evils of StarTech so loudly that his voice was only a harsh squeak. The room was silent after the doors slammed shut, and I could see and feel that everyone was embarrassed for him.
Kudlow waited until the room began to fill with murmurs again before he spoke. "Next order of business is to open up that damn sani-box and let you out of there, Mr. Cosworth." He ignored the shocks from some members of the crowd, and even the uncertain comments from some on the panel. "We have the full reports, by both their scientists and our independent team. There is absolutely no threat of any kind of contamination. Besides, it's got to be hot as hell in that thing."
It was, too. I was sweating as if I was in the middle of a conditioning routine. The door behind me opened and the little man was there ushering me out. He brought me into the large room again, only this time away from the sani-box and to a table and chairs directly in front of the panel. I took a seat and could feel the eyes of a thousand people burning in the back of my head.
"Better, Mr. Cosworth?"
Better by what standard? But at least I could breathe. "Yes, thank you," I said. For some reason, the press loved that. I could hear clicking and see the flashing and feel the mumblings of approval.
"Very good! Now, I would ask the press to refrain from any more flash photography. I'm getting one helluva head ache. Besides, the holocorders are bright enough for any picture. And if one more flash zaps my eyes, I will black out the rest of this meeting, I assure you. It's been a long and ridiculous day and has sadly spun way off the intended course. I'm one infraction away from following Lancaster's lead and snapping, and I can assure every member of the audience that my ire will be turned on them if they try my patience."
Edward Kudlow grew even greater in my estima
tion. As far as I could tell, he was at the same level as the other IOC panel members. His great robed outfit was the same, had the same stripes and colors. And yet, everyone just accepted him stepping in to Lancaster's abandoned position.
"We have, unfortunately, started things off on rocky footing, haven't we? I admit that we've all got reservations about StarTech. We must. That is our job, the reason the IOC exists. However, I'd like to formally apologize for the questions of the arbiter, both to you and those who testified before. This is not supposed to be an inquiry into the entire organization. It's not the time nor place, and I believe I speak for the entire panel when I apologize for allowing one member's personal agenda to dig up dirt in front of an international press sidetrack us. I should have put a stop to that line of questioning when he made the poor Donnely girl cry." He waited. I didn't know for what at first, but after a moment the rest of the panel chimed in their apologies. When he was satisfied that a true apology had been given, he continued.
"Now. Let us start off on the right foot. On behalf of the IOC, I'd like to welcome you to Earth, Mr. Cosworth."
"Uh, thanks. And call me Jake." The press murmured again. Would they do that after everything I said?
Yes, as it turned out, they would. Through the entire fricken afternoon. By the end it stopped annoying me and almost became a game.
"Jake it is, then!" And then he sat back and just smiled at me. "Our first human born in space." There was a wonder in his voice that embarrassed me deeply.
"It wasn't anything I could help."
He laughed, as did the panel, as did the press. "No, sir. I expect you couldn't. I've read the reports. Scientifically, you're very close to an Earth born human. Remarkably so."
Something in that annoyed the hell out of me. "Why wouldn't I be?"
He put his hands wide and shrugged. "How should we know? It's never been done, Jake. Don't take it personally. You've been raised by scientists, some of the best. Surely you can understand the fears and trepidations we feel about deep space procreation. And our concerns are not only for ourselves, but for the babies born in low gravity, fed by nutrient mash created from waste. You yourself took quite a deal of conditioning to be able to withstand our gravity."
He meant what he said. He really had read through the data we provided. I made a point to stress that to Christophe later, even after Christophe kept waving it off. "They've been caught," he said. "Of course they're going to fine-tooth-comb it. Now. When it's too late. When the whole world knows the same things. It's pointless now."
Still, I thought it was something, especially since it was clear he didn't just glance through the files, like I did with my HuTA, just to say it was done. Kudlow actually read it. Read it, absorbed it, and took the time to understand. Christophe might not think it was anything special, but I did.
"Was it a difficult transition?" Kudlow was asking.
I could have lied, but had been sworn to tell the truth, so... "Yes, but for many reasons, not just the physical load."
"Please explain."
I opened my mouth, then closed it again. After a few seconds, I shook my head. "I don't know where to start, Arbiter Kudlow."
He laughed. "Mr. Kudlow, if you please. I'm no arbiter." I turned redder, but I don't think anyone noticed. "And I expect it's quite a question. So let us begin at the beginning. You were born on the deep space ship, Condor One, were you not?"
"Yes."
"And raised there?"
And so began the most talkative couple hours of my life. After awhile, other IOC members jumped in and asked me questions. I only remember the ones that keep playing in a loop on the news Lynette makes me watch over and over on my holo.
"What was it like being raised by scientists?"
"What did you eat?"
"What were your duties on board?"
"How old were you before you were allowed an out-trek?"
On and on and on. I answered as fully and honestly as I could, always remembering that Christophe wanted, and Reginald needed, a boring, plain kid. I tried to make it as boring as possible. I stressed the annoying chores, cleaning equipment, eating mash, the mind numbing hours and hours of staring in microscopes and the boring HuTA lessons. I tried to put the most bland spin on it as possible, because if you just look at the facts, it really seemed to be a very dull childhood. I was cramped up, cooped up as they say, in a little tin can the size of a relatively small house, with the same people day in and day out, eating the same thing day in and day out...
The press afterwards did not make it sound boring. They sensationalized it. They glamorized it. I was annoyed, but Reginald said, "What did you expect, Jake? You lived the dream of millions. You grew up in space. The drudgery, the monotony, the daily grind, it was still done in space."
"But it was boring as hell."
He laughed. "To you. Not to them. Never to them. You've lived an extraordinary life, Jake. There is nothing you can say to make it seem any different."
The afternoon filled with questions stretched out. At some point, I got thirsty, and my voice got scratchy. Someone gave me some water and as soon as I sipped, the questions started back up.
"Were you allowed to operate a Tekman?"
"Did you find usable ores on the asteroids?"
"How many solar systems have you been to?"
"What did it feel like to come back home?"
That was the last question. I didn't even have time to answer it. Suddenly Kudlow was fired up to end the proceedings. "Ladies and gentlemen," he said before I had time to open my mouth. "I believe we have gotten what we came for today. I make a motion to the panel that Mr. Cosworth here is in no way a physical threat to the human population on Earth. Not only are his biostats well within the acceptable range, he seems like a fine, upstanding young man. I do not see any signs of contamination of either body or soul. All in favor of allowing Jacob Cosworth to remain on Earth..."
Before he could even ask for the vote, every hand on the panel shot up. He smiled and reached across to Lancaster's podium. He took a little hammer off it and slammed it down. "Motion passed! Welcome to Earth, Mr. Cosworth. Enjoy your stay. Meeting adjourned!" He slammed the hammer again, and the little man was already tugging at my elbow. It ended so quickly that the stunned press didn't realize I was leaving until a quick second before the door closed behind me. I just heard them snapping in to action before I was finally in silence.
I took a deep breath and felt my whole body sag. It was far more tiring than I thought. "How long was I in there?" I asked the man. He just shrugged. I rolled my eyes and walked for the door that would lead me out of this place, when he tightened his grip on my arm.
"You have not been dismissed by the arbiter," he said.
"Jack, let him go," said Kudlow, hurrying towards us down a narrow hallway. "He's dismissed."
The little man named Jack shrugged, released me, then walked the other way down the hall. His job was done. I bet he went for a drink, too.
"You did fine, Jake. Just fine." Kudlow had my hand and was shaking it before I knew what was happening. "I'm really very sorry for how things began."
"It's okay."
"No," he shook his head firmly. "It's not. And I am going to walk you out to your guardians and apologize personally to Miss Donnely." He had his hand on my shoulder, guiding me through the door.
Everyone stood when they saw me come in. Ralph had been pacing at the window and he rushed over. I'd never seen him look so worried. He reminded me of Dad right then.
"You okay, kiddo?" he said, ignoring Kudlow completely.
"Yeah. I didn't know it would go so long."
"Neither did I," said Christophe, stepping forward. "Mr. Kudlow, on behalf of StarTech I would like to personally state how disappointed we are in the IOC's tactics. Had I known this proceeding would become an attack on our company with young people placed..."
But Kudlow had no intention of letting Christophe rip into him. I got the feeling he'd been on that end
of the stick before. He held a hand up. "Please, Mr. Venderi. You have the apology of the IOC. We, too, were blindsided by Lancaster's personal attacks."
"It's true," I said quickly. "The arbiter went nuts and was dragged out."
Christophe's eyebrow quirked, just a little, but he kept his angry face on. "As well he should have. To debase the character of mere children in a public forum..."
Reginald stepped forward and stuck his hand out for Kudlow. "Edward, we accept your apology." Christophe knew when he was reaching his edge, and gave a small nod before turning and taking a seat next to Lynette. His message was crystal clear.
"Reggie, I didn't know you were here. You should have come by for a drink!"
Reginald shook Kudlow's hand. "Just rolled in yesterday. One hell of a rough jump, at that. And then there's the red tape...you understand."
Kudlow grinned. "Now Reggie, you know the red tape exists for a reason..." He waved a hand quickly. "We're not getting in to that. There's been enough unwarranted attacking done for the day." Christophe cleared his throat. Kudlow took the hint. He walked over and held his hand out to Lynette. "Miss Donnely, I sincerely apologize on behalf of the panel. We never intended Lancaster to use you as a poster child in his own crusade."
"You will make it clear to the press that Lancaster has gone crazed," said Christophe coolly.
"He did a fine job of that himself."
"I expect the IOC to make it clear," Christophe repeated. "And it would behoove you to issue a counter statement about Miss Donnely's true character and worth."
"Ah," said Kudlow simply. He looked at Lynette. "Yes, I believe that is most certainly called for."
Lynette turned away. I could see the tears in her eyes and I hated Lancaster all the more.
"It will be done, Mr. Venderi. You have my word."
Christophe gave a curt nod, then stood. "I believe we have spent enough time under your microscope for one day." Everyone else stood. They had no choice. When Christophe uses that voice, you do what he says. You just do.
"I have arranged a private exit, as you requested."
Christophe gave Kudlow a cold stare. "So you pick and choose which agreements you honor, do you?"
Kudlow looked like he deserved it. Clearly the IOC had no intentions from the start to follow all the plans carefully coordinated by Christophe. "If you'll follow the officers down that hall to the left, you'll board our private transport. I believe you said you wanted to go to the Cosworth estates in Washington?"
Christophe glared at the man. He didn't need to say anything else.
"Go on ahead and board," said Reginald. "I need to speak with Ed a minute. Jake? Stay back, would you?"
Lynette shot me a look and I really wanted to go with her. But Ralph gave me a little nod to follow the boss's orders, so I did. Christophe marched the tired group down the hall. I did not miss the fact that his hand was on Lynette's shoulder, a message to Kudlow clearer than any other. He was letting the IOC know they had not just slighted some poor waif, they personally offended Christophe Venderi.
Kudlow sighed heavily once they were gone. "Oh hell, Reggie. I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry. By the time I knew what Lancaster was up to, it was too late. We were gone down that path again." Interesting. So it was an old issue, was it? "And goddamned if some of the younger ones didn't hop right on that train and ride it with him."
Reginald waved a hand. "You'll take care of it."
"With the press, sure. But I think we've just created quite a rift with Mr. Venderi."
"What do you expect? You know how important the kids are to Christophe. Especially the hard luck cases like..." He remembered I was there and stopped. It didn't matter. I knew the rest without him having to say it. "You'll have to do some ass kissing for awhile, that's for sure."
"He's out, you know. He hung himself." He was talking about Lancaster then.
"I knew he'd do it eventually. Why do you think I didn't protest his rise to arbiter? I imagine you'll be named next."
Kudlow snorted. "Good lord I hope not! I've been dodging it successfully for so many years it would be a wound to my pride if I couldn't keep that up!" He gave a deep laugh and shook his head. "Jake, a word of advice. Never be at the top. Not all the way. There's too much red tape to deal with to actually get anything done."
Reginald laughed, too. "Didn't you just get done telling me red tape has it's purpose?"
"Doesn't mean I want to be the one to have to cut through it!"
I was lost and bored and suddenly very tired. I wanted to go sit on the transport and hold Lynette's hand. Reginald noticed and got down to business.
"So how did our boy do?"
Kudlow smiled at me. "He did fine. Just fine. Though there was a little sticky wicket right at the beginning." At Reginald's raised eyebrow, he explained that Lancaster got me to admit to other races. Reginald still smiled, but his eyes cut to the door. He was obviously glad Christophe was not in the room to hear. "I deliberately cut off any other questions that way. But it won't fly, and you've got to be prepared for the questions from the press. They've got enough meat at the moment for about a day, then they'll seize on that tidbit like a meaty bone. We're going to have to have another session. We're the IOC. We absolutely cannot let it pass. It is our duty to address this."
Reginald rubbed his chin. "No, of course not. You've got all the data..."
"Reggie, I'm not questioning you. I've read it." He turned to me. "The things you've seen, Jake..." he shook his head. He had that look in his eyes, the one that makes me uncomfortable.
"I couldn't help it. I was just a kid..."
"Good god I'm not blaming you! You aren't in any trouble. I'm not even blaming your parents."
"You..aren't?"
"No. Well, yes, I mean. It's illegal and blah blah. But it's done, isn't it? And how would we even start to punish them?" He waved a hand. "Ridiculous. Maybe eighty years ago it mattered. But what matters now is the wealth of information that is you."
I didn't like the sound of that. Once again, I felt like nothing more than an experiment.
"You can make that look all you want, young man. Hell, in your shoes, I'd probably feel the same. But we will ask you questions and we will study your biostats and we will learn from you."
"So I am being punished for the actions of my parents." He fell several notches in my estimation. But that was only temporary. I am what I am and there's no getting around that. I guess I just hated to hear that confirmed.
"It's not punishment. It's your role in the education of society. You are the key to making them unafraid, Jake. However, I can promise the next interview you have with the IOC will be just that...with the IOC. No more of these public hearings of ridiculousness. I'm not one to have the same debacle twice."
"I thought you weren't going to take the arbiter position?" said Reginald with a sly little smile.
"I won't. But I can assure you the person who does will be more willing to listen to sane advice than Lancaster." He glanced at his watch. "Good lord is it late! You must be wiped." He put his hand out and I shook it, then he turned to Reginald. "Come to see me in a couple days and we'll hash out the next step over a whiskey."
"Make it a scotch and it's a deal."
We turned and started the walk down the long hallway to an elevator. Once the doors were closed and we were alone, Reginald quickly grilled me.
"It'll be in all the news," I said. "There had to be a million cameras."
"Right. But we've got an hour long ride to Washington, DC right now and I'd like to be able to tell Chris a thing or two about the day. We need to have a plan."
"But Kudlow said he'd handle things..."
He laughed and shook his head. "You really don't know how things work here, Jake." I didn't take offense. He was right. "Yeah, he's going to do what he can. I think he's dreaming if he thinks it'll take the press a whole day to question other races. You didn't tell them, did you?" He looked very worried.
"All I sai
d was that they exist..."
He swore, then swiped a hand over his face a took a quick breath. "It's not your fault. That sneaky bastard Lancaster had the whole thing planned. I knew it as soon as they changed the venue."
"I thought you changed it?"
He laughed. "You were supposed to think that." It made no sense and I said as much. "I said you don't understand how it works, and you don't. How could you? Most people on this damn planet don't really understand how it works. I'll put it in a little box for you and your mind can unwrap it later, okay?" The elevator door opened and we followed another hallway, walking slow enough for Reginald to say what he had to before we got to the transport.
I have been unwrapping it in my mind, with a little help from Ralph who actually seemed interested in it all. "Just a study in humanity, kiddo. You know how I love that."
Anyway, this is the gist. The IOC was created back in the days when StarTech actually started having some success under the leadership of Reginald's grandfather, John, and Justin Bradley. Once some highly advanced engines were produced which allowed safe, fast, and consistent travel to the Luna base, governments began to get nervous. "Of course. Think of the millions of ways that tech could have been abused," said Ralph. I suppose he's right. So the IOC was formed by people who were afraid of what could happen. Over the years, their minds were put at ease somewhat. People began to accept the advances and changes. Most importantly, they began to see that StarTech wasn't evil. They weren't trying to usurp any government. They weren't creating any weapons, none that could be used on Earth, anyway, and they weren't recruiting people who didn't want to be in their organization.
Then Reginald's father, Peter, took over. He had watched his father jump through hoops and grew up resentful of Earth. He pushed StarTech higher and father, but kept so many secrets that the IOC renewed it's fear. The damage almost lead to a governmental shutdown of all StarTech facilities. As a result, Reginald convinced his father to step down as head. That was fourteen years ago, and Reginald worked his butt off to gain the trust back.
"We're at a precarious point, Jake. They've seen everything my father hid. All of it. Every detail. And even that, even the secrets, were harmless to humanity. It wasn't easy, but it also was undeniable. Most of the IOC wants us to succeed. We're so very, very close." But there are "fundamentalists", he called them. People who still believed in the big, scary space. "And some of them are IOC members." He said there is a dance they have to do.
"There is the public image of StarTech, the public demands on the IOC, and then there's the truth of the matter."
"Can't the IOC just say they support StarTech?"
He laughed. "Of course not! They don't, for one. Oh, they allow us to do more and more. But they really do exist to keep us honest and to question everything, and I can't disagree with that. I saw what my father went through making his own little empire with no one to answer to. It eats a man up. There have to be rules, Jake. And I can't very well make my own, can I?"
It made no sense to me. Ralph got it. "He's afraid he'll become a power hungry tyrant. I can respect that."
"But I thought you want the IOC to let you do what you want," I said to Reginald.
"I want them to approve the good ideas. I also want them to keep shaking their heads at the bad ones. Humanity is not moving as fast as we are. It's frustrating. It's why I'd like to break free, and would if I could. Even then, though, I'd hope that the Utopians decided to form a council. I don't ever want to be the only one making decisions, Jake. I don't oppose democracy. Not at all. I just wish people were more ready than they are."
What I took from that was that to Reginald and StarTech, the IOC was the litmus paper of humanity. They are the test. They are the ones who let us know the speed people are willing to travel, how far they're ready to go.
We boarded the transport. Lynette was sitting alone with her head against the window. Her eyes were closed, but I didn't think she was sleeping. Marlon was sitting further up, bent over a terminal someone let him have. I bet it was Christophe, either as a reward or a distraction. He didn't even glance up when we walked in. Ralph patted my arm on my way past. He didn't have to say it. It was one of those "Good job, kiddo," kind of pats. I gave him a smile. Then I sat next to Lynette and took her hand. She didn't want to talk, but she didn't pull it away, either.
And then I had quiet. The transport pulled out. It was different from the sonic one we rode in on. This one had more luxury than function. We moved quickly, but the ride was far smoother than the other transport. The windows were tinted, but only slightly to take some of the glare off the blur. We could still see the landscape, just not bright enough to make us feel the vertigo we would have on the sonic train we took in. I leaned my head against the seat and let my mind wander over what Reginald said, think of the day, wonder what was coming, or how long I was staying, or...a billion half thoughts that flood in after a very long, very tiring day. Finally my mind gave up trying to think of anything but being hungry and where we were going.
Cosworth estates? That's where they said we were heading. I had "estates", whatever that meant. I sighed and hoped there would be food there. And a bed. And a long, quiet shower.