Showing posts with label Kaleem. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kaleem. Show all posts

Monday, 31 July 2023

Babel: Kaleem

 


The last scene from Elder Joshran Kemnat’s Life Celebration presentation faded from the huge screen which had been erected in the Peace Park. Kaleem Kennedy-Bagarin’s left leg had gone to sleep. Because of the heat, they’d been advised to sit for this part of the elder’s switch-off ceremony. Of course, they’d all had to stand while the reposant was administered and while Elder Joshran’s friends and relations said good-bye in private, and while the old man became unconscious and died. The presentation though had been fascinating. That was why Kaleem’s leg had gone to sleep. He had sat without moving for the two hours of interviews and reminiscences. No wonder the man had been chosen as an elder. He had been so clever and kind.

Kaleem tried to stand on his leg. It gave way, making him tumble back down to the ground.

Pins and needles shot through as the blood gradually made its way back to his toes.

Other people around him were now making their way towards the transport decks. Kaleem started to hobble along with them. He didn’t rate his chances of getting a transporter though. Apart from which, he was not sure where he was going. There seemed little point in going back to his grandparents’ apartment. They wouldn’t be back for ages. He didn’t fancy doing any work. He’d been at a bit of a loss since he had come back from his parents’ attachment ceremony on Zandra. He couldn’t settle to anything. Terrestra and Zandra were trading steadily now. That was all running smoothly. They didn’t really need him any more.

His leg started working properly again. He kept up with the rest of the crowd as they made their way towards the nearest exit from the park.

He suddenly remembered that this was where he had first seen Razjosh. Here in this very park. Razjosh had been an old man, even then. Now, he was almost as old as Joshran Kemnat.

Kaleem stopped walking, suddenly feeling nauseous. That meant that it would soon be Razjosh’s turn. Kaleem had never been to a switch-off ceremony, so he’d never known what happened in the private part where the departant was given the reposant and then drifted into a final sleep. Before today, he’d never seen even the public part of the ceremony. It had always been something he’d rather not think about. Of course, not every ceremony was as well attended as Joshran Kemnat’s had been, not even for an elder. Kemnat had just been so popular. But was this going to happen to Razjosh soon?

Then he had another thought, even more awful. If Razjosh was going to face switch-off soon, that would mean that he would become the only Peace Child. One day, he would be an elder too. And he would have no-one to show him the way any more. What if he pretended to be learning very slowly? Then they would have to keep the elder around for a little longer. No, Razjosh would see through that.

The nausea became even greater. Kaleem was sure he was going to throw up any second now. The bile rose into his mouth and his stomach retched. He felt hot and dizzy. He couldn’t stop the foul fluid coming up into his mouth, burning his gut and his mouth on the way. He heaved and spat the evil-tasting liquid all over the ground, making an ugly stain. Even getting rid of all that unwanted material from his stomach didn’t relieve the uncomfortable physical feeling, nor did it take away the horrible thought. Razjosh, to be switched off? No more Razjosh. He retched again, but there was nothing left in his stomach to come out.

He wiped his mouth and looked around. Good that no one had seen him. This would not do. Not out in public. It would cause a panic. They’d think he’d got Starlight again. That was ironic! He was probably the last person on Terrestra who would get it. The antibodies in his system were really strong. He was 100% immune to it now.

There was a bench nearby. Kaleem staggered over towards it. He was shaking now. He bent his head so that it was touching his knees. Then he put the fingers of his left hand on the pressure point on his right wrist as they’d shown him on Zandra. After five minutes, he changed his hand over so that the fingers from his right hand were resting on his left wrist. The nausea gradually went away. He sat upright. He had stopped shaking.

The crowd was thinning out. He would set off in a minute or two. He was still not sure where. He did think for a moment of visiting the cave apartment he used to share with his mother, but then realized that it would still be locked up. Then he thought of Pierre LaFontaine. His apartment was not too far from here either. But somehow he didn’t feel like being with just one person. He preferred the idea of a crowd tonight. Somewhere where he could just listen and only had to join in the conversation if he really wanted to. Besides, there was no guarantee that Pierre would be in.

He decided to go to the underground New Laguna Bar. “New”. That was a funny name for it. It was over twenty years old. It still worked the same way it always had. People of his age often came here. And it was where his parents had first met.

In just twenty minutes he managed to walk to the entrance of the New Laguna. It then took the lift ten minutes to get down because it was so deep within the old cave system.

It was disappointingly empty when he got there. A single barman was on duty and someone who looked just a little older than him propping up the bar. At least the barman was a human being, though, not a droid. He also seemed to be only a little older than Kaleem.

“Hi there,” said the barman. “What can I get you?”

“Wheat and rye, please,” said Kaleem. It was the nearest drink in taste to the Zandrian frega which he now preferred to Terrestran nectar. He found most of the juices here on Terrestra too sweet. This one was sort of savoury.

“Coming up sir,” said the barman. He was staring at Kaleem.

He’s asking himself if he knows me, thought Kaleem. And he can’t quite think where from. He caught sight of his reflection in the veriglass mirror behind the bar. That had been a real smart idea of his grandmother’s, dying his hair black. Not only did it make him look more Terrestran, it stopped people recognizing him straight away as the famous Peace Child. The different coloured hair put people off the trail for a while, but there might still be something recognizable.

Yes, his grandmother, Louish Kennedy, was pretty smart. Why hadn’t he thought of that himself? It would have stopped him looking so different from other Terrestrans back when he’d lived in the cave apartment.

The barman continued to stare as he poured the drink.

“Not many people in tonight, then, are there?” said Kaleem.

“No, it’s because of the switch-off, I guess,” said the barman. “People don’t think they should enjoy a drink on the day somebody’s switched off. A sort of sign of respect.”

Oh, here I go again, thought Kaleem. Doing it different from everybody else. The one time I come to a bar is the one time everybody else stays home.

“Yeah,” said Kaleem, “but I wouldn’t have thought that people our age would be so bothered about a switch-off.”

The bar man shrugged his shoulders. “Probably not. Their olds might be, though.”

That was it, then, Kaleem guessed.

It was quite good, living with his grandparents. They wouldn’t dare try and pin him down. Not after what he’d been through, and anyway, they were just so glad to have him and Marijam, his mother, back in their lives after she had gone and disappeared into the Z Zone all those years ago.

“Anyway, everybody liked him,” the barman continued. “Even our lot. Wonder who’ll they pick for the next one?”

Of course, that was where Louish and Frazier Kennedy were tonight. As Frazier was still Head of Education, they had been invited to the wake for the Elder of Education and Culture. The process of choosing the next elder would start at the same party.

The barman disappeared into the room at the back of the bar. Kaleem took a sip of his wheat and rye nectar. It was still too sweet really, but it was helping to quench his thirst.

“You must be as bad as me. We must be as hard-hearted as each other,” said a voice behind him. “Drinking when there’s just been a switch-off. Not the done thing.”

Kaleem turned to see who was speaking.

There was something familiar about this young man’s distinctively long face. Kaleem could not quite work out where he knew him from though. Before he had time to dwell on that, the stranger started speaking.

“I know you from somewhere, don’t I?” he asked Kaleem.

Kaleem hesitated.

The stranger shook his head. “Mmm?” he said.

Oh, what the heck. It was not exactly going to cause a riot. People were really more interested in what he had done than in him, anyway. Most people still found him a bit freakish, despite the new hair colour.

“Imagine it blond?” he said pointing to his head.

The thin-faced man frowned even deeper now. “Yeah, definitely. Just can’t quite place you though,” he said shaking his head.

“Zandra, acorns, vaccine, Starlight Racers…” Kaleem continued.

“Yes! Peace Child… Kal… er?”

“Kaleem Kennedy-Bagarin or Malkendy, take your pick,” said Kaleem offering the stranger a Zandrian handshake.

The other man laughed.

“How do you…?”

“You just slot your hand into my fingers like that,” he said, guiding the man’s hand into his open fingers.

“That’s interesting,” he said. “Much friendlier than ours.”

“Yeah,” said Kaleem. Then he frowned. “But look, I know you as well, from somewhere.”

“Did you watch the ceremony today?” asked the stranger.

Kaleem nodded.

“Imagine ceremonial robes, then,” the stranger continued.

Kaleem nodded again. “You were the guy who…?”

“Yeah, that was me. I’m Ben Alki Mazrouth, master of switch-off ceremonies. Because I’ve got a long face and I’m generally so skinny, just like a skeleton, I always do the dark bit. They say I look the part.” Ben Alki grimaced.

Kaleem laughed. Suddenly he wanted to know more. A lot more. “What actually happens,” he asked, “in that bit we don’t watch. I mean, what’s it like, when they actually, you know…?”

“Not pretty,” replied Ben Alki. “Not much to it though really. They’ve usually been so heavily sedated – the departants – for days really, and then a bit more so on the day, so they don’t really notice much. It’s a wonder they’re with-it enough to give out their gifts. No. It’s the relatives and close friends you feel sorry for. They really get stressed. Even those you’d think were pretty near to switch-off themselves and have seen it all before.”

Ben-Ali stopped speaking suddenly and stared at the wall behind the bar. He took a sip of his nectar.

Kaleem looked down at his wheat and rye. No he couldn’t bear to touch it. It was too sweet and he felt nauseous again. This was going to happen to Razjosh soon. In several more years’ time, this would happen to Marijam and Nazaret if they decided to live on Terrestra. He would still be relatively young himself then. Eventually, it would happen to him. Oddly, that did not bother him so much. He would not have to watch it, and as Ben Alki said, he would hardly be conscious.

He thought about the two other times when he had been drugged. Both times, he had fallen asleep instantly – oh, and he’d had that dream of course. Then he’d woken up several hours later and felt more or less all right.

Switch-off would be different. He wouldn’t wake up from that.

Ben Alki suddenly tipped his beaker of nectar back and drank it all in one go.

“Can I get you another drink?” Ben Alki asked Kaleem.

“No thanks,” said Kaleem. “I’m still okay.” He pointed to the almost full glass of wheat and rye.

The barman had not come back.

“Any-one serving round here?” Ben Alki called.

Kaleem noticed the impatience in his voice. Perhaps it’s his work, he thought.

A droid marched into the space behind the bar. Presumably, the barman had gone off duty or else was still doing some work in the back room.

“May I be of help, sir?” asked the electronic voice.

“Yes please,” said Ben Alki. “Rose and orange water, and make it a double.”

The droid busied itself getting the drink. Kaleem winced. Rose and orange water was the sickliest of all the nectars. A double, after the single Ben Alki had already drunk so quickly was bound to have an effect – probably not an altogether good one.

Ben Alki turned and grinned at him. “It’s okay,” he said. “I can take it. I’m used to it. You need this with the job I’ve got.”

“Mmm,” murmured Kaleem. He wasn’t sure.

“I bet you wonder why I do it,” said Ben Alki.

“Well, yes, actually…” replied Kaleem.

“It’s easy,” said Ben Alki. “I can’t be bothered to study to do anything else. The pay’s good here. Really good if you think about how gross it is. It’s the best solution for me.”

That’s true, thought Kaleem. He’s got a point there. In fact, it was the only unpleasant task a human might be expected to do. Robots and droids did all the menial things – fixing broken machines, cleaning out the sewers and dealing with the rubbish. But most humans would shy away from conducting a switch-off ceremony because it was so horrible. Almost as horrible as having to issue the reposant or having to laser and mulch the corpse.

“Actually,” Ben Alki continued, waving his tumbler at the droid, “it’s quite good at the moment. Less to do. The Starlight disease has done some of our work for us. They’re also allowing people another five years.” His words were beginning to slur. A shadow passed across his face. “Ah, but it’ll all get frantic again in a couple of years,” he said, “especially ’cos of your work. Getting them acorns to Zandra, so’s we can have some vaccine in exchange.” He hiccoughed. He grinned. “’Salright,” he said. “You’re a good egg.” He turned towards the droid that was standing motionless in front of him. “More’n I can say for you, sunshine.” He slammed his tumbler down on the counter.

“Sir will not be permitted any more nectar,” said the droid. Its automatic response had set in: Ben Alki Mazrouth would be receiving no more nectar today. He was a little over the limit already.

“Are you okay?” started Kaleem. “Would you like me…?”

Ben Alki stopped him before he could finish.

“No, it’s fine,” he said, suddenly sounding quite sober again. He looked directly at the droid. “Call me up a transporter.” He turned to Kaleem. “Just a pity she wasn’t here.”

“Who’s she?” asked Kaleem.

“Sophia,” replied Ben Alki. He slid off the hoverstool and walked towards the door in an absolutely straight line. Whatever effect the nectar had had, it was wearing off rapidly. He turned in the doorway and grinned at Kaleem.

“Come and watch some time,” he said. “There’s an observation room. They can’t see you.” He waved and then disappeared through the doorway.

Thursday, 23 January 2020

Babel Kaleem



The last scene from Elder Joshran Kemnat’s Life Celebration presentation faded from the huge screen which had been erected in the Peace Park. Kaleem Kennedy-Bagarin’s left leg had gone to sleep. Because of the heat, they’d been advised to sit for this part of the elder’s switch-off ceremony. Of course, they’d all had to stand while the reposant was administered and while his friends and relations said good-bye in private, and while the old man became unconscious and died. The presentation though had been fascinating. That was why Kaleem’s leg had gone to sleep. He had sat without moving for the two hours of interviews and reminiscences. No wonder the man had been chosen as an elder. He had been so clever and kind.
Kaleem tried to stand on his leg. It gave way, making him tumble back down to the ground.
Pins and needles shot through as the blood gradually made its way back to his toes.
Other people around him were now making their way towards the transport decks.  Kaleem started to hobble along with them. He didn’t rate his chances of getting a transporter though. Apart from which, he was not sure where he was going. There seemed little point in going back to his grandparents’ apartment. They wouldn’t be back for ages. He didn’t fancy doing any work. He’d been at a bit of a loss since he had come back from his parents’ attachment ceremony on Zandra. He couldn’t settle to anything. Terrestra and Zandra were trading steadily now. That was all running smoothly. They didn’t really need him any more.
His leg started working properly again. He kept up with the rest of the crowd as they made their way towards the nearest exit from the park.
He suddenly remembered that was where he had first seen Razjosh. Here in this very park. Razjosh had been an old man, even then.  Now, he was almost as old as Joshran Kemnat.
Kaleem stopped walking, suddenly feeling nauseous. That meant that it would soon be Razjosh’s turn. Kaleem had never been to a switch-off ceremony before, so he’d never known what happened in the private part where the departant was given the reposant and then drifted into a final sleep. Before today, he’d never seen even the public part of the ceremony. It had always been something he’d rather not think about. Of course, not every ceremony was as well attended as Joshran Kemnat’s had been, not even for an elder. Kemnat had just been so popular. But was this going to happen to Razjosh soon?
Then he had another thought, even more awful. If Razjosh was going to face switch-off soon, then that would mean that he would become the only Peace Child. One day, he would be an elder too. And he would have no-one to show him the way any more. What if he pretended to be learning very slowly? Then they would have to keep the elder around for a little longer. No, Razjosh would see through that.
The nausea became even greater. Kaleem was sure he was going to throw up any second now. The bile rose into his mouth and his stomach retched. He felt hot and dizzy. He couldn’t stop the foul fluid coming up into his mouth, burning his gut and his mouth on the way. He heaved and spat out the evil-tasting liquid which spattered all over the ground, making an ugly stain.  Even getting rid of all that unwanted material from his stomach didn’t relieve the uncomfortable physical feeling, nor did it take away the horrible thought. Razjosh, to be switched off? No more Razjosh. He retched again, but there was nothing left in his stomach to come out.
He wiped his mouth and looked round. Good that no one had seen him. This would not do. Not out in public. It would cause a panic. They’d think he’d got Starlight again. That was ironic! He was probably the last person on Terrestra who would get it. The antibodies in his system were really strong. He was 100% immune to it now.
There was a bench nearby. Kaleem staggered over towards it. He was shaking now. He bent his head so that it was touching his knees. Then he put the fingers of his left hand on the pressure point on his right wrist how they’d showed him on Zandra. After five minutes he changed his hand over so that the fingers from his right hand were resting on his left wrist. The nausea gradually went away. He sat upright. He had stopped shaking.
The crowd was thinning out. He would set off in a minute or two. He was still not sure where. He did think for a moment of visiting the cave apartment he used to share with his mother, but then realized that it would still be locked up. Then he thought of Pierre LaFontaine. His apartment was not too far from here either. But somehow he didn’t feel like being with just one person. He preferred the idea of a crowd tonight. Somewhere where he could just listen and only had to join in the conversation if he really wanted to. Besides, there was no guarantee that Pierre would be in.
He decided to go to the New Laguna Bar. “New” . That was a funny name for it. It was over twenty years old, and underground. It still worked the same way it always had.  People of his age often came here.  And it was where his parents had first met.
In just twenty minutes he managed to walk to the entrance to the New Laguna. It then took the lift ten minutes to get down because it was built so deep within the old cave system.
It was disappointingly empty when he got there. A single barman was on duty and someone who looked just a little older than him propping up the bar. At least the barman was a human being, though, and not a droid. He also seemed to be only a little older than Kaleem. 
“Hi there,” said the barman. “What can I get you?”
“Wheat and rye, please,” said Kaleem. It was the nearest in taste to the Zandrian frega which he now preferred to Terrestran nectar. He found most of the juices here too sweet. This one was sort of savoury.
“Coming up sir,” said the barman. He was staring at Kaleem.
He’s asking himself if he knows me, thought Kaleem. And he can’t quite think from where. He caught sight of his reflection in the veriglass mirror behind the bar. That had been a real smart idea of his grandmother’s, dying his hair black. Not only did it make him look more Terrestran, it stopped people recognizing him straight away as the famous Peace Child. The different coloured hair put people off the trail for a while, but there might still be something recognizable.
Yes, his grandmother, Louish Kennedy, was pretty smart. Why hadn’t he thought of that himself? It would have stopped him looking so different from other Terrestrans back when he’d lived in the cave apartment.  
The bar man continued to stare as he poured the drink.
“Not many people in tonight, then, are there?” said Kaleem.
“No, it’s because of the switch-off, I guess,” said the barman. “People don’t think they should enjoy a drink on the day somebody’s switched off. A sort of sign of respect.”
Oh, here I go again, though Kaleem. Doing it different from everybody else. The one time I come to a bar is the one time everybody else stays home.
“Yeah,” said Kaleem, “but I wouldn’t have thought that people our age would be so bothered about a switch-off.”
The bar man shrugged his shoulders. “Probably not. Their olds might be, though.”
That was it, then, Kaleem guessed.
It was quite good, living with his grandparents. They wouldn’t dare try and pin him down. Not after what he’d been through, and anyway, they were just so glad to have him and Marijam, his mother, back in their lives after she had gone and disappeared into the Z Zone all those years ago. 
“Anyway, everybody liked him,” the bar man continued. “Even our lot. Wonder who’ll they pick for the next one?”
Of course, that was where Louish and Frazier Kennedy were tonight. As Frazier was still head of education, they had been invited to the wake for the elder of education and culture. The process of choosing the next elder would start at the same party.
The barman disappeared into the room at the back of the bar. Kaleem took a sip of his wheat and rye nectar. It was still too sweet really, but it was helping to quench his thirst.
“You must be as bad as me. We must be as hard-hearted as each other,” said a voice behind him. “Drinking when there’s just been a switch-off. Not the done thing.”
Kaleem turned to see who was speaking.
There was something familiar about the young man with a distinctively long face. Kaleem could not quite work out where he knew him from though. Before he had time to dwell on that, the stranger started speaking. 
 “I know you from somewhere, don’t I?” he asked Kaleem.
Kaleem hesitated.
The stranger shook his head. “Mmm?” he said.
Oh what the heck. It was not exactly going to cause a riot. People were really more interested in what he had done than in him, anyway. Most people still found him a bit freakish, despite the new hair colour.
“Imagine it blond?” he said pointing to his head.
The thin-faced man frowned even deeper now. “Yeah, definitely. Just can’t quite place you though,” he said shaking his head. 
“Zandra, acorns, vaccine, Starlight Racers….”  Kaleem continued.
“Yes! Peace Child … Kal . er?”
“Kaleem Kennedy-Bagarin or Malkendy, take your pick,” said Kaleem offering the stranger a Zandrian handshake.
The other man laughed.
“How do you…?”
“You just slot your hand into my fingers like that,” he said, guiding the man’s hand into his open fingers.
“That’s interesting,” he said. “Much friendlier than ours.”
“Yeah,” said Kaleem. Then he frowned. “But look, I know you as well, from somewhere.”
“Did you watch the ceremony today?” asked the stranger.
Kaleem nodded.
“Imagine ceremonial robes, then,” the stranger continued.
Kaleem nodded again. “You were the guy who …?”
“Yeah, that was me. I’m Ben Alki Mazrouth, master of switch-off ceremonies. Because I’ve got a long face and I’m generally so skinny, just like a skeleton, I always do the dark bit. They say I look the part. ” Ben Alki pulled a long face.  
Kaleem laughed. Suddenly he wanted to know more. A lot more. “What actually happens,” he asked, “in that bit we don’t watch. I mean, what’s it like, when they actually, you know…”
“Not pretty,” replied Ben Alki. “Not much to it though really. They’ve usually been so heavily sedated- the departants - for days really, and then a bit more so on the day, so they don’t really notice much. It’s a wonder they’re with-it enough to give out their gifts. No. It’s the relatives and close friends you feel sorry for. They really get stressed. Even those you’d think were pretty near to switch-off themselves and have seen it all before.”
Ben-Ali stopped speaking suddenly and stared at the wall behind the bar. He took a sip of his nectar.
Kaleem looked down at his wheat and rye. No he couldn’t bear to touch it. It was too sweet and he felt nauseous again. This was going to happen to Razjosh soon. In several more years’ time, this would happen to Marijam and Nazaret if they decided to live on Terrestra. He would still be relatively young himself then. Eventually, it would happen to him. Oddly, that did not bother him so much. He would not have to watch it, and as Ben Alki said, he would hardly be conscious.
He thought about the two other times when he had been drugged. Both times, he had fallen asleep instantly – oh, and he’d had that dream of course. Then he’d woken up several hours later and felt more or less all right.
Switch-off would be different. He wouldn’t wake up from that.
Ben Alki suddenly tipped his beaker of nectar back and drank it all in one go.
“Can I get you another drink?” he said to Kaleem.
“No thanks,” said Kaleem. “I’m still okay.” He pointed to the almost full glass of wheat and rye.
The barman had not come back.
“Any-one serving round here?” Ben Alki called.
Kaleem noticed the impatience in his voice. Perhaps it’s his work, he thought.
A droid marched into the space behind the bar. Presumably, the barman had gone off duty or else was still doing some work in the back room.
“May I be of help sir?” asked the electronic voice.
“Yes please,” said Ben Alki. “A rose and orange water. And make it a double.”
The droid busied itself getting the drink. Kaleem winced. Rose and orange water was the sickliest of all the nectars. A double, after the single Ben Alki had already drunk so quickly was bound to have an effect – probably a not altogether good one.
Ben Alki turned and grinned at him. “It’s okay,” he said. “I can take it. I’m used to it. You need this with the job I’ve got.”
“Mmm,” murmured Kaleem. He wasn’t sure.
“I bet you wonder why I do it,” said Ben Alki.
“Well, yes, actually ….,” replied Kaleem.
“It’s easy,” said Ben Alki. “I can’t be bothered to study to do anything else. The pay’s good here. Really good if you think about how gross it is. It’s the best solution for me.”
That’s true, thought Kaleem. He’s got a point there. In fact, it was the only unpleasant  task a human might be expected to do. Robots and droids did all the menial things – fixing broken machines, cleaning out the sewers and dealing with the rubbish. But most humans would shy away from conducting a switch-off ceremony because it was so horrible. Almost as horrible as having to issue the reposant or having to laser and mulch the corpse.    
“Actually,” Ben Alki continued, waving his tumbler at the droid, “it’s quite good at the moment. Less to do. The Starlight disease has done some of our work for us. They’re also allowing them another five years.” His words were beginning to slur. A shadow passed across his face. “Ah, but it’ll all get frantic again in a couple of years,” he said, “especially ‘cos of your work. Getting them acorns to Zandra, so’s we can have some vaccine in exchange.”  He hiccoughed. He grinned. “S’alright,” he said. “You’re a good egg.” He turned towards the droid that was standing motionless in front of him. “More’n I can say for you, sunshine.” He slammed his tumbler down on the counter.
“Sir will not be permitted any more nectar,” said the droid. Its automatic response had set in: Ben Alki Mazrouth would be receiving no more nectar today. He was a little over the limit already.
“Are you okay?” started Kaleem. “Would you like me…?”
Ben Alki stopped him before he could finish.
“No, it’s fine,” he said, suddenly sounding quite sober again. He looked directly at the droid. “Call me up a transporter.” He turned to Kaleem. “Just a pity she wasn’t here.”
“Who’s she?” asked Kaleem.
“Sophia,” replied Ben Alki. He slid off the hoverstool and walked towards the door in an absolute straight line. Whatever effect the nectar had had, it was wearing off rapidly. He turned in the doorway and grinned at Kaleem.
“Come and watch some time,” he said. “There’s an observation room. They can’t see you.” He waved and then disappeared through the doorway.

Thursday, 31 March 2016

The Tower Zandra



Gengis Hall 231 was just like any other meet venue that Kaleem had been in – either here on Zandra or on Terrestra. Boring, but particularly so when your meet partner was running late. Kaleem stared at the holoscene which showed through the window. At least it was convincing. You really felt as if you were looking at a view through a window, just like you might on Terrestra. It was storied from a real place: one of the infant forests, complete with bluebells, ice-bells and all the rest, one of the very forests that his father was working on.
He gets everywhere, thought Kaleem. He wished Edmundson would hurry up. He needed to find out what he wanted. He was beginning to imagine all sorts.
The dataserve whirred into life. Edmundson’s face appeared on the screen.
“Listen Kennedy,” he said. “I’m going to be another fifteen minutes at least. Load the stuff about acorn and vaccine exchange. You tell me what those statistics mean.”
“Of course,” said Kaleem.
Edmundson was still not giving anything away.   
The screen blanked over before Edmundson said goodbye. In fact, Kaleem, supposed, he probably hadn’t said goodbye. Edmundson never wasted time on superfluous words.  Before he even thought about what he’d been asked to do, the screen suddenly started showing the Supercraft at London Harbour and Zandra Dock 1. He was now watching similar scenes to the ones he’d seen yesterday. He didn’t bother, though, this time asking for the Figurescript version of the statistics. He was fairly certain that Edmundson couldn’t read Figurescript.
It was quite mesmerising listening to the robotic voiceover. “Day 116 3520, acorns imported 7500, vaccine exported 5679. Viability in package from day 116 3519 96%. Vaccine to date 97% effective. Forecast for new needs, Day 118 3520, 17,000 acorns, 18,644 doses of vaccine. Forecast for reciprocal needs met Day 220 3527…”
Goodness, if I ever can’t sleep, thought Kaleem, I’ll load some of this stuff up.
It struck him as he watched the split screen picture of London Harbour and Zandra Dock 1 that although Zandrian droids and Supercraft were not quite the same, there was more the same about them than different. The Supercraft were more or less the same shape and had the entrances in exactly the same places, the droids were the same height and walked in the normal slightly stiff manner and the metal containers being loaded at either end were exactly the same size, colour and shape, but the Zandrian ones had a green cross on them to show that they held medication and the Terrestrans had green hexagons to show that they contained plant life.
“Do you see what’s missing?” a voice behind him asked.
Kaleem jumped.
He turned to face Don Edmundson. The man was even scarier in the flesh than he was usually on screen. There was absolutely no expression on his face at all.
Kaleem shook his head. He just couldn’t think with Edmundson staring at him like that. 
“Doesn’t it strike you as odd that there are no people around?”
Kaleem looked back at the screen. Well there were people, but only a very few. Most of the work was being done by the droids.
“I mean, getting on and off the Supercraft,” said Edmundson.
“Forecast daily rate for this lunar period,” the robotic voiceover droned on.
“Fine, we know,” said Edmundson, looking pointedly at the dataserve screen.
The screen went blank immediately and the serve itself gave a final bleep.
Edmundson nodded to Kaleem that he should sit down and took one of the not-so comfisessels himself.
“Everything is going according to plan,” said Edmundson, “as far as acorns and vaccine are concerned. But another part of the bargain was a greater connection between the people of Zandra and Terrestra. I don’t see it happening.”  
“What do you mean exactly?” asked Kaleem.
“I mean that we need people, Terrestrans, to come to Zandra now. And we need to get Zandrians on Terrestra.”
Yes. Of course. Kaleem had known that all along. In fact that had even been his excuse for coming here. Or that was what he had told everyone including his parents and his grandparents: he was here on a Peace Child mission. He had to oversee the first visits to Zandra from Terrestrans and then increase the number of visitors from Terrestra to Zandra. There had been just a few – himself, his mother and the small team that had come across on the first mission to Zandra in search of the vaccine against the Starlight Racer disease. If he was honest, though, he had really come here to get away from Rozia and everything associated with her.
“Well? said Edmundson. “Do you have any concrete plans yet?”
“No,” said Kaleem. “You can imagine how carefully we have to tread with Terrestrans.”
“I don’t have to imagine,” replied Edmundson quickly. “It’s all too obvious. It was part of the original agreement that an exchange of persons as well as materials would actually take place. You and your mother are hardly enough. And besides, that is not an exchange: there are no Zandrians on Terrestra.”
Kaleem knew he was absolutely right. He would have to do something and soon. He would probably have to ask Razjosh for ideas.
“I suggest,” Edmundson continued, “a person exchange. Six people go from here to Terrestra, and meet with six Terrestran delegates. They travel back to Zandra with our people. Not too much to ask is it, just for a start?”
No, it wasn’t. But Kaleem knew he would be pushed to find six. Maybe Pierre and Stuart. Razjosh was too old really and probably wouldn’t count as he’d been before. Rozia, he knew, would come like a shot. He daren’t ask her, though. He wouldn’t be able to cope with her being there. Not now that she was with Julien. Abel and Kevik – but they were too busy in the Z Zone. Saratina maybe? But how would they react to her here? No, he shouldn’t think like that.
“Well?” asked Edmundson.
“It sounds reasonable,” said Kaleem. Reasonable but almost impossible.
“Good,” said Edmundson. “I’ll get Emmerline to show you the ideas we’d had.”
Kaleem shuddered. Edmundson’s secretary droid was famous. It was always difficult to remember that she wasn’t a real woman. She was so life-like and always carried so much authority. But of course, not being human she never tired.
The door swished open and in she came. Only the slightest jerkiness in her movements and the data that started streaming across the screen as she moved into the room gave away that she was a droid and not a sexy young woman. She moved her hips as she walked and her long straight blond hair flowed behind her as she moved. She was connecting directly with the dataserve, though. Soon images flickered and flashed making Kaleem blink. So, she was a droid after all.
“Data download is now complete,” said Emmerline. The voice was astoundingly human. No way was she a droid. Why was Edmundson the only one to have something as sophisticated as this? She tossed her sleek hair back and smiled at Kaleem and Edmundson. 
“Talk him through it,” said Edmundson.
“Yes, certainly.  A delegation of about six persons should go to Terrestra. Kaleem should help decide who. They should have a diplomatic tour, stay in a good hotel but also have direct contact with Normal Zoners and of at least one in the newly integrating Z Zone. They should have ample opportunity to sample Terrestran food…”
“What would you know about that?” whispered Kaleem. Droids didn’t need food – well at least not the same sort that humans needed.
“It’s a most important part of human life,” said Emmerline, staring at him. The pupils on her artificial eyes widened as if she was trying to take more of him in.
Great elders, she was scary. The scariest female that Kaleem had ever met… not that she was really female, he reminded himself. She was just a machine.
“Essential, in fact,” continued Emmerline. “Fundamental. And also extremely puzzling why food is so much better here on Zandra than on Terrestra where you have better raw materials.”
Kaleem had to concede that one. And he had no idea how they did it either.
“Naturally, we would also like to learn more about your diastics systems,” continued Emmerline. “My searches reveal the following academics may be able to give advice.”
Movie clips of Terrestran scientists showed for a few seconds each on the screen.
And to think all you need is microchips and some good programming, thought Kaleem.
“We would also like to arrange a discussion between the delegates and a committee made up of heads of service and elders. And yourself of course.” She flashed Kaleem another smile. She flicked her hair out of her eyes and her pupils grew even larger as if she were flirting with him.
For a few seconds Kaleem was almost convinced that she really was human and that it was just some trick of Edmundson’s and a female friend of his. Edmundson seemed to be finding it all extremely amusing.
“Show him the timetable,” he said to the droid. It was clear he could hardly keep his face straight. 
A chart immediately appeared on the data screen.
“These show the timings,” said Emmerline. “Red is for food discussion, blue for investigation of scientific matters, yellow for social activities and purple for further negotiation of the peace.”
Now Kaleem wanted to giggle. This was just too much. It was much too precise.
Edmundson suddenly looked stern.
“Stand-by,” he ordered Emmerline. “You see, she really is a droid.”
“No, no,” said Kaleem. “I just found it all too neat and tidy. You can’t do things that quickly.”
“Hmm,” said Edmundson. “But it ought to be a lot more focussed than you’re making it.” He turned back to the droid. “Continue,” he commanded. “Show Terrestrans on Zandra.”
A movie clip loaded on to the screen. Kaleem gasped. There were Pierre, Stuart, Saratina, Rozia, Sandi Depra and Ben Alki. They were here, on Zandra, looking at one of the oak plantations. Of course, why hadn’t he thought of those two? 
“It‘s all right,” said Edmundson. “She can read your mind.”
“But I never thought of Ben Alki or Sandi Depra,” Kaleem murmured.
“Good, isn’t she?” continued Edmundson. “She can even read your subconscious mind.” He was grinning.
Here we go, thought Kaleem. Another mission impossible.
The droid whispered something to Edmundson. The executive’s face went pale.
“Really? He said. He turned to Kaleem. “I’d get home as soon as possible if I were you. You don’t want to be caught here with me with what might be about to happen.” What was he talking about?
“Go on, I mean it,” said Edmundson, his face now red. “Skedaddle.”
Kaleem could see that he meant business. He set off home.