“Yes? Well, we all have the ability to make playlists and pipe music into our rooms so does it really surprise you that the VIP quarters can also?”
“No Anzio. That’s just it,” I said. “Neither Jaki or Zeke turned anything off—at least not mechanically. They had to be controlling it through their bioware. It was their equipment.”
“Mark, I know it has been a long day and we are tired but my friend you are not making any sense,” Anzio said as he plopped down at his usual spot at the foot of my bed.
“So what if they had their own equipment? For all we know she could have a 10,000 watt amplifier and speaker system in her left earring—if she wore earrings—and we’d never know it.
“Does it really make any difference?”
“I don’t know if it makes any difference or not Anzio but what bugs me is not how she was playing it, it’s what she was playing; it was The Beatles.”
“The Beatles?”
“Yeah, the Beatles.”
“Well, I suppose if they’ve been monitoring our culture it’s not unusual that they’d find some music they liked,” said Julie.
We were at breakfast the next morning with Julie and Dr. Mom when Anzio described my preoccupation with what must surely be an unimportant detail.
Anzio responded, “More like monitoring our elevators.”
“No, that’s the thing,” I interjected. “It wasn’t an elevator remake without lyrics; this was the original stuff—I recognized Paul McCartney’s voice.”
“Earth to Mark, earth to Mark,” called Julie. “I think even an addlebrained history professor like you could realize that we have more important things to think about than their taste in music.”
Dr. Mom laughed and gently chided Julie by singing, “Oh Julie, let him be. Let him be. Let him beeeee. Whisper words of wisdom (by now the whole table had joined in), let him be, let him be.”
Dr. Decker had been about to sit down but without a break in his step had veered away from the table—which of course only led to more laughter. Maybe it was all of the tension we were under but the laughter was a needed relief.
“Well, it’s good to see that some of us are having fun,” Major Reagan said.
“Major Reagan! Please sit down,” at least two of us said at the same time.
He didn’t have a tray and since I was getting ready to grab a second carton of orange juice from the buffet line I asked him if he needed anything?
“No thanks Dr. Spencer, and actually I just came over to speak to you. It’s going to be all over the base soon so I don’t see any reason to keep it private from your tablemates…”
I paused halfway in the act of getting up and sat back down. The military mindset was hard for me to relate to but Major Reagan was a really decent sort and this sounded important enough to delay the seconds on OJ—besides, Hiromi had just sat down with her tray and I absentmindedly reached over and grabbed hers. Probably not a smart thing to do to someone that could rip out your heart with their little finger but I was fortunate that she had developed a tolerance for me which kept her lethality at bay.
“I know that you and Dr. Bell were told to stay away from Jaki and that further interviews with her would be conducted by the diplomatic group and Ambassador Rutledge, but as it turns out Jaki has requested you by name. This might be a great opportunity for the mission and Jaki appears to trust you but I’ve gotta let you know that it’s not scoring you any points with the command staff.”
“Way to go Mark!” and “Good job Mark!” came from Anzio and Dr. Mom.
“Anyway, this evening after we’re boarded and squared away you’re to meet with Ambassador Rutledge and his people to let them brief you on what questions to ask. Then tomorrow you’ll interview Jaki again.
“Oh and Mark, for whatever it’s worth I trust your instincts on handling Jaki but with the Dips… play nice.”
Chapter 16
Major Mathew Reagan, US Army
I never saw the outside of the Noridian ship, at least not so well that I could describe it. We were given embarkation orders that had us boarding by Platoon so my four squads along with my staff gathered in the warehouse structure at the top of the elevators, boarded a bus and took a short ride into the belly of… something.
My four squads and staff were each escorted to one of five elevators that were spaced equidistant around the circular bay. I thought there was a problem at first because there was no sense of motion, but when the doors opened my staff and I walked into a different room.
It was roughly circular with 12 ft. walls and a slightly domed ceiling. The floors and walls were seamless and I have no idea what they were made of. All of the doors would slide open and closed in the blink of an eye and without the slightest sound. The center of the room was a sunken living area given over to tables, chairs and couches while the outside walls were taken up with a circular walkway and doors, hallways or view screens (that were currently showing empty desert).
One door was for the elevator we had just exited from and another two revealed office and briefing accommodations. The other five were each marked with the names of myself and my staff and revealed spacious personal living quarters complete with small dining and sunken living areas, video screen, shower and a larger than expected lavatory as well as a small walk-in closet that held the equipment we had labeled ‘Immediate Access’ (we later learned that the rest of our equipment was stored on the floor below us).
This was much different than any of us had anticipated. I was used to thinking of shipboard accommodations as cramped with priority given over to saving space and weight; this was more luxurious by far than our base and was at least on the level with a very expensive apartment or penthouse.
There were five hallways also placed equidistant around the perimeter of the central area. Four of them led to each one of my squads that each had a smaller but identical design, spacious living quarters surrounding a smaller central area or ‘hub’, and the fifth which led to the (much larger) hub of the Earth Team HQ. It too followed the same design with living quarters and workrooms surrounding a common area, and had hallways that led to each of the three other platoons.
The Noridian that was escorting us (I don’t remember her name) pulled the other four members of my staff together in my living quarters and started demonstrating the amenities. Food preparation was as simple as verbally commanding the video screen to bring up a menu and speaking your selection. After a few minutes a tray would be ready inside the console adjoining the dining table. She actually apologized for the crudeness of the systems; explaining that Noridians used their bioware to control equipment and that they had ‘dumbed down’ our environment to respond to hand gestures and verbal commands.
It got interesting when the group moved to the lavatory. Although water was available in the sink basin the shower was waterless. When I declined what I thought to be her joking invitation to be the model for the shower demonstration, our hostess immediately and without modesty removed what turned out to be her only piece of clothing and stepped into the open-air alcove. With legs and arms held slightly apart she gave a verbal command and, while bathed in bright light, her breasts were slightly lifted and every hair on her head momentarily stood straight out. In a few seconds the light went out and she stepped out of the shower and started explaining that this device would not only clean the body, but could apply oils, moisturizer, various types of skin protection including ultra-violet, and varying degrees of melanin stimulation (tanning). If we were fitted with bioware, she explained, it would also monitor our health.