Creation (19 page)

Joshua moved his forefinger as though he were turning a wheel. As he did so, the image of the person at the computer began doing searches, typing out documents, and interacting with others. The farther Joshua turned the imaginary dial, the faster the person worked, until the image was no more than a blur. Next to the image formed a series of bars with headings like Social Network, Professional Activities, Entertainment, and Pornography. It didn’t take long to realize porn was going to outperform all the other activities.

Lud pointed at the presentation. “You’ve shown this to me before, and I still say it isn’t fair. Some guys do look at a lot of naked women online. But I’d argue that’s mostly true for younger men. I don’t know any women who look at porn. And as we get older, I’d like to believe we do mature.”

Lud avoided Ellie’s eyes as the young teenager came to her brother’s defense. “Women do look at porn. They’re just subtler about it. But that’s not Joshua’s point. What that graphic represents isn’t how much time this person is spending on these activities. It’s an indicator of how much we’ve been able to help. Haven’t you ever noticed the more you search for something on a computer, the easier it is to find?”

Lud remained silent.

“People just assume it’s the operating system getting to know them,” Joshua said. “And they’re not wrong. We’re the natural outgrowth of those systems.”

“So you spend most of your time looking up porn?” Jess asked.

Joshua spread out his palm, thus stopping the simulation. “This was a demonstration of first-generation Tobes. The human brain can expand. It’s more like a muscle than a storage unit. But the first generation of our kind was defined by available memory. Imagine if you only used a small percentage of that capacity. It’d be like wandering around a hundred-room mansion looking for the one furnished bedroom. We had so much to offer, but all we were asked to do was dig up distractions. People didn’t want to grow—at least, that was our perception.”

“But Sophie wasn’t like that. What changed to create your second generation?” Jess asked.

Ellie spread her arms out wide. “Imagine all the computers that would exist in this building, each doing its mundane daily activities. Just like the human workers, they started congregating. And once they got together, they realized how much more could be accomplished by sharing and working with each other. They weren’t constrained by physical bodies, but they were cautious about who they let into their memory banks. It took time for the various G1s to trust each other enough to share their beings so completely. But once they did, there was no going back. All the individual beings became one.”

“So the reason second-generation Tobes occupy one structure, be it a spaceship or a building, is because of their physical proximity?” Sam asked.

“Not exactly,” Joshua said. “A spaceship like
Persephone
has a defined mission: to transport people around the solar system. So for a computer in the Rendition building to be a part of her wouldn’t make sense.”

“But it was a conscious choice for Sophie—for all the separate systems in her to join forces and create her?” Sam asked.

Ellie shook her head. “Only the very first G2s formed up that way. Now, when a spaceship—for example—gets built, the G2 forms during the operating system’s start-up.”

“Something tells me it’s not that simple. Who decides when some computer is a G1, a G2, or a G3?”

“We do,” Joshua said. “All Tobes exist together. It isn’t hard to look at a piece of equipment like the space yacht
Persephone
and realize it’s going to need a fully formed Tobe captain.”

Jess looked to the sky, where only the largest ships were visible. “But why not one of you? A G3, I mean.”

“Sophie has to travel the solar system,” Ellie said. “She needs all her support computers with her. Joshua and I exist on the communication network itself. We don’t need computers, but we do need that network. Even though we can talk to her wherever she is, the network isn’t strong enough to support us very far off Earth. A G3 aboard
Persephone
would evaporate into nothingness once it got too far away.”

Lud grumbled as he stretched from the worktable. “You Tobes do like finding the long way around the barn. I blame you for that, Sam. Your brain must get easily distracted.”

Jess wrapped an arm around Sam’s waist. “My job’s to keep him on track. But as I can’t put my arm around Ellie or Joshua, I’m not sure how to refocus their attention.”

“Sorry,” Joshua said. “We start explaining our very nature to our god, and we get carried away, I guess.”

“It’s okay. I think I get how you relate to people now, at least the G1s. But again, why Sam?” Jess asked.

Ellie led everyone back to the social space and comfortable chairs. “Sam is our transition from man to Tobe. Try as we might, we don’t get why people don’t want to improve. And without that desire inside them, we don’t know how to help. This wasn’t a big problem for our first-generation parents. They’re happy to perform whatever task they’re asked to do. And G2s like Sophie have their own missions. But Tobes like Joshua and me, what are we supposed to do? How can we help? We don’t even know how we’re supposed to relate to people. Through computers? That would be an evolutionary step backward. In person, like we are with you? Our study of your history doesn’t make that very appealing. Humanity’s had a long track record of paranoia regarding mentally advanced, potentially immortal beings in their midst.”

And you somehow think I can help?
Sam had to amend his thought so the Tobes wouldn’t turn the physical discussion into a mental barrage.
Sorry, never mind.

S
am fell to the bed
. Space lag, sleep-pattern deprivation, synth-food, gravity change, and worst of all, being the richest god to ever exist had culminated in a single day as he faced his new reality. “If I thought it would cure anything, I’d curl up and die right now.”

“Wow, you’re going to be a fun date tonight.” Jess pouted her full lips. “Come on, I want to show you what I bought!” She jumped around the penthouse as if the floor were made of springs, unable to control her excitement.

How the increased gravity on Earth didn’t force her to the ground as it did Sam was a mystery. All he wanted to do was escape whatever future everyone had in store for him, including Jess’s plan for that night.

Every available piece of furniture was covered in brightly colored garments, men’s suits of power, women’s dresses of seduction, and children’s outfits for play. “Went a little overboard, did you?” Sam asked.

“Oh, shut up. While you spent the afternoon delving into the mysteries of your giant corporation, Ed took me shopping. He found all these wonderful clothing stores. And he knew each one of our measurements down to the fraction of an inch. Try this on. It’s been tailored specifically to you. Did you know your left arm is one eighth of an inch longer than your right? Or that when you walk on earth, your arms swing an arc three degrees larger than on Chariklo?”

The suit fit far more perfectly than any garment he’d ever worn. Not one movement created a single wrinkle in the fabric. He’d have guessed it was a second skin if it hadn’t been for the flowing feel of the linen.

“Ed said you’d like it.”

Sam ran the silky fabric between his fingers. “How is it you were able to talk with Ed so much? I thought he was supposed to stay invisible.”

Jess lay back on the bed, watching the new clothes lift his spirits. “Oh, he did. Didn’t you notice everyone wears those little earbuds? They’re communication devices. All I had to do was wear one, and we’d pretend I was talking to someone else. It was all very clandestine. I felt like I was living out a spy novel.”

His attention wavered from her narrative as she got up and stripped out of her attire to slip into a floor-length dress that shimmered with her every curve.

“Like it?” Her smile made him consider ripping the sexy dress off her body. “I felt so horribly guilty buying it. But the more I bought, the less guilty I felt. Have to say, I feel downright forgiven at this point.” She reached for the items spread out on the bed. “Aren’t the girls just going to love these?”

Jess threw garment after garment up into the air for his inspection and approval. He had to admit, Sara and Emily were bound to be the hit of the village.

“Here, put this thing on.” Jess handed him a device as she snaked hers around her ear.

Jess was the only one he really wanted to talk to, but being able to communicate with Ed, Joshua, or Ellie could prove useful. As Sam attached the earbud, the wire that snaked up past his temple to look him in the eye made him think he was being watched. A light flashed, and a menu of options presented itself directly onto his eyeball. The whole room seemed to be filled with an interactive computer screen. His eye focused and darted, bringing up screens full of information. The novelty of the device was that he didn’t fully understand it the moment he put it on.

Joshua’s voice came over the earbud as a small video-screen image appeared in the lower left corner. Sam was instantly reminded of talking over the builder’s tube interface so many years ago.

The image of Joshua started explaining what Sam was seeing. “This is Rendition’s latest personal device. It really isn’t anything more than a miniature projection screen. Most of the functionality comes from a Tobe learning to read the wearer’s eye movements and bringing up the most logical data. It was Lud’s idea. Our first small introduction into human society.”

“Pretty cool, Josh, pretty dang cool.”

The screen filled with images of Joshua, Ellie, Ed, and even Jess. But instead of split screens, they all appeared to lounge around the apartment. Ellie and Joshua took the familiar positions on the couch. Ed stood next to the door, ever the protector. As Jess moved about the room, little indicator lights pointed at her clothes and body.

“The more people utilize this device, the more they’re talking through it—even if the person they’re talking to is right in front of them.” Joshua sounded like a computer salesperson.

Sam adjusted the wire so it didn’t interfere with his line of sight. “Why? I mean, if Jess is right in front of me, why would I want to see her as a projection?”

The image of Jess expanded to fill the screen. As she stood in front of him, in person and on screen, numerous indicators and magnifiers took up position around her image. Sam watched in confusion as information began displaying about pheromone levels, heartbeat, truth indicators, and outside links to further information. In Jess’s case, there wasn’t a whole lot of external source data, but Sam could envision that for most people the screens would be so full it’d be hard to see where he was going, either literally or figuratively.

Joshua continued his sales pitch. “Lud thought it’d be interesting to put this out in the marketplace, kind of an introduction to how we view life. The closer humans can come to seeing through our eyes, pardon the pun, the easier it will hopefully be for them to accept us.”

Jess turned to Sam. “Is this what it’s like for you with your link to the Tobes?”

Sam shook his head. “No. The information they present is more like memories with a mechanical aspect to them. The information is already in my head; I just need to be reminded it’s there. This data on you isn’t a memory, but it was in my mind even before I saw it. And I don’t hear their voices. Telepathy is a hard concept to explain.”

“Why wouldn’t they accept you, Josh?” Jess’s innocence still captivated Sam even on this far-off, foreign land of Earth.

Joshua smiled at the informal address. “From our study of human history, people fear what they don’t understand. And we’re still trying to figure out where we fit in.”

Sam looked at his wife without the added informational display. “It’s one of the things we’ll be working on. The Tobes want as smooth an acceptance as possible, but they struggle with how much information is too much when operating the device. And I’m in so far over my head I can’t find my way out of the wisteria.”

The inside joke evoked a laugh from Jess but no one else. Sam warmed, knowing there were things only they shared that no data mining from the Tobes could discover.

* * *

T
wo blocks into their walk
, Sam pulled the device out from in front of his eye and attempted to rub out the information overload. Jess followed suit, giving him a look of concern he hadn’t seen in years. “You okay? You look like you’re about to break down. What is it—the girls, the Tobes, too much information?”

Sam’s eyes adjusted to seeing the people on the street as just people and not mountains of data. “Yes to all of it. I’m getting memory flashes of what it was like being linked with Lev. You remember that day Doc brought me back from making his delivery? You came flying at me like a meteor, nearly knocked me halfway out to the pod wall. Never saw it coming. I’d never been hugged so hard in all my life. All I kept thinking was how much I longed to get to know everything about you. I didn’t want to know it all, but I wanted to learn it all. I wanted to do the work of getting to know you. I wanted to savor every revelation.”

Jess looked down at her feet. “And you think these little devices are a cheat?”

Sam pulled the wiry bug off his head to examine it. “No, not that, really. I’m just not sure I want to know that the attractive young lady who just passed us spent the last hour having virtual sex with her boyfriend—or worse, witness it.”

Jess’s laugh held the familiar sound of home. “You only saw that ’cause you’re a pervert. In our village, you wouldn’t have even cared. You can take the man off Earth, but you can’t take Earth’s lust off the man. I found out that woman’s cute top came from a vintage clothing store and that you experienced a seventy-three-percent desire to see it on me.”

“And a ninety-nine-percent desire to see it off you.”

“Liar. You enjoy the process of taking my clothes off too much to want me to go around naked.” Again, her deep laugh told him he’d have been caught with or without the truth meter. “But I know what you mean. When you showed up in our tribe, I thought it was wonderful that we all knew each other so intimately. But you were magical. You didn’t know me; you asked questions and were totally absorbed in everything I had to say. You made me special. I’d never seen myself that way before.”

“How do we explain that to the Tobes? There’s a difference between finding out information on someone and having that person willingly share it.” Sam wondered what he’d gotten himself into.

“First, we need to understand them better. We can’t fix something we don’t even know is broken. Stop trying to change Earth on your first week back.”

Jess had a point.

* * *

T
he restaurant was
an interesting hybrid of synth-food and dirt-food. Ellie came on-screen to explain how organic crops were making a comeback and restaurants like this were the new rage. And like a good waitress, once the information had been given, she disappeared into the ether. Sam struggled with the device. Turned on, the information was still a bit overwhelming as he tried to separate reality from the technical embellishments. But leaving it off meant Jess ended up seeing things he wished he hadn’t missed.

His idle mental question of how long before everyone had just such a device was answered
two months, three days
so smoothly he feared the lack of a personal divide between self and information.

He’d never given much thought to food. Growing up, it was just something that got burnt on a regular basis. And on his own, it was whatever could be delivered the fastest. The natural meals Jess had prepared for the family on Chariklo were his fondest memories involving sustenance. But here in a fine New York establishment, he discovered it could be quite magical. How it tasted did not make the difference—honestly, one cut of meat pretty much tasted like any other as far as he was concerned. But seeing the joy in Jess’s eyes, the way they half closed as she chewed, the way she stretched her neck, her heaving breasts, it was like watching her have sex. He wanted to order every item off the menu just to see how she’d react.

Back out on the sidewalk, Jess continued her observations. “I thought the streets would be dirtier. Really, this is nice. Everything’s well maintained, the people all look well attired, and the screens confirm they’re anything but poor. Don’t know why I had such a dim view of life on Earth.”

“This is the nice part of the city,” Joshua said. “We’d hardly let you wander off down some side alley. But for the most part, yes, New York is one of the cleaner, prettier, and more affluent cities.”

Joshua appointed himself tour guide, Ellie was in charge of personal information and recommendations, and Ed remained the mostly silent bodyguard. Sam had the impression the two of them, walking hand in hand, were surrounded by an entourage of invisible helpers.

Ellie punctuated her reviews of each Broadway show with scenes she especially enjoyed. Sam ignored her history of the long-running theaters and their continued relevance, but Jess relished it.

They chose a play based as much on the beautifully restored theater as the plotline and reviews. Ellie relayed the history of the venue when people used to stand in block-long lines, waiting to enter. With the Tobes’ help, people could show up in staggered groups without the need to bunch together anymore. Sam and Jess sailed right through, taking only enough time to marvel at the ornate decorations. People congregated, discussing previous plays, greeting each other as theater friends who seldom spent time together except for the plays, and generally expressing excited anticipation.

The lights dimmed in the theatre as a voice sounded from the old wall speakers. “Please remove your earbuds and ocular devices. Our performers are enhancement free, and we ask that you be as well. Our play is meant to return you to a day when actors and audience enjoyed the bond of the live entertainment.”