Bridget looked at the device in her hands—a light helmet-shaped frame, with embedded sensors, integrated goggles, and headphones. On the coffee table in front of her lay a pair of very techie-looking gloves.
“And what happens when I put this stuff on?” She asked, one eyebrow raised.
“Well, this was the state of the art in video game gear, just before FAITH stomped on that particular industry. Full-immersion VR, or the twenty-first-century version of it, anyway. I found the plans in the libraries, and printed this up.”
“And what happens when I put this stuff on?” Bridget repeated.
“You get to visit me at my place. And get a better look at the Odin wildlife.”
She nodded, slipped on the gloves, and donned the helmet.
And popped into my VR.
I put Manny on standby and returned to VR. I was sitting in my beach chair, grinning at her as she slowly turned to take in the scene. I’d made Bridget’s avatar from images taken when I first met her, and it was an almost physical jolt to see her standing there, young again.
I stood up and walked over. “This is a very limited interface, of course. You can’t fully interact—although you can pick up objects or feel me holding your hands—” I took her hands in mine. “—and you can move around using the game interface.”
“All right. So, show me.”
I activated the videos and data files that I’d accumulated on the native Odin life. Bridget gasped and stared at the images. She walked over to them and began paging and swiping through the data. I felt a moment of pleasure that our user interface was so obviously intuitive. But, of course, the Bobs had been living it and tweaking it for around a hundred years, now.
“I’ve been cataloguing things,” I said. “There’s an incredibly diverse ecosystem. It has plant-equivalents that build organics from sunlight and raw materials; and animals, which eat plants or other animals.”
Bridget took a moment to smile at me, then went back to the videos and files. She muttered constantly, a specialist immersed in her chosen field.
I sat down and watched her work, a glow of joy battling with a vaguely guilty feeling. This wasn’t really about the Odin native life. I could have emailed those files to her. I’d promised Bridget that I wouldn’t hassle her about replication. Well, I was as capable of lawyering as the next person. I couldn’t say anything, but non-verbal persuasions were fair game.
Eventually, Bridget noticed her hands. She stopped, examined them closely. Then she grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled it into view. She turned to me with a hurt look. “Howard, really? This is a dirty trick.”
“Hey, fair’s fair. I’m perpetually thirty-one in here. And that is how I see you. Always will. I’m not trying to be underhanded.”
“You are an evil, evil man. And a lawyer.” Her tone was disapproving, but she couldn’t suppress a small smile.
“But you repeat yourself…”
Bridget laughed, then gestured around her. “And the tropical beach thing is totally coincidental as well, right?”
“Hey, I have to have something. You should see Marvin’s VRs. Now there’s a man with too much time on his hands.”
Bridget gazed at me with an expression that I had trouble categorizing. Amusement? Longing? Affection? At least the hurt look was gone.
“You have a nice world here, Howard. But when I go back to the other one, I’ve still got gray hair.” She waved at the videos. “Those could have been displayed on my wall monitor. I understand your arguments, but this isn’t something I want.” She reached up to her head, and disappeared from VR.
I quickly activated Manny. I ‘woke up’ in Bridget’s living room, standing at parade rest. Bridget was just removing the gloves.
Before I could begin apologizing, she came over and put her arms around me and rested her head on my shoulder. I wrapped her in a hug, and everything else stopped mattering.
The Return
Bill
June 2223
82 Eridani
I was visiting Mack at 82 Eridani. I tried to stay on top of things at the different sites, and to be honest, I needed a break. The Others had just finished ‘harvesting’ the Pav homeworld, and several years of observing their technique hadn’t blunted the emotional turmoil.
I sat in one of Mack’s lawn chairs, blowing on a coffee to cool it down. Turned out Mack liked the ritual involved in cooling the coffee until it was drinkable. I could have just adjusted it, but that would be rude.
Mack took a sip of his own coffee, then continued his report. “Things are looking good. The Canadian colony on Asgard is doing well—much better, now, actually, since the vampire mosquitoes are being brought under control.”
“Super Vampire Power Mosquitoes,” I corrected.
“Mutant Super Vampire Power Mosquitoes,” he quipped. “Honestly, Bill, Original Bob would have run screaming from the place. You remember how our skin reacted to even itty-bitty mosquito bites?”
“Yup. Fine, Nordic skin.” I grinned at him. “Why do you think I haven’t asked for pictures?”
Mack nodded, still grinning. “Anyway, the mosquito killers are one of the more popular pieces of automation in New Vancouver. I just have to say ‘mosquito killers’ and I can get anything approved on the printer schedule.”
“And speaking of inconveniences, how is the Japanese colony doing with their unique problem?”
Mack laughed. “You are, of course, carefully not referring to the elephant in the room? The very stinky elephant?” He waggled his eyebrows. “Or maybe it’s just what the elephant left behind?”
“Yeah, that one,” I said, chuckling. “Seriously, they can’t get used to it?”
“It’s seasonal, Bill, and affected by wind and weather. It turns out to be a common plant in the ubiquitous swamps. Sort of a local version of skunk cabbage, but much more potent.”
“And what are they going to do about it?”
“Nuking has been suggested,” Mack said, deadpan.
“Seriously?”
“I don’t think they were serious, Bill, but it was brought up. I checked it out with the android, once, to see for myself, figuratively speaking. Lemme tell you, it’s bad. I disabled olfactory input after that.”
“So, on a more realistic note, what can they do?”
He shrugged. “Draining the swamps, developing something to kill off the plants, breed a less smelly version of the plants that will outcompete the wild version…and nuking.”
I shook my head. “Don’t get involved. Just…don’t.”
“Works for me.” Mack grinned back. “Anyway, I’m too busy with the space-based industry. Verne collected a lot of raw materials into the Lagrange points, but between two large colonies and all the equipment on Valhalla for the terraforming…” He shrugged. “Yeah, I’m going through it pretty fast. I’ve got drones and roamers flying around the system, looking for more—”
Right in the middle of Mack’s sentence, I found myself back in my own VR. “Guppy, what happened?”
[Interface with other vessel was terminated abruptly. No shutdown handshake.]
What the hell?
I attempted to ping Mack, but got nothing. “Guppy, try every option you have. Try to get any comms going at all with Mack or anything in the area.”