Guest Night on Union Station (2 page)

“And what’s the embassy’s interest in sponsoring the conference? I thought EarthCent was set up to deal with aliens, not humans.”

“That’s a good question, though after thirty years of working for EarthCent, I sometimes think the humans I meet are the aliens,” Kelly said with a smile. “The embassy is really just a facilitator for the conference. Daniel attends as an observer, and his job, from EarthCent’s perspective, is simply making sure that the sovereign human communities don’t drift so far out of Earth’s sphere of influence that we become strangers to one another. I really have to head home now, but you’re welcome to walk with me.”

“I’ll do that,” Bob replied. He looked down at his tab to check that the voice-to-text function had properly taken in Kelly’s speech and put the words in the right box. “Let me see, just one more question.”

“How?” Kelly guessed.

“How does Junior Consul Cohan get these communities to spend the money to send representatives all the way to Union Station?” Bob asked. “I visited quite a few open worlds while working for the Grenouthians, mainly to report on crop failures, mining accidents and natural disasters. Open worlds are a new thing, at least as far as humans are concerned, and while they’re building rapidly, money is usually scarce.”

“Off the record,” Kelly said.

“If it’s off the record, how can I fill in the space on my tab?” Bob asked plaintively, displaying the “How” box to the ambassador.

“Anonymous sources say,” Kelly suggested. “Unnamed officials, senior diplomatic personnel. Anything like that.”

“Oh, I get it. So who pays?”

“EarthCent Intelligence. I’m pretty sure they make the money back by selling market information to the attendees, and they’re probably recruiting agents on the sly as well.”

“But their office is right across the corridor from us,” Bob said in surprise. “My editor, Mr. Dunkirk, used to work for them. I even heard that our publisher is from the same family as the people running the intelligence agency.”

“So you can stop in and ask for yourself,” Kelly told him. “Think of it as investigative reporting.”

Two

“Did you see the headline in this morning’s paper?” Shaina asked her husband at breakfast. Many of the local humans had been caught up in Chastity’s enthusiasm for the old newspaper business and adopted the archaic terminology, despite the fact that the Galactic Free Press wasn’t printed on paper. It was delivered over the Stryxnet to anything that could show text and graphics, including implants with holographic heads-up displays.

“You know I never read the paper before going into the office,” Daniel replied. “It’s all work related, so I wait until I’m on the clock.”

“But you’re a salaried employee,” Shaina pointed out. “There is no clock.”

“It’s the thought that counts. What’s the lead story?”

“EarthCent Ambassador Kelly McAllister Thinks Humans are Aliens.”

“Hey, that’s a good one. Walter is really developing a flair for writing headlines.” The junior consul stopped to adjust his necktie, glancing at himself in the kitchen display panel that was in mirror mode. “How are he and your sister getting along these days?”

“He keeps proposing and Brinda keeps turning him down. She says that you and he are really similar in the way you separate your professional and personal lives. In Walter’s case, he leaves his maturity behind at the office.”

“What does she expect from a guy who spent his whole life in school before coming here? And as long as we’re pointing out similarities, it seems that you and your sister both have a thing for younger men.” He held up his hands in mock surrender as Shaina brandished a piece of pastry in a threatening manner. “Watch the suit. The press is going to be at the opening and they may want to take a picture.”

Shaina bit into the sticky bun, pretending that it had been her intent all along. “Eat something,” she told her husband. “You don’t want to go on Paul’s new ride with an empty stomach.”

“I’m late already,” he said, but he still took a corn muffin and twisted off the sugar-glazed top. “Besides, I hear the ride involves magnetic levitation, so the people below me might prefer it if my stomach is empty.”

“Don’t be morbid. You liked the rollercoaster, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, but Joe says that Paul and Jeeves really outdid themselves this time. They combined a ride with a game, and it’s supposed to provide a better flying experience than the Frunge wings sets.”

“I’m just glad Jeeves is keeping busy.” Shaina stopped and took a sip from her coffee before continuing. “Now that we’re only doing the four auctions a year, I know that he was getting pressure from the older Stryx to find something constructive to do with his time. Jeeves says they’re trying to groom him to be some sort of diplomat, and I know he was gone for a few weeks on a negotiating mission. Dring pointed out that the other young Stryx who attend Libby’s experimental school always leave to go traveling after a few years of close contact with human children, but Jeeves is originally from Union Station and he’s attached himself to the McAllisters.”

“Do you think that working in a theme park is a constructive use of time for one of the most powerful sentients the galaxy has ever known?”

“You have to remember that Jeeves isn’t any older than Paul or us, even if he does have instant access to the shared memory of the Stryx and an IQ higher than you can count. Besides, the first-generation Stryx still do all of the heavy lifting. They just want to see their offspring developing in positive directions.”

“I guess I can accept that,” Daniel said, glancing over at their baby boy who was asleep in the bassinet next to Shaina’s chair. “I’ll tell everybody that you wanted to come, but when we called for an InstaSitter, all they had left were spies.”

“Or reporters,” Shaina added, before blowing him a goodbye kiss.

Daniel wasn’t sure exactly what to tell the lift tube after he got in, but then he remembered that Joe had referred to the new attraction as the “Physics Ride,” so he tried that. The capsule moved off smoothly.

“Libby?” Daniel asked out loud.

“Yes, Daniel,” the station librarian responded.

“Any messages related to CoSHC this morning?”

“There were some late booth requests for the trade show which I forwarded to Donna for processing. Two of the new communities you’re bringing in had questions about travel reimbursement from EarthCent Intelligence, which I sent on to Blythe. And there was a request from the Mayor of Floaters to arrange a press conference if possible. He’s bringing a prototype of a two-man sports floater to the conference and they’re hoping to get some free publicity, so I passed that on to Chastity.”

“I’m beginning to think that Donna and her girls basically run things for the humans around here,” the junior consul observed.

The lift tube capsule came to a halt and the door opened without a confirmation or denial from Libby about Daniel’s hypothesis. The deck area was crowded with young humans and aliens, most of them wearing, or in the process of donning, a tight wrap-around over-garment. The unmistakable sound of a fairground organ assaulted his ears, and the white puffs of steam rising from its pipes drew his eyes. He walked over to investigate.

“Morning, Joe,” Daniel yelled over the din. “Where on Earth did you find this thing?”

The owner of Mac’s Bones motioned for the new arrival to step closer. When Daniel came within arm’s reach of Joe, the sound faded into the distance, and the junior consul realized he had entered a personal acoustic suppression field.

“Could you repeat the question?” Joe asked.

“I wondered where on Earth you found this thing.”

“Ohio. Kelly’s parents have taken to antiquing in their old age. Her dad spotted this circus calliope in a barn and thought I might enjoy fixing it up. It took a year’s worth of over-sized diplomatic pouches to get all the parts to us, but the Stryx were good sports about it.”

“They fit the boiler in a diplomatic pouch?”

“These organs are a chore to tune, so I went modern on the boiler to make sure the steam always comes out at the same temperature. That and a few other modifications should keep it happy for weeks at a time.”

“If you say so,” Daniel replied, steeling himself to exit the audio suppression field. “Does it have to be so loud?”

“That’s the whole point of the thing. When they played these at fairs or carnivals back on Earth, you could hear them for miles.”

“Well, it’s a show stopper. I see it even makes its own confetti.”

“Damnation!” Joe swore, diving for the emergency kill switch. An alignment spacer had slipped out of place and the paper roll which acted as a mechanical program for the music was in the process of shredding itself. “You’re in luck,” the frustrated mechanic told the junior consul. “It’s going to take a few hours to modify the feed so this can’t happen again. Tell Paul to have Libby play something.”

“Will do,” Daniel said, setting off to find Paul and Jeeves in the crowd.

“Over here,” Paul yelled, when he spotted Daniel. The proud co-creator of the new theme park attraction was standing on a small platform with Aisha, who carried their recently adopted girl in a baby sling. The baby wore a cute pair of pink ear protectors with a prominently displayed rating of 140 decibels over her little head.

“Hi, Aisha. Paul. Quite a crowd you’ve got here.”

“We’re almost at capacity, but I stashed a levitation suit for you,” Paul said. “Are you ready for the ride of your life?”

“How come you aren’t suiting up?” Daniel asked, accepting the proffered bundle from Paul. “Do I put these on right over my clothes?” he continued, without waiting for an answer to his first question.

“Just pull the flaps over and the magnets will seal everything tight,” Paul said. “There’s a towel on the belt if you need it. I’m not flying today because I’m in charge.”

“I’m not afraid of flying,” Samuel announced, appearing at Daniel’s elbow. “Banger flies all of the time, and he says that it’s just like riding a bicycle.”

“Have you ever ridden a bicycle?” Daniel inquired.

“Of course,” the boy replied. “Grandma sent me one.”

“In the diplomatic pouch,” Aisha added, answering the junior consul’s unasked question. “Shaina must have stayed home with your baby and I don’t blame her. I would never have brought Fenna if Paul hadn’t found her these cute ear protectors.”

“I’m surprised anything short of a suppression field can keep out the sound of those steam whistles.”

“The ear muffs are just a fashion statement,” Paul explained. “That volume of sound would go right through a baby’s skull without a suppression field, so I put a miniature Dollnick generator in the headset. Speaking of which, Joe must have ripped another roll or we’d be yelling to make ourselves heard right now.”

“I know it’s a theme park and all, but does it have to be that loud?” Daniel asked. He finished securing his leggings and moved on to the long-sleeved top. “And Joe said it’s going to be a while to fix whatever went wrong, so you’d better have Libby play something over the station system.”

“The music was actually Dorothy and Mist’s idea,” Paul told the junior consul. “We had them invite some of their friends to serve as beta-testers last week, and we ended up with hundreds of teenagers flying around in here. The girls asked Libby to pipe in some music because they said it was like watching an immersive without the sound. It hadn’t occurred to me that magnetic suspension fields would make the ride so silent, other than the screaming, of course.”

“Well, I’m as ready as I ever will be,” Daniel said, flexing his arms in the garment.

“Pull it all tight,” Paul instructed him. “You want the suit to act as a second skin. And put on the helmet. It’s not just to shield your eyes from spatters and to protect your head from accidental kicks. It also neutralizes the weight of your head.”

“So your neck doesn’t get tired,” Samuel added.

Daniel hesitated a moment, helmet in hand. “I get the bit about accidental kicking or a poke in the eye, but what kind of spatters are we talking about here?”

“That’s from the game part,” Paul told him. “Swimming around in the air is fun, and we’ve got the magnetic fields all tuned so it doesn’t feel that different from being in a pool or an ocean, but that’s not enough to keep kids coming back. I’m going to start bringing up the power now.”

“It’s great exercise,” Aisha told the junior consul. “I’ve been stopping in and swimming for a half-hour before going to the studio. Libby has already agreed to set aside two hours in the early morning on the human clock for grown-ups who just want to fly laps without getting shot at.”

“Shot at?” Daniel suddenly felt light-headed, and then he realized his feet had drifted up off the deck and he was beginning to turn a slow somersault. Samuel flew a small circle around him, doing a modified version of the breast-stroke that his father had taught him a few years earlier on the wastewater treatment deck.

“Put your helmet on,” Paul yelled, just as the deck came alive with the recorded sounds of a calliope from Libby’s library.

Daniel pulled on his helmet, which didn’t do enough to cut down on the blaring carnival music. Then he stretched out his arms and legs like a skydiver, which had the effect of stopping his slow rotation. The feeling was very much like swimming in water, with none of the queasiness associated with weightlessness. The magnetic fields that held him suspended by attracting and repulsing the Verlock-manufactured monopoles threaded into the fabric of the levitation suit supplied both buoyancy and resistance.

Samuel swam right up to the junior consul and went helmet to helmet for acoustic contact. “Where’s your basket?” he asked.

“My what?”

Samuel shook his head in pity and let Daniel examine the device that was tethered to the boy’s wrist by a short cord. It looked like a scoop with a button on the handle, except the mouth was shaped more like a funnel than a can. Oddly enough, there were colored streaks on the inside of the scoop, like the boy had dripped paint into it or something.

A voice that Daniel immediately identified as belonging to Jeeves sounded through speakers integrated in the helmet. “Is everybody ready for the Physics Ride?”

Thousands of voices, the vast majority of them a good decade younger than the junior consul, shouted “Yes.”

Everybody in the crowd who had donned a levitation suit was now swimming through the air around Daniel, making him feel like a member of an undisciplined school of fish. Dispersed through three dimensions, the section of the deck set aside for the ride felt less crowded than it had been when they were all standing on their feet. The young human faces visible behind the face shields were full of anticipation. He couldn’t tell what the Dollnicks or the Frunge were feeling, though he spotted a Drazen holding an extra basket with his tentacle.

“First round, warm-ups,” Jeeves announced. “Five points for a catch. Ten points for a return.”

Daniel checked the standard information channel on his implant but there weren’t any instructions. He realized he must have missed a presentation on the rules by arriving so late, and perhaps there had even been a demonstration. He looked down and saw an unfortunate young woman who had only gotten as far as sealing one side of her leggings when the power came on. That leg was straight up in the air, like she was doing a high-kick, while she struggled to get the rest of the flying suit wrapped around her body.