Cyber Dreams 4.7 - A Swim in Space

Hey all! Here's the next installment. I hope you're enjoying Juliet's time on the space cruise. :) This is the last chapter until next Tuesday, when I'll be back to posting normally (Victor of Tucson Tuesday, CD on Wednesday.)

-Plum

Juliet quickly looked away. The startling realization that she’d been caught staring broke her concentration, and she lost her connection to the mysterious bartender. “She caught me staring,” she subvocalized, taking a slow, steadying breath to calm herself; she could feel her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

“Don’t worry. No one can suspect you’re reading their thoughts. Not unless developmental research in psionics is much more common than we’re led to believe.”

“Yeah, somehow I doubt it.” Juliet went back to work on her meal, washing down the salty, fatty food with her beer, and she’d just finished the pint when Len walked over with another frosty glass. “Oof, I forgot I ordered another.” Juliet grinned, feeling a little stupid, at the waiter, her nose numb and a definite buzz brightening her smile.

“Do you still want it?”

“Sure. I’m on vacation, aren’t I?”

“Care for dessert, then?” He grinned and winked, a co-conspirator in her naughty dietary behavior.

“I . . .” Juliet had been about to say she didn’t think she should, but she felt like celebrating. Things had gone much better with the lattice than she’d hoped. “Sure. I feel like something simple but delicious. Any suggestions?”

“The pastry chef has a double chocolate cake that’ll make you want to cry.”

“Double chocolate, huh?” Juliet felt her mouth start to salivate at the idea. “Okay. Let me sip this beer for a little while, then bring me a slice.”

“You got it. Hey, do you know Eve?”

“Eve?”

“The bartender. She thought you were looking at her like you knew her.”

“Oh!” Juliet held a hand over her eyes, visibly cringing with her shoulders. “This is embarrassing. I was looking around the restaurant, and my PAI pointed her nails out to me, so I zoomed in and stared for a minute. I’ve been trying to think of something to do with mine,” Juliet wriggled her plain, unpolished nails, “and told my PAI to be on the lookout for ideas.”

“Hah! The benefits and curses of high-end optics, eh?” Len winked at her, then turned away, “I’ll let her know she can relax; she was trying to remember where you two had met.”

“Thanks.” Juliet leaned back into the booth’s cushions, bringing her cold ale to her lips for a sip. She was glad her lie had come out so smoothly, but she was also bothered by it. Was she becoming a liar?

“That was well done.” Angel’s encouragement didn’t make her feel better.

“Yeah, I guess it’s starting to come with the territory.” With a heavy sigh and a shrug, she let the dour thought fade away and stared out the window, drinking her beer, trying to focus on and enjoy the positives from the day. “It’s annoying,” she subvocalized after a few minutes.

“What’s that?”

“I can’t stop thinking about that bartender’s thoughts, about her saying she just had to ‘knock off an old lady.’ I mean, if she’d been thinking about killing some creepy, crooked politician or corpo exec, I might be able to forget about it.”

“Well, just because she characterized her target as an old lady doesn’t mean the ‘old lady’ is innocent. She could be a ‘crooked’ politician, an executive, a criminal mastermind, or any of a thousand other less-than-innocent types of people. She very well might not be worthy of your interference.”

“Yeah, true. I don’t know why I keep picturing someone’s grandma baking deserts when I think of the words ‘old lady.’ Huh!” Juliet almost laughed aloud as she and Angel exposed her definitive bias when it came to her visualization of “bad guys.” She had a particular type of person she pictured when she imagined villains, and they all looked something like Vikker or Gordon. “Yeah, I guess maybe I’ll try to figure out who her target is, but you’re right; maybe I’ll find that I should just stay out of it.”

“Well, we know where she works and that her name is Eve. I’m sure, with a little digging, we’ll be able to figure things out, especially with your particular . . . gifts.”

“Right. I’ll stop thinking about it for now.” Juliet did just that, forcing herself to enjoy the view, the beer, and, later, the cake Len brought around to her table. After that, with a pleasant buzz lifting her mood, she returned to her room and, as the ship prepared to depart Earth’s gravity well and begin the journey toward Jupiter, she soaked in the tub.

While she floated on her back, looking at video feeds provided by the ship’s external cameras, a thought occurred to her. “Does this ship have a gravity generator?”

“In a sense, yes. However, it’s different from the full generators on the larger human colonies. This ship has a gravity field generator that captures the thrust forces from the ship’s drives and utilizes that energy to power the gravity generation. Even if the drives output more than 1 G of force, the generator disburses the effect through a modified Byre-Garnet inverter that creates a mass of negative energy which alters the curvature of . . .”

“Okay, okay. So, is it another true AI thing? Do we know how it works, exactly?”

“It is, indeed, another true AI thing. Humans have the specifications and the know-how to copy the construction, but much of the underlying theory is lost or at least not publicly available. Only three corporations in the solar system are capable of mimicking the design. They may have full understanding and documentation that doesn’t go beyond their internal networks.”

Juliet let Angel’s pleasant tone soothe her already relaxed mind, and soon she found herself drifting into a doze. It was nice, soaking in the moisturizing bath water, letting her mind drift, not worried about falling asleep and suffering a “true-dream.” Angel’s development of the intracranial cooling device was having a profound effect on her perception of the lattice—she’d always felt like it was something of a knife blade with no handle; if she used it, she was bound to cut herself eventually. More than that, it had hung over her as a sort of nebulous threat. The sudden departure of that lurking threat was a game-changer.

After a while, she climbed out of the warm bath; the tub cycled it, maintaining the water’s heat. After she’d dried off and put on a long t-shirt, she crawled into bed and, though she’d determined to watch the view of the Earth receding in the overhead screen, she was soon fast asleep. No dreams troubled her, at least none she could remember, and she didn’t wake until, according to her AUI, nearly 0800. “Wow! I haven’t slept in that late in months.”

“Your sleep seemed very restful!”

“Please tell me you weren’t monitoring me all night.” Juliet stretched and, with a loud yawn, crawled out of bed.

“Part of me is always aware of you in that regard. Don’t worry, though; I was plenty busy fulfilling my own interests throughout the night. I became curious about who the bartender-assassin’s target might be, so I was studying the ship’s net for clues.”

“Oh yeah?” Juliet went into the bathroom and began to brush her teeth.

“Yes. Unfortunately, the passenger manifest isn’t publicly accessible, but there are some hubs that are open to wireless connections—some of the restaurants and event queues. I connected, and with a little finessing, I managed to get a few lists of names. I cross-referenced those names from public databases through the sat-net—the ship maintains a connection to the Earth, Mars, and Jovian public nets, though with quite a delay.”

“Angel,” Juliet said through her toothpaste foam, “it’s a little early. Can we skip to the punchline?”

“I made a list of ‘elderly,’ female passengers. So far, I have seventy-four names we can check out.”

“Ugh.” Juliet spat into the sink. “We’ll need a different plan. I’m not spending the whole cruise visiting all of the old ladies on this ship. Besides, that term is arbitrary; maybe that bartender is kind of a bitch and considers anyone a few years older than she is to be ‘old.’ You know what I mean?”

“Oh, yes, I see . . .”

“I’m not saying I don’t appreciate your work.” Juliet rinsed her mouth, spat, and then dug through her traveling toiletry bag for deodorant. “I just think we should focus on the known quantity—the bartender.”

“I thought she spooked you off . . .”

“Sure, last night. Next time, I’ll be more careful. We’ll sit closer, and I’ll try to pick up her thoughts again without staring at her.” Juliet went back to her room and got dressed in a plain, red t-shirt and a pair of stretchy, jean-like shorts that left most of her thighs exposed. Then, she slipped on a pair of rubbery, pink, slide-on sandals. She’d bought the shorts and sandals specifically for her time on the cruise liner, expecting to spend quite a bit of time by the pool. She frowned at her needler and its holster lying on the bench beside her pack.

“You’ll look a bit odd with that shoulder holster on over your scant clothing.”

“Scant?” Juliet turned to look in the mirror next to the bedroom door. The shirt was snug, but it covered her just fine. “I mean, it’s appropriate, though, right?”

“If you intend to recreate in the domed area, I would say yes.”

Juliet looked again at the shorts; they exposed a lot of leg but nothing scandalous. She rubbed her palms over her pale, smooth thighs. “At least, thanks to that Grave job, I don’t need to shave my legs.”

“One of the benefits of having all of your hair permanently destroyed by lasers . . .”

“Are you pulling my chain? You know, you advised me to take that job!”

“Did I? I must admit, I don’t think I tried to talk you out of it, but . . .”

“For an AI, you’re awfully good at forgetting certain details.” Juliet chuckled, then started toward the door. “I’ll take my chances unarmed for now. Please guide me to a good breakfast spot, and then someplace I can buy a swimsuit.”

“There’s a highly regarded buffet-style breakfast on the park deck, and several gift and apparel boutiques are nearby.”

“Perfect.” After a brisk walk toward the front of the ship and down several levels via automated stairways, Juliet enjoyed a wonderfully diverse breakfast featuring everything from cold fruit and plant-based yogurts to smoked fish to “eggs rancheros” and tortillas. She was drawn to so many different foods that she had to exert a conscious effort to limit her selection to a single plateful. When she finished, with a slightly distended belly and vaguely guilty feeling, Angel led her to a boutique specializing in swimsuits.

Juliet bought a simple, blue “Sharko” one-piece, pleased by the flexible comfort and quick-drying fabric. The clincher, though, had been the tag that advertised the material as an “antibacterial” weave. “I know it’s gimmicky,” she subvocalized as she left the store, meandering toward the open park near the boutiques, “but if I’m going to be in a big public pool, it gives me a little comfort that, well, part of me will be protected.”

“I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but it isa silly notion. The pool water is treated and tested regularly, and, let’s be honest, most of your body isn’t covered by that suit.”

“Yeah, but some of my most important bits are!”

“You’re aware that your nanites will counteract any sort of common infection you might acquire from even the dirtiest water . . .”

“I know it’s not rational. Let’s drop it, all right? It doesn’t even matter, ‘cause I like the suit regardless!”

“Fair enough.”

There were showers and lockers near the pool, so she changed into her suit, rinsed off, and jumped into the shallow end of the pool. She’d been expecting it to be cold for some reason, so she was pleasantly surprised when it felt almost like she’d plunged into a lukewarm bathtub. When she was underwater, she learned something very cool about her optics: Angel could adjust her vision to account for the distortion of the water, so Juliet could see perfectly clearly while submerged. More than that, the water didn’t sting or bother her eyes in any way. She didn’t know if that was because of the high-quality treatment of the pool or because of her implants, and she was soon far too distracted to worry about asking Angel.

Despite the ship’s trajectory toward Jupiter and the lack of nearby celestial objects, the dome was illuminated and warm like a summer day, and the passengers began to crowd the pool area as the morning dragged on. Juliet spent a lot of time swimming around the big shallow area surrounded by decking, getting used to the water and trying to remember the strokes she’d learned as a kid. She liked swimming underwater, finding she could hold her breath for a long time, longer than she remembered being able to when she was young, likely thanks to all the cardio she’d been doing.

After she’d been swimming for an hour or so, Juliet wound up playing with some young twins—a boy and a girl—tossing bright weighted toys and seeing who could fetch them the fastest. The twins’ parents were nowhere to be found, and when Juliet asked about them, the girl, Simone, told her their father had dropped them off on the way to the casino. At one point, she realized she wasn’t the only one with optics that could adjust for the underwater distortion—a teenage boy lurking by the pool’s edge seemed to be spending an unusual amount of time underwater, facing her way as she played with the kids.

“That boy is perving out on me,” she subvocalized.

“It seems he is spending an inordinate amount of time gazing your way.”

“Simone,” Juliet said, handing her the green weighted ring she’d recovered. “I’m going to go get some exercise. Do you know who that boy is?”

“No.” Simone, barely able to stand with her head above water in the four-foot depth, tilted her head sideways and adjusted the foamy purple optics she’d been wearing.

“Well, why don’t you and Huey go play with those other little kids.” Juliet pointed to a trio of young, brightly-suited children playing in the water near a deck-side juice bar. “I think they’re playing some kind of tag.” Simone looked a little crestfallen, but Juliet pressed on, “Thanks for helping me get used to the water, but I have to go. I’ll be here all the way to Jupiter! See you later?”

“Okay.” Simone nodded, smiling so her plump cheeks pressed into her foamy goggles. “Come on, Huey!”

Juliet waved goodbye, then ducked underwater and, with big, powerful strokes, plunged toward the pool's far edge. She was swimming toward the dome, and as she grew closer and the water’s obscuring effect lessened, she began to note the darkness of space beyond the crystal-clear Diamatex.

The dome was probably a hundred meters from the shallow area, so she had to come up for air long before she reached it. When she did, she started to swim over the surface, practicing her crawl, trying to limit her breaths to every fifth stroke. She passed people on floating rafts, including a lifeguard who sat atop a bright red foam chair. He waved at her as she passed, and Juliet gave him a thumbs up. When she finally got to the deepest part of the pool, right near the edge of the dome, she stopped, treading water, and looked around. Only a few people were out that far, and most were sitting or reclining on inflatable donuts or chairs.

Juliet took a big breath and dove down, swimming deeper and deeper, angling toward the dome. When she stopped, fighting to keep from floating up, she figured she was ten meters underwater, and the blackness of space was right in front of her. It was the strangest feeling, floating there, holding her breath, staring into space. Despite the water around her, she felt like she was swimming through the void. “It’s so weird,” she subvocalized.

“It’s amazing . . .” Angel sounded awed, which always thrilled Juliet; it reminded her of how much an individual Angel had become, how she wasn’t just a program. It made her feel like the world and the universe were full of inexplicable things, and the idea filled her with a sense of hopeful anticipation. As her lungs began to ache for oxygen, Juliet blew her air through her nose and surged upward toward the surface. She was still facing the dome when she came up, so when she breached the surface and took a deep breath, she was surprised to hear a voice behind her.

“Hey,” said the smoky, almost sultry voice. It was a voice she recognized well: the bartender from the night before. Juliet whirled around, wide-eyed. “Oops! Did I startle you?”

“Heh,” Juliet said, her relaxed treading taking on a bit of a desperate feeling, like for some reason, having the bartender there was making it harder to keep her head above water, “thought I was alone out here.”

“Sorry about that. I saw you swimming out here and recognized you from last night. I work in the restaurant where you had dinner. I had this weird feeling—like I knew you. Here.” She pushed the yellow foam kickboard she was holding onto toward Juliet. “Hold onto this with me, so you can relax.”

“What’s your name?” Juliet asked, raising an eyebrow as she grabbed onto the kickboard, sighing mentally at the reduced need for treading.

“I’m Eve Harris. Does it ring a bell?”

“No, I’m afraid not. I’m Lucky.”

“Oh? How so?” Eve was wearing too much make-up for swimming, Juliet mused, as the woman smiled her glossy red lips and arched a perfectly shaped and shadowed brow.

“No, that’s my name. I’m an SOA operative.”

“Huh! Well, I sure would remember someone like that. I guess you just have one of those faces. No chance I could get your non-operative name?”

“No, sorry. I never use it.” Juliet reached up and pulled some damp strands of hair from her face. “So, you work on the ship?”

“That’s right!” Eve shifted closer to the kickboard; it was only about half a meter long, so when she did so, her face came very close to Juliet’s. “I’m a bartender. It’s a pretty great job; I get to enjoy the ship during the morning ‘cause my shift doesn’t usually start until lunchtime.”

“That’s cool.” Juliet forced a smile, staring at Eve’s coffee-colored eyes, noting the deep bands of greenish hues exposed by the bright overhead lighting.

SOA! Oh fuck! SOA! Did Kirby hire this chick? Am I burned?

“Taking the whole cruise?” After hearing her thoughts, Juliet could pick out the strain at the corners of Eve’s eyes; she could see the involuntary crease that kept appearing and fading between them; this woman was worried about something and was struggling to keep a calm demeanor.

“No, not me. I broke the bank to take the first leg to Io Station. I have a gig waiting for me there.”

“Oh, so not working now?”

“No, no.” Juliet smiled and tried to open her mind again.

Maybe it’s all a coincidence. Maybe I’m cool. Do I bail on the job? Zapho, though, Zapho . . .

“Sorry to interrupt your swim, but I was burning with curiosity, and I like swimming out here too. If you come by the restaurant tonight, sit in my section. I’ll give you a discount on your drinks!”

Juliet smiled, but, taking a cue from some less verbose people—Shiro—she’d met, she didn’t respond immediately.

If I don’t do the job, I’m dead meat. If I do it and this chick is watching me, I’m dead meat. Oh, please don’t be working for Kirby. Please don’t be working for Zapho! What if he hired more than me? What if I’m . . . why isn’t she answering me? Did I say something stupid?

“Are you good, Eve?” Juliet reached over the top of the foamy board and grasped the other woman’s damp, cold, blue-painted fingers. “You seem like you’re really stressed out. Is there something I can help you with?”

“I . . .” Eve pulled her fingers loose and then let go of the board. “I just remembered I have to get my uniforms from the cleaner! Sorry, Lucky! Keep the board.” With that, she launched herself backward, performing a near-perfect backstroke as she motored out of the deep part of the pool.

“That was bold of you . . .”

“I was hearing her thoughts! It seemed so much easier than usual; I hardly had to concentrate.”

“What did you hear?”

“Some more names. One of them was kinda unique—see what you can dig up about anyone named Zapho. We’ll have dinner at the Stargazer Lounge tonight.”