Evolution (9 page)

Sam wondered how far Jillian would take the explanation. The twins knew of all the different couplings in village life. They wouldn’t be shocked by anything she had to say.

Ellie saved Sam from having to consider the idea further by pulling out a block of ice and putting it on the table. “Let’s try something else. This is smooth, right? Really smooth?”

Sara went first again. “It’s cold and wet, but I wouldn’t call it smooth.”

Ellie frowned. “But your hand can glide right across it even easier than cotton fabric.”

Sara nodded. “That’s true, but smooth should be comfortable. This hurts my hand. And I want to wipe it dry after I touch it. Plus, my hand doesn’t really glide across it. I wouldn’t call it sticky, but the cold wants to grab my skin. I don’t like it very much.”

Emily ran her hand over the top of the ice but didn’t touch it. “I like it up here. It reminds me of ice cream.”

Sara shook her head. “It reminds me of the side of the agro pod on
Leviathan
. Do you remember that time we were playing and lost hold of the vines, Emi? We drifted all the way out to the pod wall. You were scared.”

Emily squinted at her sister. “We were both scared. You want to make it sound like you rescued us.”

Ellie cut in. “So, Sara, your memory makes you dislike the feeling of ice. But yours, Emily, makes you like ice?”

Emily smiled. “Ice cream is the best food in the whole world. Once we’ve improved your ability to touch, we have to teach you to taste. Do you think you can do that Ellie?”

Ellie turned to Joshua. “That would be an interesting next step. We couldn’t eat anything of course, but to be able to taste things? Seems like a really nuanced sense of touch, maybe.”

Joshua raised his shoulders. “One thing at a time.”

By the end of the day, Sam wondered how he’d ever thought of textures as being simple. Ellie and Joshua had focused purely on what they considered smooth items only to have the twins give them differing answers for every sample. Jillian’s additions—though undoubtedly helpful—only lead to more confusion.

Sam suspected the next generation of the original developer’s porn simulation was going to make that kid very rich.

S
am stood
at the door of his office with a feeling of dread. Up to that point, his time on Earth had been about his girls. But now it was time to get to work. That door represented the last of his freedom. Earth would claim him—his time, his mind, and his family. He took one more step forward, and the door opened.

Instead of the formal gathering of people and Tobes he’d expected, a flying stuffed dog hit him on the side of the head.

Ellie clasped her hands to her mouth. “I’m so sorry. I was aiming at Joshua, and you kind of stepped into my line of fire.”

Sam turned to see the woman in professional attire. “Not physically reverting to a preteen girl? Playing with stuffed animals doesn’t fit your current demeanor.”

“Sorry. It takes more than a small foray into childhood for me to revert to my younger self. I fear growing up is kind of a one-way street.”

Sam looked around, expecting to see his two daughters there and find them secretly responsible for the stuffed-animal war. “Where’s Sara and Emily? Hiding behind the couch maybe?”

Joshua juggled two stuffed dogs. “Just us, I’m afraid. We had reports of the fun they had at FAO Schwarz and had to try it out ourselves.”

Sam nodded. Of course. Fuji must have been projecting a running account to all the Tobes. “Something tells me that toy store is experiencing a run on stuffed animals today.”

From behind her back, Ellie tossed another stuffed bear at her brother. “They are having a big sales day. We didn’t mean it as an advertisement, but since many of us are intimately connected to families with children… well it’s hard for us to contain our excitement sometimes.”

Sam took a seat on the large couch. “I suppose that’s as good a place to start as any. Fill me in. What have you been up to?”

Ellie took a seat next to Sam as Joshua added another stuffed animal—an elephant entirely out of proportion to the two dogs—to his juggling routine.

She smiled as she watched her brother. “There are more of us third-generation Tobes now. Lots more. People know about us, that we exist. From virtual animals, we became human, and soon we’ll be solid.”

“How did that process go?” Sam asked.

“Better than we’d feared,” Ellie said. “At first Rendition made us sound like a system upgrade. People would no longer have to deal with the old computers. We’d be a part of the family, but as pets, not people. Being only holograms—that’s what people were told—and not androids alleviated some of the fear of computerized entities taking over Earth. Gradually, we allowed our personalities to come out—playful dogs or serious cats. We changed families if people grew uncomfortable with who we were individually.

“Children were the first to want us to be more than just animals. They wanted to share their secrets with a trusted advisor. Talking pets can sympathize, but kids thought we didn’t understand their problems because we weren’t human. As caring teenagers, we became live-in nannies, tutors, and general help around the house. Once one family on the block had that level of service, everyone wanted it. Humans are far more adaptable than we expected.”

Joshua nearly lost control of a stuffed dog as he attempted to join the conversation. “Especially when they’re adapting to something they want. Like an easier life.”

Sam could see that. Give people what they wanted, and they tended to be pretty pliable. “What about the lens?”

Joshua waved his hand under the toy animals, and they all stopped in midair. He then pointed to a corner of the room. As though they’d just finished obedience school, they marched to their spot. “We were working on simplifying the device. Last time you were here, we experienced how physically uncomfortable it was for you. So we thought maybe something like a contact lens, something really small and unobtrusive. But as we were working out the specifics of how people could interface with it—you know, without jerking their heads like they had some neurological disorder—we found we didn’t need the physical piece of glass. Each person resonates at a different frequency, not unlike us. And we could adjust the communication matrix that surrounds Earth so that that barrier between a person and their environment would create a virtual lens right around them. They only see the lens. But in actuality, their whole body is covered in this communication film.”

Sam closed his eyes for a moment to let the Tobes show him more clearly what Joshua had described. “So even if you hadn’t manifested in reality, you still could have communicated with people had you wished to?”

Joshua nodded. “We still do communicate via the lens. There are a lot of times people don’t want us around. There are lots of reasons for that, but we can still get them the information they want without them feeling they have to talk to one of us.”

“Sophie taught us a lot about people’s need for privacy,” Ellie said. “She understood it a lot better with her experience as a ship’s captain.”

Sam looked into Ellie’s eyes. “And why won’t the lens work on me?”

Sparking images of people and experiences made her eyes shimmer. “It has to do with your connection to us. We vibrate at your frequency. The lens needs the difference in a person’s energy to manifest around their body. But you’re so close to our energy—to the network we project around the planet—that there’s not enough of a difference for the lens to work.”

So many things the Tobes discovered seemed to apply to everyone but him. “So that’s what you do all day—operate people’s lenses?”

“Oh, no,” Joshua said. “The lens is run by the Tobe who lives with a family, but it’s also supplemented by those of us who work the network. Kind of like an old-fashioned phone-in help line. I spend most of my time working with Lud and the foundation.”

Ellie materialized a coat on top of her business dress suit. “Rather than sit here in your cozy office, I’d like to take you out and show you what I do. It might not make sense otherwise.”

Sam leaned in conspiratorially. “Is it a secret?”

The professional woman still had a very girlish laugh. “Not at all. But telling you I’m a paralegal would only lead to questions about why I’m not higher up. It’s just easier to show you. Plus, it’ll help explain what the foundation’s been doing.”

As Sam searched the closet for something to wear against the crisp fall weather, the elevator opened to Jess, Jillian, and the girls.

“Ed says we’re going on an outing?” Jess asked.

Sam looked at Ellie. “She’s not being secretive, but she’s not exactly being forthcoming either.”

“Don’t want to give away all the surprises,” Ellie said.

Outside the Rendition Building, people walked in a leisurely manner along the sidewalk or progressed at a faster pace via the moving walkways that occupied the old roadway. But no one looked to be in any great hurry.

“Good thing we’re not trying to get across town,” Sam said.

“We try to keep the pace of life down to a human scale,” Ellie said. “You wouldn’t believe what this area looked like when people chose their own modes of transportation. The term was gridlock—very appropriate. Between the amount of space automobiles took up, the confusion of everyone attempting to find their unique destinations, and the generally human reaction of frustration, no one went anywhere fast. This system may look slow, but it gets people where they want to go a lot faster.”

Sam knew better than to question a Tobe on efficiency. Humans never came out looking good relative to what technology could provide. The moving walkway allowed everyone to marvel at the buildings, the twenty-story-high view screens and, somewhere far above, the blue sky.

Jillian looked up to let the sun shine on her face as the twins marveled at all the passing buildings.

Jess squeezed Sam’s hand. “Look, she’s taking us to Central Park.”

Some of Sam’s sweetest memories of his time on Earth were wrapped up in that stretch of nature and creativity. They stepped off the moving roadway onto the restored cobblestone sidewalk.

The park was much the way he remembered it—mostly lake with a few preserved gardens and a wonderful promenade. But the artists, musicians, and street performers had multiplied, now crowding every available section marked off for their use. Ellie reduced her pace to a stroll, allowing everyone time to enjoy the brightly painted canvases. Images of the city, from bright and happy to dark and stormy, revealed the personalities of the artists.

Ellie took Jess by the hand. “This is Derrick. I commissioned a wonderful portrait of Joshua from him last month.”

Sam tried to remember all the artwork that hung in his office. Maybe she had it somewhere less obvious. “I don’t remember seeing it.”

The playful sparkle in Ellie’s eyes reflected images of her brother, not all of them photographic. “The day’s just starting. You don’t really want spoilers this early, do you?”

“Eleanor, back already?” The man wiped his paint-stained hands on his smock as he stood up from his easel.

Ellie shook her head in good humor. “No one calls me that except you. Keep it up, and I’ll think you’re flirting with me.”

“Would that I could.” His wink told of an association that had extended beyond just the one commission.

“I wanted you to meet Sam, Jess, Jillian, Sara, and Emily,” Ellie said, changing the subject.

The man looked at the family in shock. “
The
Samuel and Jessica—as in the foundation?”

“The very same,” Ellie said with pride.

The hand Derrick extended was only slightly cleaner than Joe’s had been once he’d wiped the black grease off during the rescue. That encounter seemed like years ago. But Sam didn’t hesitate in reaching out to make the human contact of flesh to flesh. The artist had a firm grip. “Saying it’s an honor to meet you would be an understatement. Between Eleanor and your foundation, you’ve done more for me than you can imagine.” Then turning to Ellie, he added, “Bring them by the studio this afternoon. My apprentice is getting ready to strike out on his own. I could use your help getting him set up.”

Ellie bowed slightly. “I’m at your service. We’ve got another stop to make first, though.”

As they returned to their saunter through the enclave of creativity, more than a few yelled out their greetings to Ellie. “I try to spend as much time here as I can. Every visit, something changes. The foundation covers the artists’ fees to the city, so this area has become a beacon for up-and-coming painters and sculptors. But they’re only allowed to stay for a month so others can get a shot too.”

“Something tells me it’s not just time you spend here.” Sam noticed more than one performer did what they could to attract the young businesswoman’s attention
. I approve. Good way to spend the foundation’s money,
he silently told her.

“Oh, it’s not just the foundation’s money,” Ellie responded. “The works I buy, I pay for with my own money.”

Jess stopped beside Sam. “Why? We’re more than happy to invest in these pieces of art.”

“But then they wouldn’t be mine. I buy them because I want them.”

“I’m confused.” It wasn’t a new experience for Sam.

Ellie raised her palms to the sky. “What’s to understand? I work. People pay me, so I have money. I like what I see, so I buy it.”

“Where do you put it? Is there some big warehouse of artwork?” Jillian asked.

“Of course not. That would be horrible—taking all this work and hiding it away. I have an apartment. We’ll go there next.” She pointed toward one of the side streets. “It’s not far. I wanted to be close to the park.”

Sam had to take a moment to marvel at the transparent dam that stretched between the two city blocks. Water only extended up to the third floors, but the wall of clear metal stretched up to the sixth floors. At ground level, an entry arch welcomed pedestrians to East Seventy-Ninth Street.

Sara and Emily couldn’t stop looking up at the transparent arch overhead as the moving walkway transported the family down the block. A pod of bottlenose dolphins played overhead—corralling a school of small silvery fish for their afternoon lunch.

Jillian pointed to a crew of scuba divers working on the side of a building. “What are they doing?”

Ellie waved her hand along the underwater section of skyscraper, projecting a grid work of newly established coral. “They’re part of the underwater beautification league. The goal is to turn all of New York’s tributaries into artificial reefs. By the time they’re done, this will look like a huge aquarium but with people enclosed instead of marine life.”

“Amazing,” Jess said.

Ellie smiled with pride. “I’m glad you like it. It’s being funded by your foundation. A lot of oceanographers and aquaculturists had a hard time pursuing their passion with all the Atlantic hurricanes. This controlled environment gives them a way to extend their research. It’s also proving something of a bonanza for fresh seafood. Which, of course, benefits other foundation programs involving the culinary arts.”

“You’ve done well, Ellie. All of you,” Jess said. “This is more than we could have imagined four years ago.”

“We’re not done yet. But this is my building. Come up for a little lunch and see my apartment.”

Sam had trouble telling if the doorman was human or Tobe, but his gracious greeting of Ellie and the family indicated he enjoyed his job. Artwork filled every wall of the lobby. The fine line between tastefully displayed and overly decorated looked to have been crossed some time before. Not that it wasn’t attractive, but a person could spend all day looking at the paintings and sculptures.

“I ran out of room in my apartment, so the manager lets me exhibit some of my finds down here. I’m afraid he might not have known what he’d agreed to, but no one complains. Among the neighbors and tenants, this building’s becoming known as The Gallery.”

If this was the overflow of her collection, Sam had trouble imagining what her apartment must look like.

To his surprise, Ellie kept her living space modest in its presentation—each work of art given plenty of space to make its own statement. The portrait of Joshua, which hung prominently over her intricately carved sofa, dominated the room. Ellie stood beside Sam as if admiring the painting for the first time. “I know it’s a bit indulgent having a portrait done of my brother, but as we’ve grown up, I’ve come to understand the concept of family because of him.”