“It was Cordelia’s premise that momentous events must take place for Alex, Renée, and Julien to initiate the strategy,” Oliver explained.
“Let’s see,” Maria said, pretending to focus her thoughts, with a hand on her chin. “What are the odds that those types of events have occurred in the Omnians’ orbit?”
Oliver laughed at Maria’s antics. Few SADEs dedicated their lives to a single individual, but Oliver believed it was his calling to assist such an important person as Maria Gonzalez. She was a critical individual to the well-being of the burgeoning New Terran society. In time, she would receive star services, and he would seek out other formative individuals. That was how he saw his abilities could best be put to use.
“What time is the fleet observing?” Maria asked.
“During the journey from Sol, Hector shifted chronometers daily to orient the passengers and crews to Prima’s cycle,” Oliver replied.
“I’d like to speak to the Omnia Ships’ fearless leaders,” Maria said, grinning.
When Oliver linked with her, Maria felt tingling anticipation. Like her dispenser, the implant was another gift from Alex, and she’d had hers for annuals. Unfortunately, the populace’s adoption of the Méridien technology was slow. Her implant had transformed her world, and she often wondered why New Terrans resisted the tech.
Communications with Oliver were seamless and efficient. However, when she participated in routine meetings with the president or his cabinet ministers, conversation seemed to drag to a near standstill.
<Welcome to New Terra,> Maria sent, when she saw Alex and Renée’s bio IDs and Julien’s comm ID.
<It’s always a unique feeling to return to my home world, Maria,> Alex sent. <How goes the envoy’s work?>
<It’s progressing,> Maria returned. <I’m helping to drag New Terrans kicking and screaming into a technologically more modern future.>
Maria heard Alex and Renée’s chuckles. <Good to hear your voice, Renée, even if it’s to laugh at my poor backward world.>
Renée heard the amusement in Maria’s thought. She took no offense from the tease. <I was just thinking of those early days, Maria.>
<You mean when sophisticated Méridiens were revived from stasis and met our dubious envoy?> Maria sent. It was her turn to laugh.
<I do treasure my early exchanges with Alex,> Julien interjected. <The passengers of the Rêveur and the citizens of New Terra were most fortunate.>
<I often think about those events,> Maria sent, <and I wondered what I would have done in Alex’s boots. Long ago, I came to the conclusion that I wouldn’t have had the skills or the courage to attempt to tether my ship to a hurtling alien derelict.>
<Maria, I’ve been informed that you have a new president,> Alex said.
Maria glanced at Oliver. <If we could only think and communicate as fast as SADEs,> she sent.
<And if we could only feel and intuit as humans do,> Oliver added.
<Tell me about your president,> Alex requested, wishing to keep the conversation on track.
<He’s no Harold Grumley, but that’s not all bad,> Maria sent. <I fear he might have postured as a progressive to position himself against his opponent who was an ultraconservative. However, I believe that underneath the skin that he’s a moderate. Despite his confusing positioning, New Terra desperately needed to stay out of the hands of a xenophobe. Unfortunately, our new president is young and relatively inexperienced.>
Julien shared the election results with Alex and Renée.
<I noticed he didn’t win by a landslide,> Renée commented.
<Julien, I do miss your hats,> Maria commented, knowing that the SADE was deep into New Terran government databases. She laughed when she received an image of Julien in his fedora. It had been captured by Cordelia.
<The president’s opponent was an isolationist,> Julien noted. <Does that mean that New Terrans are still divided on the question of intersystem participation?>
<We’re becoming polarized,> Maria sent. <Slightly more than half of this system desperately wants to embrace the other worlds.>
<Does that include alien worlds?> Renée inquired.
<Absolutely,> Maria replied.
<Julien, demographics,> Alex requested. Instantly, the conference attendees received Julien’s analysis of the voting groups for the two candidates. On sharing, Julien signaled Maria and Oliver to withhold their comments, while Alex and Renée absorbed the data.
<Seems to be across the board in ages and occupations,> Alex commented.
Renée shook her head with a wry smile. She’d barely started to compare the figures, and Alex had already finished his perusal.
<That was the fascinating part of the after-election analysis, Alex,> Maria sent. <No one anticipated the manner in which our society divided itself. We have families, friends, and associates arguing among themselves about New Terra’s future direction.>
<Your Terran Security Forces were employed briefly but in multiple locations,> Julien noted.
<Noisy confrontations and some scuffles, but nothing dangerous,> Oliver sent.
<Why the interest in our president and the election, Alex?> Maria inquired. <Or, more bluntly, why are you here?>
<Sol has volunteered to host a conclave of worlds,> Alex replied.
<I take it that your conclave isn’t exclusive to the human race,> Maria sent. <Who’s coming so far?>
Renée laughed. <You’re our first stop, Maria.>
<Nothing like taking on the most recalcitrant world first,> Maria sent. <You’ll have your hands full with President Thurman. Gerhardt is attempting to delicately walk the lines between the divergent groups of voters, and, as I said, he’s unpracticed. I think he expected some sort of tremendous mandate, and he was severely disappointed by the election’s outcome.>
<What will you propose to the president?> Oliver asked.
<I’m asking each world or group of worlds to send a leader or delegate, accompanied by a SADE, to the conclave,> Alex replied.
Maria created a private connection with Oliver. <Why must a SADE attend the delegate?> she sent.
<I would anticipate a SADE can assist with facilitating conversations and understanding the leaders’ moods,> Oliver returned.
<But SADEs can’t share communications if they’re private,> Maria pointed out.
<Alex approaches the edge of SADE ethics,> Oliver sent. <Julien would have advised him that the SADEs could communicate how the leaders feel about the conclave’s progress and its directions without violating privacy.>
<I wonder how many leaders would know that,> Maria offered to Oliver.
<Unknown, but I would think few,> Oliver replied.
<Alex,> Maria sent, returning to the conference link, <President Thurman doesn’t have a SADE advisor. Most SADEs, who work in New Terran space, are employed by companies, or they operate their own companies.>
<So I’ve just been informed,> Alex sent. <However, I know one experienced individual who has a SADE companion.>
Maria laughed loud and long. Then she sent, <As if I could be tempted to undertake a long journey to visit the humans’ home world and hang out with aliens.>
The audience heard Maria’s longing to take part in a great endeavor that sought to unite worlds.
<Ask our young president to place us on his calendar tomorrow,> Alex requested. <We exited our transit below New Terra. We’ll see Oliver and you at the meeting.>
After the call ended, Oliver regarded his friend. “Maria, regretfully, the president’s schedule is full tomorrow.”
“Is the midday meal booked?” Maria asked.
“No,” Oliver replied, brightening.
“Where was it that his wife said he wished to be able to eat? It was an exclusive club,” Maria queried.
“I’ve located the establishment. It’s called Seclusion. How many individuals do you wish to book?” Oliver inquired.
“Six,” Maria replied.
Oliver was silent for about four minutes. Then he focused on Ma
ria, smiled, and announced, “Done.”
“How?” Maria asked. “That club is supposed to be difficult to get a reservation unless you made them months in advance.”
“I informed the host that Alex Racine’s fleet approached New Terra, and he wished to dine at the club,” Oliver replied with a conspiratorial wink.
“What about the president?” Maria asked.
“I informed the president’s assistant of Alex’s arrival and requested a midday meal meeting with him. Then I added that they would meet at Seclusion. She booked him immediately,” Oliver explained.
“Devious SADE,” Maria remarked.
“And you’re thankful I am,” Oliver retorted.
* * * * *
Alex’s traveler descended toward the planet’s capital, Prima. At his request, he and his companions were early for the appointment with President Thurman.
The pilot was guided by Alex’s coordinates. They overflew the boulevard that led from the old spaceport to the government buildings. The ancient trees still lined the extensive lane. Now grav cars of all sizes flew under the auspices of controllers.
“Look,” Renée remarked. “The roadway has been removed. The boulevard has been planted as a meadow. There are wildflowers everywhere.” She squeezed Alex’s hand, as she surveyed the view from the controller.
The traveler overflew the nearby mountains north of the capital city. The majestic snowcapped mountains were as Alex had last recorded them, decades ago, with his then newly installed implant.
The next destination was a comfortable house buried in the forest. It was the site of the Racine home. Alex’s parents had been too old for the cell gen injections to do them much good. Furthermore, they’d spent too much time in space without the protection from solar winds that modern ships allowed. They’d passed away within months of each other while Alex was fighting Artifice’s forces in the Talus system.
As the traveler hovered over the house, the passengers went silent, and Renée leaned her head against Alex’s substantial shoulder. When Alex’s curiosity was satisfied, he signaled the pilot to head for the restaurant.
Like most new buildings in Prima, retail services occupied the uppermost levels to accommodate their customers. Shoppers or diners landed briefly on the rooftops, disembarked, and grav cars lifted. Then the individuals descended via grav lifts to the floors they required.
Recent arrivals to Seclusion paused at the lift’s entrance to see who occupied the traveler that floated above the roof.
A pair of SADEs leapt through the dropped hatch and landed lightly. Oliver was recognized by the individuals intending to enjoy a midday meal. The other SADE wasn’t.
Oliver helped Maria Gonzalez from the ship, and the waiting patrons realized that something was afoot. Maria had never dined at their lofty establishment. Typically, Seclusion’s club members invited friends or associates to eat with them. However, exceptions were occasionally made for other individuals.
When the next person jumped from the traveler, everything became clear to the club members. The man was a New Terran of immense size.
“Alex Racine,” a woman whispered in awe and admiration.
If the patrons were in doubt of their companion’s identification of Alex, the final passenger to exit the ship, a striking Méridien woman, verified her assumption. The unique pairing of man and woman was known across human worlds.
“Do you think they’re dining alone?” a male patron asked his associates.
“I doubt it. Alex Racine and Maria Gonzalez aren’t likely to frequent a club like this for no reason,” another male patron commented.
The club members watched with interest as the group approached them.
The lift doors were open, and as Alex and his companions swept past the spellbound New Terrans, he said, “Thank you, Sers, for holding the lift for us.”
When no one replied, and Alex and his friends had entered the lift, he added, “Are you coming?” That galvanized the club members into action.
As expected the women crowded around Alex, and the men occupied spaces near Renée.
<Nice to be admired,> Renée sent to Alex.
Seclusion’s host saw a daily parade of New Terran dignitaries, wealthy patrons, and CEOs come through the restaurant’s opulent doors. She greeted them equally, placing a welcoming smile on her face that rarely reached her eyes.
When the restaurant’s doors slid aside, the host was cued via ear comm. She had seen to the seating of the recent arrivals and hurried to greet the new patrons. For the first time in several annuals, she beamed, and it reached her eyes.
“Welcome to Seclusion,” the host said. “We’re pleased that you chose our establishment. Follow me, if you will?”
Deliberately, the Seclusion’s owner, having been informed of his august customers’ reservation had assigned an exclusive table on the restaurant’s mezzanine level. That enabled the host to lead Alex, Maria, and their companions through much of the lower floor to reach the stairs to the upper level.
The establishment’s patrons were treated to a view of the Omnians and the New Terra’s envoy to Omnia. Diners paused to watch the group pass until they disappeared up the stairs.
Julien and Oliver had heard nearly every comment made by the diners. Nothing was worth repeating, and the recordings were quickly deleted.
The host indicated the digital menu output in front of every individual and introduced the human waiter, who would attend them.
“Your concerns are appreciated,” Maria said to the host. “However, you should be aware that everyone seated at this table either has an implant or is a SADE.”
The host was taken aback, and she gazed around the table.
“SADE,” Julien said, partially raising one hand.
“Me too,” Alex added.
The young waiter frowned at the table’s occupants. “Seriously?” he asked. “Him, I believe,” he added, pointing to Julien. “But you two move too much like you’re human.”
“We are,” Renée admitted.
“Thought so,” the waiter said, laughing politely. “Good one.” He glanced at the empty seat, and asked, “Are you waiting for another guest?”
“We are,” Alex said. “Please ask the host to allow President Thurman the same extended tour of the establishment that we received.”
The waiter gave Alex a wide grin, and he left quickly to deliver the news to the host.
“Making a point, are you, Alex and Renée?” Maria asked.
Renée replied, “If New Terrans had widely adopted implants, they could tell the difference between a bio ID and a comm ID. That would especially be true for individuals who worked at a place such as this.”
“Attitudes like that have always made the two of you not as well-liked as you could be by New Terrans,” Maria replied.
“Perhaps, that isn’t our primary concern,” Julien said. “There are greater challenges in the galaxy than worrying why one society prefers xenophobia over racial inclusion.”
Oliver prepared to reply, but a signal from Maria halted his action.
“I don’t disagree with the severity of your challenges,” Maria said. “It just doesn’t make my job any easier.”
“Point taken,” Alex replied. “We’ll behave ourselves with the president.”
8: The Survey
President Thurman’s two-seater grav car landed on the rooftop of the Seclusion’s building. While he should have been focused on the upcoming meeting, he couldn’t help strutting toward the lift doors, as his personal assistant rode the grav car upward. Gerhardt believed attending the exclusive club signaled his arrival at the pinnacle of New Terran society. He was unaware that it was due to a SADE’s machinations.
The president’s entrance and promenade through the restaurant provided a level of attention that rivaled what he’d envisioned. Patrons politely waved and greeted him, and their eyes never left
him as he ascended the stairs.
Upstairs, the host stepped aside, while the table’s occupants stood to welcome the president. Gerhardt truly appreciated his implant, which he’d received about two annuals ago. He’d recorded every moment since descending from his grav car, and he intended to save the vid for the rest of his life.
While engaging in polite conversation, the humans ordered drinks and food.
After their orders were delivered, Alex wasted no time introducing the reason for the meeting. “Sol will be hosting a conclave of worlds within the coming annual,” he said. “We’d like you, President Thurman, and a SADE of your choice to attend.”
“You probably know that I was elected only recently,” Gerhardt replied. “I would find it impossible to be absent from my duties for ... what?”
“About half an annual,” Alex replied.
“That’s much too long,” Gerhardt replied. “Maybe I could attend this conclave in two or three more years.”
“That might place New Terra at a disadvantage,” Alex pointed out.
“For what? To adopt more Omnian technology?” Gerhardt retorted.
“I was thinking about the gates?” Alex replied quietly.
“What gates?” Gerhardt asked, slowly setting his utensil full of food on the plate.
“Alliance space is crowded with domes that utilize quantum-paired gates to instantaneously transport individuals and small loads of equipment and supplies between worlds,” Julien explained.
Gerhardt and Maria stared at the Omnians in amazement, while Oliver queried Julien for information.
When the president regained some modicum of composure, he asked, “Are you intending to connect worlds with these gates?”
“If they wish,” Alex replied. “That’s what the conclave will decide. It’ll be an opportunity for leaders of many diverse worlds to meet.”
“When you say diverse worlds, I’m assuming that this conclave will be limited to human worlds,” Gerhardt said slowly and carefully.