Then Juan had to go help his mother. As he faded away, Robert studied the examples. He recognized some of the steps from the protocol descriptions, but, "How did you know all that?"
Foolish question. The boy looked a little startled. "It's just — it's just kind of intuitive, you know? I think that's the way the interface is designed." And then he was completely gone.
No one was home right now, so Robert went downstairs and fixed himself a snack. Then he played back the steps the boy had shown him. He had no excuse for further delay. He hesitated a moment more… then applied the steps to each of the "creditats."
Bright green. Bright green. Bright green.
The Mysterious Stranger didn't like to come visiting when Robert was indoors at home. Maybe the USMC was not as incompetent as the Stranger claimed. Robert began to look forward to his time away from home with anticipation and dread. Very soon he must decide. Was betrayal a price he could pay for a chance to be his old self once more?
Days passed. Still no contact. The Stranger wants me ripe for the picking .
When it finally happened, Robert was walking around the neighborhood, doing another interview with Zulfikar Sharif. The young man hesitated in the middle of a question and looked at him.
Miri — > Juan: <sm>I'm locked out!</sm>
Juan — > Miri: <sm>Again?</sm>
Miri — > Juan: <sm>Yes again!</sm>
Sharif's earnest features took on the sly, greenish cast of the Mysterious Stranger. "How is it going, my man?"
Robert managed a cool response. "Well enough."
The Stranger smiled. "You look a bit peaked, Professor. Perhaps you'd be more comfortable sitting down." A car slid to a stop beside them. The door opened and the phantom graciously waved Robert inside.
"This is more secure?" Robert said as they pulled away from the curb.
"This car is. Remember, I have powers far greater than your little friends." He settled in the back-facing seat. "So. Have you convinced yourself that I can help you?"
"Maybe you can," said Robert, a little bit proud of how level his voice sounded. "I checked your creditats. You don't seem to know anything about anything, but you have this knack for bringing the right people together and being around when those people solve serious problems."
The Stranger waved his hand dismissively. "I don't know anything about anything? You are naive, Professor. Our world is overflowing with technical expertise. Knowledge is piled metaphorical light-years deep. Given that, the truly golden skill is the one I possess — to bring together the knowledge and abilities that make solutions. Your Ms. Chumlig understands that. Schoolkids certainly understand. Even Tommie Parker understands, though he has one important detail backwards. In me," another elaborate gesture, his hand flattening against his turtleneck shirt, "in me, you have the far extreme of this ability. I am world-class at 'bringing-together-to-get-answers.'"
And with an ego to match. How does he get his way when he's dealing with the Einsteins and Hawkings of this era? Surely he doesn't have everyone by the short hairs ?
The Stranger leaned forward. "But enough of me. Winnie Blount and his 'Elder Cabal' are getting desperate. I'm not exactly desperate, but if you delay more than another few days, I cannot guarantee an acceptable outcome. So. Are you on board or not?"
"I — Yes. I am." Twenty years ago, betraying Bob would not have bothered him. After all, the idiot was an ingrate. Now, no glib excuse rose to mind, but… I'll do anything to recover what I lost . "What is this biometric information you want on Alice?"
"Some sonograms we can't take in public. A microgram blood spot." The Mysterious Stranger pointed at a small box that lay on the seat between them. "Take a look."
Robert reached down… and his fingers touched something hard and cool. The box was real. That was a first for the Mysterious Stranger. He took a closer look. It was gray plastic without any openings or even virtual labels. Wait, there was the ubiquitous "no user-serviceable parts within."
"So?"
"So, leave that in your front bathroom this evening. It will do the rest."
"I won't do anything to hurt Alice."
The Stranger laughed. "Such paranoia. The point of all this is to pass unnoticed. Alice Gu is in public places several times a week. If ill were wished her, those would be the opportunities to take advantage of. But you and the cabal just need biometrics… Any other questions?"
"Not just now." Robert slipped the gray plastic box into his pocket. "I just can't imagine that twenty-first-century military security can be duped by something as simple as a drop of blood and some sonograms."
The Stranger laughed. "Oh, there's much more to it than that. Tommie Parker thinks he's covering the angles, but without my help you four would not even get into the steam tunnels." He looked at Robert's stiff expression and laughed again. "Think of your part as being the user interface." He gave a little bow. "And I am the user."
Robert made a point of taking the Stranger's gadget through the front hallway bug trap. The small box triggered no alarms he could see. So betrayal was as simple as walking into the first-floor bathroom and setting the box down among the bags and aerosols and squeeze tubes that were already piled on the side counter. Modern bed and bath products were a bastion of old-style physical advertising. After all, even the most modern folks had to take off their clothes and their contacts somewhere. But Alice and Bob had no style. They bought the cheapest commodity products they could find. The devil box fit right in.
Robert took a long shower. It would be nice to feel clean. He heard no strange sounds, saw nothing strange through the frosted glass. But when he came out of the shower, he noticed that there was no mysterious gray box either. Even when he pawed around the counter, touching every object there — there was no sign of the intrusion. The bathroom door had been shut the whole time.
Someone knocked on the door, happily following the family rules about not snooping through bathroom walls. "Robert, are you okay?" It was Miri. "Alice says it's dinnertime."
Dinner was a nightmare.
It was always tense when the four of them ate together. Usually, Robert could avoid such get-togethers, but Alice seemed determined to see him with the whole family at least once a week. Robert knew what she was up to. She was recalibrating, deciding if now she could lower the boom on her father-in-law.
Tonight she was steelier than ever, and it didn't help that Robert had serious things to hide. Maybe she had some special reason to be suspicious. He noticed that Bob and Miri were doing all the running back and forth to the kitchen. Usually Alice helped with that. Tonight she sat herself down in her usual place, and grilled Robert in her merciless, casual way: how was school going, what about the project with Juan. She even asked about his "old friends," for God's sake! And Robert explained and smiled and prayed he was passing the test. The old Robert never had trouble stringing people along !
Then Bob and Miri were sitting down to eat. Alice shifted her attention from her villainous father-in-law. She chatted with Miri in the same friendly, interested tones she had used with Robert. Miri replied with precision, a detailed summary of just who and what was good and bad at school.
For a while Robert almost relaxed. After all, they were here to eat. Surely that couldn't give him away.
But something was up, and it wasn't just his imagination. Bob and Alice got into a discussion of San Diego politics, a school-bond issue. But there was an edgy undercurrent; some couples really argue politics, but this was the first time Robert had ever heard that from these two. And every so often Alice's clothing flickered . Around the house in the real world, Alice Gu wore a dumpy hausfrau dress that wouldn't have been out of place in the 1950s. When she flickered, it was virtual imagery, nothing like Carlos's old-fashioned smart T-shirts. The first time it happened, Robert almost didn't notice — partly because neither Bob or Miri reacted. Half a minute later — as Alice gestured emphatically about some outstandingly trivial election issue — there was another flicker. For an instant she was dressed in something like naval whites, but the collar insignia said "PHS." PHS ? There were lots of different Google hits on the abbreviation. A minute or two passed, and she was briefly a USMC full colonel. That , Robert had seen before, since it was her true rank.