7
Identity: Jimmy Scadden
The flitterati were already mingling with the foreign diplomats and other people of importance that had arrived at the annual Foreign Banquet. The event was being held on the very apex of the Solomon House complex, atop the farming towers, in the ballroom. The setting sun refracted through the crystalline walls, casting prismatic rays across the crowd. Strains of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons floated across it all from a string quartet playing in the landing of the curved marble entryway. Motes of dust danced in the straining rays of light.
Those are probably smarticles.
I had Samson, my proxxi, walk my body over while I finished some last-minute work at Command, and reaching the entrance, I took back control.
Many of the world’s leaders were in attendance at the banquet, reflecting the growing international significance of Atopia. It was an important opportunity for us to show off on the world stage, and Kesselring had detailed instructions for all of the Council and board members, including that we all show up in the flesh to minimize confusion on the part of our guests.
Someone grabbed my arm as I descended the entry staircase.
“Congratulations, Jimmy!” said an excited Nancy Killiam, resplendent in a shimmering gown of what looked like liquid helium that flowed around her in silvery wisps. She pulled me close to kiss my cheek, the helium pouring silently around us, and put her arm in mine.
“Thanks!” My nomination to the Security Council, by far the youngest ever, earned me the invitation tonight. I liked the attention. “But on the contrary, it should be me who is congratulating you!”
Patricia had given me a heads up on the push to move Infinixx up on the Cognix agenda. Now it was her turn to appear embarrassed.
“No congratulations yet, Jimmy,” she whispered conspiratorially. “That’s supposed to be a secret!”
“No secrets from me,” I whispered back. “And I may be able to help.” Nancy looked at me, about to ask, when I shook my head. “I can’t say now.”
We finished descending the staircase together, arm in arm. Reaching the landing, someone called her name, and she looked away toward them and then back at me. I smiled and nodded her leave to go. With a whoosh, the silvery wisps of her gown disappeared and followed her into the crowd.
I certainly felt her go.
“Drink, sir?” a waiter asked, sweeping up beside me with a golden tray full of champagne flutes. I nodded and took a glass, watching Nancy greet our fellow pssi-kids.
This was definitely our time to shine, and shine we did in our glittery and fanciful skins. I observed some of the guests watching them with wonder. The visitors were still adjusting to the trial pssi system that everyone who came to Atopia had installed. It was a great marketing stunt.
Any technology that was sufficiently advanced seemed like magic to someone unfamiliar, and this place still held a mystical air to the rest of the world.
Kesselring downloaded to Samson a long list of people he wanted me to introduce myself to. Looking around the ballroom, their names and identities popped up in my display spaces, allowing me to pick them out from the crowd.
Many were my counterparts in the armed and security forces, and several of these were from the Indian and Chinese contingents. Atopia was viewed as a neutral territory for these warring sides. Even more important, Atopia was seen—by both sides—as an indispensible part of their economic and technological future.
I sighed, straightening out my new ADF Whites, and wove my way into the crowd.
The event was winding down. In my last discussion, I brought together some senior cyber-espionage officials from both the Indian and Chinese sides at the same time. I was quite certain it wasn’t my diplomatic skills at work so much as everyone’s desire not to be left out. They were hungry for pssi.
I was thinking about leaving when someone poked me with a phantom. It was Commander Strong, standing not ten feet from me. His phantoms dragged me over to him.
“General, Mrs. McInnis, I’d like to introduce you to one of our rising young stars, Mr. Jim Scadden,” he announced as I arrived. I stood straight up at attention, taking Mrs. McInnis’ hand, and then turned to give the general a firm handshake.
“The pleasure is mine.”
Mrs. McInnis took me in. “You’re one of those pssi-kids, right?”
I laughed. “Yes ma’am, one of those.”
“Could you show me something?”
She obviously wanted some kind of carnival trick. The commander was about to excuse me when I took a step back, bowed to Mrs. McInnis, and then theatrically flourished one hand forward to produce a bouquet of red and pink lilies. I handed them to her.
“Oh my goodness,” she declared, her eyes wide.
“Take them,” I offered, “they’re real, or at least, they’ll feel that way to you.”
Mrs. McInnis tentatively reached out and gripped the bouquet at its base. The flowers swayed, and she leaned in and smelled them.
“They smell absolutely lovely!” she exclaimed, her nose in a lily.
“And,” I announced, waving my hand and snapping my fingers, “presto!”
The flowers disappeared in a flash, and a dove fluttered away from where they’d been, startling Mrs. McInnis. It flew up toward the ceiling of the crystal enclosure, leaving a few feathers behind in its desperate flight. We all turned to watch it go.
Mrs. McInnis beamed at me.
“Jimmy is my newest addition to the Security Council,” laughed Rick, raising an eyebrow.
The general smiled at me. “He certainly has a gift with people.”
“That’s absolutely the truth,” added Mrs. McInnis. At that moment, someone leaned in to touch her arm, obviously an old friend.
“Oh, Margie! Did you see that?” said Mrs. McInnis as she turned to the new arrival, who peeled her away from us. “Excuse me, gentlemen.”
We all nodded politely as she left. General McInnis, I could see from research notes that floated into a splinter from Samson, had been Rick’s commanding officer on two tours of duty back in Nanda Devi.
“Synthetic babies may seem odd, sir, but my parents fought so much,” said Rick after a pause. They must have been talking about his proxxids. “I’m just trying to be careful.”
“Could have fooled me,” laughed the general. “That third tour you signed up for was heavy duty. Didn’t strike me as the plan of a man being careful.”
“What I mean is—”
“I know what you mean, son, and I don’t blame you, running away out here. Heck, getting overrun by a squad of five-hundred pound, steroid-raging silverbacks in full battle armor would be enough to make anyone wet their pants.”
Rick straightened up. “With all due respect, sir, I’ve never run away from anything.”
“Maybe you haven’t, but then again, maybe you have.” The general turned to size me up, and I returned his gaze. “Young man, what do you think of these proxxids?”
“I think what Commander Strong is doing is absolutely the best thing,” I replied without hesitation. “We test most things in life before we dive in, so why not test how we’d like our children to be?”
The general looked unconvinced.
“There’s no harm in it,” I added, “and I think he should try it out until he feels comfortable.”
The general considered this, and turned back to Rick. “Coming out here seems a perfect way to start over, Rick. Just really get started is all I’m saying, and don’t pretend, son. All this gimmickry can’t replace the real thing.”
Rick straightened up but said nothing.
“Anyway,” continued the general, slapping him on the shoulder, “I’m just calling it how I see it. I know you must have a lot of glad-handing to do here. I’ll let you get to it.”
He turned to locate his wife.
“Jimmy, nice to meet you, and Rick, all the best,” he said, giving us the tiniest of salutes.
“Very nice to meet you, too, sir,” I said to his retreating figure, earning me a nod as he wound his way through the crowd.
I could see how deeply the issue with Rick’s wife was affecting him, and I had been studying him when the general spoke about Nanda Devi.
“You look just scrumptious!”
Spinning on my heels, champagne in hand, I found a stunning brunette staring at me, her long hair falling in tresses over tanned shoulders. A gossamer dress in abstract floral patterns fluttered around her, barely obscuring an athletic frame underneath. She laughed nervously, watching me smiling at her.
What a lovely—and familiar—smile.
Commander Strong grinned at the two of us, taking a long second look at the brunette.
“I think I’ll leave you to it.” With a wink my way, he was off.
“Those ADF Whites sure look good on you, Jimmy,” said the brunette, glancing at the departing Rick before returning her smile to me. She knew me, but seemed edgy.
I definitely knew her, too, but couldn’t quite place her. I was suppressing my pssi memory, determined to work on exercising my own mind’s memory systems. The more time I spent in my own skin, the more I felt a deep welling of energy seeping outward from within.
Most pssi-kids hardly spent any time at all in their own bodies as they spread their splintered minds ever wider across the multiverse, leading to a loss of neural cohesion between their minds and bodies.
They didn’t care, but I did.
It was almost touching to see this girl had come in her own body, even if she was probably just making a show of it.
But what’s her name?
I smiled as the light dawned.
“Cynthia! It’s been a long time.”
“Since Nancy’s thirteenth birthday party.…” Her voice trailed off, embarrassed.
I liked the way it made her look vulnerable.
“We were kids,” I said finally, letting her off the hook. “I was a bit of an awkward kid. You, you were—”
“I was awful.”
“I was going to say beautiful. Come on, you weren’t awful. It was a weird situation.”
“I was, Jimmy, and I never got a chance to apologize for that. I’m really sorry.”
“Hey, it helped focus me at the time, and look where that got me.” I swept my arm toward all the important-looking dignitaries. “I should be thanking you.”
“I don’t think you should be thanking me.” She frowned, but then the smile returned. “Look at you now, Mr. Jim Scadden. You sure have changed.”
“Oh,” I said, “you have no idea.”
We stood looking at each other, the air electric with anticipation.
“So you call that an apology?” I asked, drawing her in. “That just now?”
She laughed. “My attempt, anyway.”
“I think maybe I need something more substantial, perhaps over dinner.”
“That sounds like a great idea. When?”
“No time like the present,” I said with a wink. Things were done here.
She paused before giving me her answer. “Sure, why not?”
Something inside me growled, and I took her hand, leading her toward the exit.
Life was coming full circle.