Bits of flower, p.17
Bits of Flower, page 17
“Faster than you’d think,” the artificial person said. “There’s a similar pair of escalators in the elevator hub, which means the travelers are already spaced out properly by the steps, and it’s in synch with the grips on the cable—”
“Not harnesses?” Rayne asked. “It doesn’t sound very safe if they’re just hanging on.”
“It’s all taking place in weightlessness,” Dewey reminded her. “The worst thing that can happen if you let go is you drift along, losing a little speed when you brush against the wall of the docking arm. If you don’t grab the next grip, a safety bot will come and retrieve you.”
“But what if you floated into the path of somebody moving in the opposite direction?”
“There’s a divider down the center of the arm so that can’t happen. If you don’t get your feet down or grip the escalator rail at the other end, it’s also enclosed in a tube, so you bounce off the roof of it and come down.”
“There’s something I don’t get,” Hercules said. “If the colony ship is attached to the elevator hub end-on, what difference does it make how large it is?”
“I should have been more specific,” Dewey said. “Flower can’t physically dock at Earth, even with an axis airlock, because her mass is too large relative to the mass of the elevator hub, enough to introduce a small gravitational attraction. It’s more a question of safety than physical limits, but there’s just no need to take chances.”
“Faster than I think,” Mouser returned to his original question. “A few hundred people an hour?”
“I’ve seen rates of a few thousand people an hour if they don’t mind jamming in tightly. Did you ever take an escalator up from a crowded subway station on Earth?”
“You have a point. And weightlessness doesn’t slow things down?”
“You have to remember that everybody on the elevator hub is already weightless and has been waiting in Zero-G for you to arrive,” Dewey said. “They’ll all be wearing magnetic cleats and used to shuffling around in a crowd.”
“Got it.” Mouser wrote something in his notebook before continuing. “The lift tubes are running at full capacity and the bazaar is overflowing with visitors from Earth. Rayne. What do you do?”
“Wait,” Hercules said. “Aren’t we going to try this with the visors on? You told us all to bring them.”
“Don’t know how I forgot when you’re all sitting there with them on your laps. Just give me a minute to get mine, and make sure you enable ambient sound or you won’t be able to hear the rest of us.”
“What about Belle and Dewey?” Rayne objected. “They’re going to feel left out if we’re all sitting here with visors and they’re not.”
“I don’t need one to tap into the data stream and produce a similar effect for myself,” the artificial person told her. “I assume Belle can do the same with her implant if Flower assists.”
“I’ll just wear one,” the Gem said. “I like the retro feel.”
“Alright,” Mouser said when he was settled back in his easy chair with a headset on. “You’re in your booth at the bazaar, Rayne.”
“I warm up my crystal ball and prepare to tell fortunes. Can I get Hercules to shill for me? Maybe strong-arm some passersby into entering the booth?”
“He makes all of his exotic dancing money when the ship is stopped.”
“Never mind,” Rayne said before Hercules could say that he’d be fine with the financial sacrifice. “Do I have some kind of sign that tells people the psychic is in, or do I just wait and hope? I don’t think it would make a good impression if I stood outside the booth like a carnival barker.”
“An older woman enters your curtained-off booth, dragging her reluctant grownup daughter behind her,” Mouser said. “Describe what they see.”
“I’m wearing a kind of gypsy fortuneteller outfit, with a red veil and all sorts of rings and gold bangles,” Rayne said. “I’m sitting behind a table with a stack of tarot cards, a crystal ball I bought from the Hortens that’s tricked out with a holographic projector so I can show some preprogrammed scenes to the rubes, and,” she paused for a moment, “there’s a big certificate on the wall showing that I’ve been certified as psychic by the Verlock thingy.”
“Wow, good job Flower,” Shadow said. “She looks like a fortuneteller from a video game, but in 3D.”
“It’s pretty impressive,” Hercules added. “Can you see yourself on your visor, Rayne?”
“No, but I’m looking right at the mother and daughter who I’m about to con out of their hard-earned creds,” Rayne said. “It’s kind of weird.”
“Is the Verlock certificate a real thing?” Belle asked. “I didn’t know humanity had developed any magic abilities.”
“I read something about that in the Galactic Free Press,” Delphi told her. “Verlock tourists on Earth complained that most of the psychics were fakes. Their diplomats insisted that EarthCent establish a certification program so that the tourists could tell the real psychics from the charlatans. In the end, the Verlocks had to provide the test, since we can’t tell the difference between somebody who’s just guessing and a real fortune teller, and a few people qualified.”
“Very good,” Mouser said. “We’ll say Rayne is the only certified psychic on board and being so means she only needs to advertise the fact to get customers.” He hesitated for a moment and then asked, “Is the certificate a forgery?”
Rayne smiled. “If it is, I must have paid top dollar because nobody has ever called me on it. I tell the mother and daughter to be seated, pull back my veil, and say in a foreign accent, ‘Your hearts are troubled.’”
“My daughter has been unlucky in love,” Mouser said, affecting a woman’s voice. In their visors, everybody saw the older woman speaking the words. “She’s married to her work and the only men she dates are from the office.” He shifted to speaking in a higher register and the words seemed to issue from the younger woman. “That’s not true, Mom. Brian was a client.”
“What kind of law do you practice?” Rayne asked. She added in an aside to the other players, “Fifty/fifty I’m right, and if I’m wrong, they’ll leave and I’ll try again.”
“Criminal law,” the mother said. “And she has the gall to remind me of Brian.”
“My rates are low compared to a lawyer, but I don’t think you came here to argue in front of me,” the fortuneteller said. “I charge ten creds for a simple reading and twenty for the full workup, but I need to know your exact time of birth for that.”
“Ten creds is fine, and the reading is for her,” the mother replied. Mouser raised his voice again and added as the daughter, “I refuse to go along with this nonsense.”
“Your last lover turned out to be married,” Rayne took a shot in the dark.
“How did you—alright,” Mouser said in the high voice, and the young woman they all saw in their visors leaned forward. “What do I have to do?”
“I take her hands, place them on the sides of the crystal ball, and say, ‘Behold your future.’ Then I look down at my lap and choose a scenario from my tab. Neither of them notices because they’re both staring at the swirling clouds that appeared in the ball as soon her hands started to warm the surface.”
“Sounds like somebody has run this scam before,” Delphi said, grinning as the visor zoomed in on the hints of images in the crystal ball.
“My mother likes romantic comedies,” Rayne replied, and this time, text reading ‘Sidebar conversation’ appeared superimposed over the scene as she spoke.
“I can’t see, it’s blurry,” Mouser said in the daughter's voice, and then switched to the mother. “It’s showing us Elliot, the one who proposed to you in law school.” He coughed and reached for a higher octave again, “Elliot didn’t have an ounce of romance in his soul. He only proposed to me because he wanted a roommate with benefits.”
“People change,” Rayne ventured in her artificial accent. “Maybe he’s become more daring, and you’re more interested in settling down. Perhaps you’ll meet in the middle.”
“That’s the name of your favorite restaurant, The Middle,” Mouser said in the mother’s voice. “It’s a sign. As soon as we get back to Earth, I’m calling Elliot and making a date for the two of you, and I’m not taking no for an answer.”
Shadow began to clap, drawing a punch in the arm from Delphi. “That was great, but one fortune told is enough,” he said. “They’re probably all the same in the end, anyway. I’m curious to see what Dewey is going to do as a freighter captain.”
“Has Flower provided you any details about the ship, Dewey?” Mouser asked.
“This is amazing,” the artificial person said. “It’s a Fleet Vergallian freighter, perfect cover for my intelligence work, and it’s got twenty times the capacity of the bookmobile, plus a reasonable punch if I encounter pirates.”
“What are you going to do with it?”
“Take on a load of cargo, I guess. I better check with the loadmaster and see if there’s anything waiting for the Paperback Reader.”
“That’s the name of your ship?” Delphi asked. “If I had access to the loadmaster training simulation we’ve been using in my Open University course—Wow!”
“Pretty cool,” Shadow said as the wrap-around console appeared on their visors. “Do you get to run all of those cranes?”
“They’re just for moving large containers from the docking bay to the first deck out, which serves as a sort of cylindrical cargo hold. I don’t think Dewey’s ship would fit anything that big.”
“Paperback Reader has been modified to handle up to four standard Dollnick shipping containers, though only if the lower deck is completely empty,” Dewey told them. “There’s an articulating platform system that handles all the standard Vergallian sizes, and it works with most Drazen containers as well.”
“Here it is,” Delphi said, and the view zoomed in on a display that showed ship names associated with cargo container IDs. “I’ve got two Dollnick containers of fresh fruit for you, going to Break Rock.”
“Do I have to move my ship or will you send them over?”
“First I have to find them.” The visor view changed to a three-dimensional representation of stacked cargo containers as seen from the side. Two containers, one next to the other, were highlighted with a blue outline. “Normally I would be doing this with hand movements in the hologram, but I forgot to strap the virtual reality controllers on my wrists, so Flower must be doing the manipulations for me.”
“I’m doing it over my implant at Flower’s request,” Belle spoke up. “It’s an interesting experience. I can see the attraction.”
“The good news is that they’re only one layer down,” Delphi said. “The bad news is that they’re next to each other. If I had done the load-in, I would have seen that they were going on the same ship and stacked them on top of each other to minimize moving other containers.”
“Reverse Tetris,” Shadow commented.
“So what are you going to do?” Mouser asked.
“I’m sending the closest gantry crane to lift the cargo container off the one on the left to get it out of the way. Hold on while I check where it’s going.”
“What difference does it make as long as it’s not going with Dewey?” Rayne asked.
“That’s the fun part of loadmastering. We’re always taking advantage of reshuffling containers to create a more perfect load. But this is going to take me a few minutes, so maybe you guys want to do something else.”
“I should have brought Sarah. She loves arranging things.”
“Why didn’t you bring her today?” Mouser asked. “I was hoping to run through a classroom experience with her to get a feel for it.”
“She’s volunteering with Mom and Dave on the independent living deck,” Rayne said. “There’s a program for visiting members who seem to be withdrawing and spending all of their time in their cabins. Dave got roped into doing it because he’s a good talker, and my mother is no slouch at making conversation.”
“Won’t it be depressing for Sarah?” Hercules asked.
“I won’t know until she tries it. Dave asked mom to bring her because Zelda ate something bad and isn’t herself.”
“I thought Flower supplied all of the food to the independent living deck.”
“Zelda is a black Labrador who stays in the library,” Dewey told them. “Dave is paying a real compliment to Sarah by asking her to fill in. When Zelda puts her big soft head on your knee and offers a paw, it’s impossible not to feel better.”
Fourteen
“Where did you learn how to make pancakes?” Sarah asked Hercules. “You don’t have any children.”
“What makes you think that pancakes are for kids?” he replied, keeping an eye on the griddle for the first sign of bubbles forming.
“Nobody ever makes them unless I’m around.”
“There’s an error in your logic,” Hercules told her, gently prodding the edge of the first pancake poured with his spatula. “Not quite ready to flip yet.”
“Grandmas make the best pancakes,” Sarah asserted.
“How big is the sample size you’re—there. See how the edge is forming and it’s starting to bubble? Time to flip.”
“Grandma puts the butter on while the griddle is heating, but you waited until it was hot,” she said in an accusatory tone.
“I worry about it burning,” Hercules said as he flipped all of the pancakes, one after another. “No matter how carefully you watch the batter cook, if you start by burning the butter, it’s all over.”
“Are you going to marry mom soon?”
“Do you know what a non sequitur is?”
“A big word you’re using to avoid answering the question,” Sarah said, trying to look stern.
“It’s when somebody says something out of sequence,” Hercules told her as he began sliding the pancakes off the griddle and onto the ready plate. “Like when a certain young lady is critiquing the finest pancake maker within a parsec and suddenly asks if he’s going to marry her mother soon. What even brought that up?”
“You slept over again. Mom never used to let you sleep over. Does she make you lie on the floor?”
“Stack of six, add your own butter and syrup.” He watched out of the corner of his eye as he poured out the batter for six more pancakes and smiled to himself when she fell to eating without pushing the last question.
“Morning,” Rayne said as she entered the kitchen. “Ooh, breakfast. Did you mix enough batter for yourself too?”
“Momma didn’t raise any fools,” Hercules said. “I mixed the whole package, and I can eat the whole package, but this one was already awake and asking questions.” He pointed at Rayne as he said the last bit, with his finger along the handle of the spatula where only she could see it, hoping that she’d get the message he didn’t want any part of answering the last one.
“I’m sure it can wait,” Rayne said, smoothing her daughter’s hair as she stepped past. She glanced at the visor on the kitchen counter, and asked, “Were you just cramming how to make pancakes in virtual reality?”
He showed her an offended look as he began flipping the second batch. “I’ve known how to make pancakes since I was Sarah’s age, and I’ve made them for you before. It’s terrible that the memories I cherish made no impression on you.”
“I was kidding,” Rayne said, though in truth, she couldn’t remember him ever making pancakes. “So what were you doing with the visor?”
“Checking the status of the ship,” Hercules said, looking a little sheepish. “Shadow and I are sort of competing on the simulation, and sometimes it throws off random problems that are much easier to address if you get to them immediately. I don’t know if it’s unrealistic that Dollnick technology would generate so many service tickets, or if the ship is so big and complicated that in real life there would be a hundred times as many.”
“It’s not just a ship,” Sarah said between bites. “It’s a city. Flower says that even in a modern city something is always broken somewhere.”
“You talk to Flower about public works?” Hercules asked as he began sliding the second batch of pancakes onto a plate.
“She keeps horning into the children’s classes as a substitute teacher,” Rayne explained, accepting the plate. “Six is too many for me.”
“Use less syrup and butter,” he suggested.
“Not a chance.”
“Flower is the best teacher,” Sarah declared, having finally polished off the first quarter of the pancake stack that she’d cut into four more or less equal wedges with the edge of her fork. “She knows everything.”
“I’m not sure that’s the best qualification for a teacher,” Rayne said, carefully slipping narrow pats of butter between pancakes in her own stack. “It’s not about how much the teacher knows. It’s how much you know at the end of the class and how eager you are to learn more.”
Sarah tilted her head slightly, clearly considering the concept. Then she lifted a couple of layers of pancake wedge on her fork and said, “I’ll ask Flower next time she substitutes.”
“You don’t talk to her at home?” Hercules asked, checking the edges of the next batch of pancakes that he intended for himself.
“Just in school and the lift tubes,” the girl replied after swallowing.
“What are you planning today?” Rayne asked Hercules between bites. “I told Lynx I’d join her to see how they register the colonists offloading at Earth Two.”
“I didn’t think Flower made a fuss over any of that,” Hercules said.
“It’s not Flower, it’s an EarthCent thing. They, or maybe the Human Empire, are the ones that signed the treaty with the Alts to share the planet, and they keep track of everybody who goes there. Flower does the ferrying, but her only official duty when we’re stopped at Earth Two is monitoring the progress of the late-stage terraforming crews. The way Lynx tells it, they’re basically landscaping.”
