For Scott the cabin’s extension, with its solar panelled roof and sliding bay windows, was the next best thing to being outside. The late-October sun streaming through invited him to go out into the hilly vista, still snow free on the last few days of a predicted warm spell. But for now he had to finalize the designs, which had been through the committee appointed by the project’s contractor. The proposed city of Eludi-4 was now before him as a 1:80 scale structure made of light projected from his console. He put his finger on a city-block entrance and it suddenly expanded within the metre frame, then pushed inside to see the bare-bones structure: support struts and buckycarbon nanotube side frame. The committee still had questions about ergonomics, wanting to cut the cost of materials. Scott suggested they use an entirely bottom-up construction process: nano constructors building them from using entirely the planet’s resources. But apparently this standard method contravened a law about sending nanos to alien worlds. The risk was clear: those things could be reprogrammed to any end. He imagined Josh’s mocking laughter at his naiveté. Of course, Scott knew there was politics in this: the protection of profits for the materials manufacturers, and their deal with the financiers. The law was simply a convenience. These considerations alone were a pain, were stifling to his creativity. But now they seemed trivial. He could just go with the recommendation, use an AI to make the required modifications. And his final payment would be in his account. He wouldn’t even need to consult Josh, since his colleague had already submitted his efficiency recommendations.
He closed the projection and went back into the living room. Gerald the cat regarded him warily from the cushion of a reclining chair, as if Scott were still some interloper. Scott put out some food. ‘Gerald, this should keep you going till your mummy gets back. She won’t be long.’ Gerald jumped off the chair and gingerly made towards his food.
Scott headed out, got on his bike with a datatab containing the designs. He didn’t trust the security of the cabin any more, or any net connection: the method he’d normally use.
He walked his bike on to the platform of Banff station. The train was already there, giving plenty of time for him to leave it on the carriage area, but already the compartment had its full complement of bikes and folded minicars. So instead he pushed the ‘memory button’ on the handlebar stem. The bike gave out its usual verbal warning to keep clear. Scott stood back and watched it as its metal frame began to fold up, first at the four hinge points and then the carbon frame collapsed in on itself like an old-style inner tube, and again folding until what was left was a rectangular box, ten by three centimetres deep. On its side, circuitry formed with another touch sensor, which then illuminated to indicate it had finished the process. He placed the bike/box in his backpack just in time for departure. The trains to Vancouver left every half hour. People sometimes took the journey just to experience the Rocky mountains. And with the weather so fine, the train was more crowded than usual; mainly retired folks, some chattering loudly, invigorated by the rushing hills becoming mountains. The train slowed, meandering through valleys at a leisurely 300kph, catering for the sightseers rather than business trips.
Josh would not be expecting him to visit, it was not the usual way; the risk of another disagreement over the final designs was inevitable.
Scott didn’t bother to unpack his bike at Vancouver station; the four kilometre walk would give him time to consider, he thought. Instead it only brought to mind a multitude of worries.
Josh’s house presented dull silver alloy-effect walls, mirrored windows and the standard glass-coated auburn-black solar panel roof, sloping to face the south. Functional, ergonomical, no room for artistic foibles here. The front door was barely visible; from a distance just a rectangular outline, until he got right up close and noticed a mirrored window. This surprised him: he hadn’t had Josh figured for the reclusive type. Perhaps this was a recent modification.
There didn’t appear to be any panel to press or look into. But then he heard a synthesized voice. ‘Your presence has been detected. Please wait until the scanning process is complete.’
After about two minutes, a woman opened the door. He first noticed her medium length slightly messy blonde hair, loose-fitting top and trousers. She looked to be in her late thirties, but you could never tell these days.
‘Hello, Colleena,’ Scott said. ‘I guess you know who I am. Really, I just need to check something with Josh.’
‘Oh, of course,’ she said, slightly hesitantly. ‘You should have let us know, we would’ve prepared---’
‘No, there’s no need to worry. I don’t intend to stay for long.’
‘Please come through.’ He still detected a certain reservation in her voice. And then she said, ‘Josh has … not been too good recently.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,’ Scott said, as he walked into the house.
The interior was not what he expected, the crystalline blue and green triangle patterned wall, absorbing and reflecting sunlight from the front door in a nimbus at either side of him – nothing short of extravagant. Certainly not Josh’s design; Deanna, even with her avant-garde leanings, would not approve.
‘He’s out the back,’ Colleena said. ‘He might be asleep. I’ll just check.’ She went ahead, called out to him.
Scott heard him reply something in a sort of grumbly sound. But Colleena suggested he go through.
In a neatly trimmed garden Josh was sitting back in a recliner chair, not exactly sunbathing with a padded jacket and thick trousers. The glass recessed in an adjoining arm-platform contained a dark amber liquid he guessed was alcoholic. Josh turned to face Scott, he looked like he hadn’t shaved for a couple of days. He said, ‘Good to see you again, Scott. Take a seat.’ He motioned to a nearby plastic chair. ‘I hope it’s good news you bring, could certainly do with some of that now.’ His voice detectably slurred.
‘I’ve brought the designs with me,’ Scott said tentatively.
‘Didn’t she offer you a drink?’ he said, seeming to ignore the previous statement.
‘No, I’m fine. Really. It’s a bit early in the day for me.’
‘Well, it’s never too early for me, not these days.’
‘These days?’
‘Oh come on, Scott, let’s not pretend everything’s fine.’
Scott sat down on the plastic chair. ‘But things aren’t so bad, right? The designs have passed the second stage – just need to be approved.’
‘Sure sure.’ Josh made a dismissive hand gesture. ‘Whatever you think’s best.’
‘So you have your modifications?’
‘Yeah, done my mods, sent them off.’
‘I was going to run by you my suggestions for macro-structures.’
‘Don’t bother. Just do what you think’s best, and the committee’ll make their judgement. They’ll make those designs fit with their criteria, with only a nod of acknowledgement in our direction. After all, we’re just the front men. It’s all about the media perception, right?’
‘That’s cynical, even for you, Josh.’
‘It’s realism, Scott, although I’m not sure exactly what is real any more. Or who is real.’
‘Believe me I know exactly how you feel. There’s been times when I’ve really felt I was losing it, that somehow reality got fucked up – ever since we went to that planet.’
‘So they visited you, too – the men in black? Well, I keep seeing them, they’re watching me – every day. They know everything I do. They think I’m keeping something from them. But I told them all I know.’ He shook his head subtly, and exhaled less so. ‘I’m sorry, buddy, but next time they pester me I’m telling them to go see you for some answers; cos I have a family, you know, and I don’t want them to be dragged into this.’
‘You haven’t told Colleena about them – the spooks?’
‘Well, what was I supposed to say: had a visit from a couple of spooks the other day who work for some secret organisation, who want me to tell them about a man I saw that just appeared on Eludi-4?’
‘It’s like they don’t really exist. I guess that’s why they’re called spooks.’
‘We should go back there.’
‘I’m surprised to hear you say that, after all---’
‘After all it’s done to me, driven me to this stuff?’ He lifted the glass and took a deliberate swig.
‘How do you intend to get a ship?’ Scott asked. ‘Unchartered space flights can cost a bit.’
Josh did a low chuckle. ‘Pay? I’m not going to pay. I’m taking the Farquest – and you’re gonna help me.’
Scott sighed. ‘Josh, I think you should go easy on the booze.’
‘This is not the rantings of a drunken man, Scott. We both know we have to go back there by what ever means.’
‘I should leave now.’
‘Yeah, you go. Back to your cosy life and you’re next Canadian Realtor project. Pretend nothing’s wrong, and maybe you’ll even convince yourself.’
‘Goodbye, Josh.’
Scott hurried out the back gate, his backpack bouncing from the abrupt turns, convinced this visit was a mistake. Everything would have been fine if he’d just sent those designs off.
After about two kilometres along a track that was once a secondary road, he considered using the bike. But there was no hurry for the train; it was still sunny. He continued along but his step faltered when he heard a buzzing from behind. As he turned to its direction the vehicle landed, its silver aerodynamic profile changed to a blunt egg-shape which bounced on the road like a bubble.
‘Damn, I should never have visited,’ Scott muttered to himself as if to affirm his regret.
There was no surprise when the man got out, followed by his burly assistant. The tall one, Standford, removed his wraparound shades. The suit immaculate as before.
‘Nice day to be out walking,’ he said in that formally stiff voice that was a mockery of politeness, a false pleasantry. ‘I should do more of that myself. But much too busy, you see. And you, Scott Alendry, had the freedom of the entire country. And yet you chose to visit your colleague. How uncommon these days. It must have been important.’
‘Not really,’ said Scott, hoping he could hide his nervousness. ‘It was just to discuss the project.’
‘If only that were true. But I strongly suspect you were comparing notes on the unusual happenings on Eludi-4.’
‘What difference would that make to you?’
‘It’s not what difference it makes to me but what difference it makes to the security of this planet.’ He nodded, as if to confirm a suspicion. ‘Loose talk spreads, Scott. The knowledge you possess makes you a liability. I think we will have to remedy that.’
‘What do you mean – remedy?’
‘Please come with us.’
‘No, I refuse.’ He could feel the sweat dripping down his face.
‘Then you give me no choice.’ He aimed something at Scott. An intense pain in his head and then the world seemed to rush away from him.
***