Authors: Catherine Asaro
Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Action & Adventure, #Science Fiction, #Space Opera
"Yeah, but I only get surface moods," Del said.
Cameron was watching him intently. "Could you get more?"
"Not really," Del said. "Even if I could break someone's mental protections, it's wrong. I wouldn't do that any more than I'd commit theft or assault."
Jud spoke dryly. "You're more courteous about privacy than people I know with the empathic abilities of a rock."
"Most people feel empathy to some extent," Tyra said.
"You ever hear that saying, 'Walk a mile in my shoes'?" Cameron asked. "It means 'Show some fucking empathy, already.' "
Del smiled. "Maybe." His good humor faded. "I'd go crazy if I couldn't shield myself from it."
"That why you're such an introvert?" Cameron asked.
Del blinked. "You think I'm an introvert?"
"Sure," Jud said. "Look how you always stay home. Even on tour, you hardly go out." Wryly he added, "Of course, Randall more than makes up for you in the partying department."
"I suppose." Del knew the empathy made it hard for him to be in crowds. He could probably walk a thousand miles in someone's shoes. He often wondered if it was more of a curse than a gift.
"The new vid should be done in a few months," Del said.
Staver nodded, relaxed in his chair. The four of them were sitting at a table by a wall of windows that looked onto a lake. The decor was elegant, but in a subdued way, with only a few hotel patrons at other tables. Aesthetic silvery-blue robots delivered their orders with impeccable courtesy.
" 'Emeralds' is doing better on the major Skolian charts," Staver said. " 'Sapphire Clouds' is more popular in smaller markets."
Del noticed he didn't mention "Diamond Star," which was higher than either "Emeralds" or "Sapphire Clouds," and on the Skolian Stellar Hundred. Since Mac wasn't here, Del didn't intend to agree to anything. But he had learned a bit about negotiating. "
The Jewels Suite
is number six on Earth's anthology charts."
"Six," Staver mused. "Not the top five."
"Yet," Del said. The anthology's slow but constant climb seemed to bemuse industry insiders. His work hadn't hit with a bang, but it had an unusual staying power. A band could do a virtual concert in one hundred cities on the same night, flooding the market, and the next day be replaced by a different virtual act in every city. When so much music was so available with so little effort, songs became ephemeral, easily forgotten. Del's music stood out, he didn't know why, but he needed to believe it had to do with quality, that it wasn't as worthless as the buried thought within him insisted.
He grinned at Staver. "It'll bust out to number one."
Staver gave a slight nod, his true reaction impossible to read. He was obviously interested, or he wouldn't have asked Del to lunch, but he wasn't committing to anything, either.
"This steak is good," Cameron said, oblivious to the undercurrents at the table. He had practically inhaled the biggest cut on the menu.
Tyra was picking at some fish-rice thing, and Staver had a stew from an offworld recipe. Del had ordered one of his favorites, a spiced curry with a freaky side dish called "yogurt." He could eat a vat of both, all mixed together, hot and cool, chewy and smooth. Although life on Earth could be a real pain, people here really knew how to eat. Everything on Lyshriol was bubbles: big, little, sweet, sour, leathery, smooth, but all bubbles. It got really boring.
Staver seemed distracted. He watched Del intently, and with a start, Del realized Staver was "knocking" at his mind.
Del partially lowered his shields, narrowing his focus so he wouldn't also send his thought to Tyra. She was a powerful psion, at least one in a million, six on the Kyle scale, maybe a seven. She wasn't as powerful as Staver, but then, almost no one alive had a rating that high.
Yes?
Del thought to Staver.
Staver stiffened as if he had been hit by a hammer. His thought came through, faint but clear.
Can you modulate that?
His response had a directional quality focused on Del, which meant Tyra probably wouldn't get any of this.
Del lowered his strength to the equivalent of a telepathic whisper.
Is that better?
Staver's shoulders relaxed.
Yes, much.
What didn't you want my friends to hear?
Del asked.
You spoke to me once about offering help,
Staver thought.
For those who live the nightmare of a provider's life.
Del thought of how Raker and Delilah had reminded him of Staver and Lydia. He responded warily.
I would need evidence my help would be used as expected.
And if that evidence was available?
If I were convinced, then yes, I would help.
Thank you.
Staver's thought came with depth. This was no mask; what Staver felt went far down within him. Even those skilled at presenting themselves in a falsely positive light couldn't keep that facade in a telepathic link. What Del felt from Staver was genuine, a strength of character that, given Del's suspicions, he hadn't expected. The only "act" Staver put on was the subtly glitzy exterior he adopted as an entertainment exec; the real Staver was a quieter man with an abiding sense of spirituality.
Del carefully raised his shields. Such mental contact was only possible between strong psions, and it was a strain for more than a few moments. He glanced at Tyra, who was pushing her food around her plate. She smiled at him, but he caught no indication she had picked up anything.
Del sipped his java, which tasted like a rich coffee, but was apparently named after some antique mesh language no one except historians knew anymore. As he drank, he lowered his shields again, this time focused on his bodyguard.
Tyra?
She blinked, her fork halfway to her mouth. But she continued to eat as if nothing happened. Cameron and Staver were talking about the hotel, a historical landmark from the twentieth century.
Tyra's voice came into Del's mind, well trained and clear.
Del, is that you?
she asked in Iotic.
Yes. It's me. Did you know Staver Aunchild is a psion?
Your brother has a file on him. It lists Aunchild's rating as eight point four.
So Staver had told the truth.
He may be part of an organization that frees providers. They route the people they help through Earth because the Allieds have less barriers to travel with the Traders than we do.
Tyra raised an eyebrow.
That wasn't in his file.
Interesting.
Either Staver's people had remarkable secrecy, hiding even from Kelric's relentless operatives, or else Staver had lied about his activities.
It doesn't mean ISC doesn't know,
Tyra thought. Her response had a strained quality.
They could even be helping him. That wouldn't be in his regular file.
Can you check for me? I was thinking of backing them.
I'll look into it.
She swallowed a spoonful of soup.
Del, I have to break this mental link.
Wryly she added,
Otherwise, you'll burn out my brain.
Sorry! Yes, of course.
They spent the rest of the meal with small talk. But as they were leaving the hotel, strolling past a waterfall of laser-light, Staver sent Del one last thought.
I'll be in touch.
"It's broad daylight," Del said with frustration. "The Baltimore waterfront is perfectly safe."
Cameron stood like a bulwark, blocking the door out of Del's apartment, and Tyra was by the wall, deceptively casual, but right next to the security screen. Which meant Del could neither open the door nor tell it to open itself.
"I'm going crazy," Del said. "I need to get
out.
"
"I'm sorry," Tyra said. She even looked as if she meant it. "Some festival is down there today. The place is full of tourists. But we could go somewhere else."
"Where?" Del asked grumpily. "You two nix everything."
"How about Life Million?" Cameron asked. "You'd love it."
"A
mesh
game?" Del couldn't believe Cameron had suggested it. "I want to talk to real people, not cartoons."
"It is real people." Cameron actually smiled. "In college, me and my friends used to hang out there when we couldn't get off campus."
"We used to do Life Million when I was at the Academy," Tyra told Cameron. "It was fun."
Well, that was great, his bodyguards were communing again. Good for them, they had so much in common. Del had never played the damn game. "Why call it Life Million?" he grumbled. "Why not Life Thousand? Hundred? Forty-two?"
"I think it was called Second Life when it started," Cameron said. "You know. You have your real life, and you have your mesh life. Except instead of mesh, they said Internet or some weird thing back then."
"Come on," Tyra coaxed Del. "Try it."
Right. His first life was hard enough to deal with. He couldn't imagine what he'd do with a million of them. He smiled, thinking a million Dels would give General McLane heartburn at a level he couldn't even imagine.
He lifted his hands in surrender. "Okay. Let's go."
The Baltimore waterfront seemed astonishingly real. But a real
what,
Del didn't know, because this sure as blazes wasn't the Baltimore where he lived.
He stood with Cameron and Tyra in a plaza surrounded on three sides by boutiques and cafes. Water bordered the fourth side and lapped against the piers there with a soothing, hypnotic sound. The bricks that paved the plaza were also somehow water, green and blue, with seaweed waving below the surface. Except it wasn't wet. Del's feet went in up to his ankles, and things swam lazily by his toes. A neon-bright fish sailed out of a brick, into the air, circled his knees, and dove back into the ground.
Del tried not to gape. Neither Tyra nor Cameron seemed fazed, and he didn't want to look like a rube, but honestly, who had thought up this place? Some of the shops glistened as if they were painted with sunlight. Strange, but pretty. He had a soundtrack, too; upbeat music played in the background, a fiddle and drums, just the way he liked. In fact, it fit his mood so well, he suspected the bliss-node was tailoring it to him.
The aroma of steak drifted past, delicious and inviting. Del wondered if he would feel full if he ate in a virtual cafe. Even more distracting than the smells were the
people.
They walked along, browsed shops, and flew in the air as if that were perfectly natural. A man strolled by Del wearing a translucent robe sewn from . . . starlight? A cat-woman covered with yellow fur ambled past, her ears cocked forward and her tail whipping back and forth across her shapely behind.
"Hey," a man said behind him. "Another Del Arden."
Startled, Del swung around. A man with black hair and an impossibly perfect physique nodded to him.
"That's a good Arden avatar," the man said. "Looks authentic."
"You think so?" Del even asked it with a straight face. He had come into the sim looking exactly like himself.
The man studied him. "The hair's not quite right."
Del blinked. "It isn't?"
"I have an Arden avatar, too. That's why I noticed yours. Here, I'll show you." The fellow blithely morphed into . . . Del. Except he was bigger, and his hair had more gold. Del had been inside so much lately, his hair was losing its sun streaks.
"Uh, yeah," Del said. "I see what you mean."
"You can get great two-tone work from Sean Cinquetti and Carolhyn Wijaya Shops Unlimited." The man blurred into his previous form as easily as if he were donning new clothes. "They're top-notch."
"Sure. Thanks." Del considered the man, who was half a head taller than him and a great deal more muscular. "I didn't think Del Arden was that big, though."
"Yeah, I know. I prefer this build." The man nodded. "Nice to meet you."
"See you." Del lifted his hand in farewell, and the guy went off.
"That was surreal," Tyra said, laughing.
"What?" Del asked. "You like the new, improved me better?"
"I prefer the original," she assured him.
"It's flattering," Del said. "Strange, though, that people want to look like me." He wondered what they did with their Del avatars, then decided he was better off not knowing. He motioned at the scene around them. "And all this. I like it, but it's odd. It's almost as if it was tailored for me."
"The basic sim is the same for everyone," Cameron said. "But if you have a good VR setup, its AI will mold what you experience to your personal tastes."
"I'd wondered," Del said. "What music do you hear?"
"Just the public feed," Cameron said. "Some Jupiter Heavy Hop thing."
"Is that what it's called?" Tyra asked. "I had no idea."
"I'm getting--" Del cut off as a holo formed in front of him showing city towers rising from an idyllic lagoon.
A female voice said, "Welcome to Life Million, Mister Arden. Extropia would like to extend you this invitation to join our community."
Del stopped, bewildered. He looked around to see if anyone else had cities floating in front of them. All the exceedingly beautiful people, animals, and cyborgs continued on their business as if nothing had happened. One man walked through Del's holo, then realized what he had done and apologized. No one else paid attention to the floating invitation, though one person did smile at Del, a female android with a dazzling figure, purple skin, and a blue harem outfit.
Del watched the android walk away until she went behind a building. Wow. Then he mentally shook himself and turned to his bodyguards. "Do you guys see that, too?"
Cameron grinned at him. "What, the hot android?"
Del flushed. "No.
This.
" He waved his hand through the holo invitation.
"Sure, we see it," Tyra said. "It must have been queued to activate if you came into Life Million."
"You rate high with someone," Tyra said. "Everyone wants to live in Extropia. It's so much in demand, it's impossible to buy land there now. It doesn't matter how famous or rich you are."
Del gaped at them. "You buy
virtual
land?"
"Sure." Cameron indicated the thriving harbor scene around them. "Baltimore has eleven harbor sims you can join."