A Designing Woman 6 for #wewriwar

More from the Steampunk book

Welcome to Weekend Writing Warriors.  This is a sample from my latest work in progress, “A Designing Woman”, and I hope you enjoy it.  This is the start of the next chapter and introduces more of the family. Continuing from last week, this snippet describes conversations between Amanda’s parents. Dark things are afoot, especially now that they understand her hobby, which they have tolerated, could be worth real money.
(The Last snippet)



That’s true; Do you think she’d like to visit Bath?”
Only to see the ironworks.”
That’s not helpful.”
While she was away, I could do something about her workshop, maybe. She’s not twenty-one is she?”

No,” Lady Caterham smiled, “So as her father you’re her legal guardian; your word is the one that counts, isn’t it?”
Get her to Bath, and I’ll deal with the rest; have to check with my solicitor, but I should be able to sell out her share of that company. It should pay for her dowry.”
Lady Caterham replied, “George, love, I knew there was a reason I married you.”
Her husband, realizing he was dismissed for the night, dutifully kissed his wife and returned to his port.


This is a work in progress. Here is the link on tablo. It’s also on writeon, but I have no clue how to link there. Apparently Steampunk implies Victorian, Dieselpunk the 1920’s. What-punk should a Regency period book be? Horse-punk isn’t right.

Despite being told in no uncertain terms that “steampunk” meant Victorian with ubiquitous steam technology, I’m calling this steampunk, although given the amount of time they will later spend on the river, maybe “Steampunt” is better. Amanda is working on what will become the defining technology of the 19th century, steam. Although, a few things, like the Napoleonic war will get in the way.

Google Blogger has gone back to making things difficult. Arghhh – doesn’t play well with firefox and privacy badger.

Time to look at wordpress. It’s being funny on Linux which takes some doing.

Thank you for reading. The heroine’s family thinks they’re doing the right thing by her. Ha! She doesn’t get to the Bath ironworks, but if it’s any consolation, she gets to do a small amount of smithing in the village of Philadelphia so that she isn’t compromised by staying the night with a totally unsuitable suitor.

A teaser. #amwriting #romance #scifi


A Teaser.

This is the start of my latest WIP. It’s a steampunk space opera set in Dartmoor in the summer of 1893. There’s a reason I can be that specific, but you’ll have to wait for later to see it. It starts with the heroine arriving at her Uncle’s house. Her family hopes the fresh air and clean environment will help slow the progression of the consumption that is carrying her off.
Consumption it is, but not in the way that is usually meant.
 (c) 2015  Amelia Treader.

Uncle Sylvester Receives a Visitor.

It was nearly dark when the pony-trap carrying Elizabeth from the station at Moreton Hampstead finally arrived at the farm at Barnecourt. Venus, the evening star, shown brightly in the dull orange band of the western sky. She presaged a clear and starry night. Nobody noticed when she winked out and fell to Earth with a quick bright streak of light. George Trent, Dr. Standfast’s man-of-all-work, drove the trap to the front of a small farmhouse in the country not far from the isolated village of North Bovey on the outskirts of Dartmoor.
After stopping, he gently awakened his sleeping passenger, “Miss James? We’re here.”
Elizabeth James, a slight young woman, dark haired and pale, with the gentle slight cough of incipient consumption, stirred. Her parents had arranged for her to visit her uncle. He lived and practised in the country, and they all hoped that the fresh air would suit her lungs better than the stale smutty air of London. They had waved goodbye as she boarded a train in Paddington in the morning, her first step in the longest journey of her life. London, to Bristol, to Exeter, and then on the stopping train to the end of the line at Moreton Hampstead. There she was met by her uncle’s servant with a one-horse trap, and now, finally, she awoke in front of his house.
“We’re here?”
“Yes, Miss. Let me tie the horse and I’ll help you down.”
The clatter of their arrival brought Dr. Standfast to the door. Unusually tall, thin and surprisingly active for his sixty years, he shot out of the door and said, “Elizabeth! You’ve made it at last. How was your trip?”
Elizabeth replied, “Tiring.”
“I can see that, but are you feeling well. At least as well as can be?”
She gave a slight cough, and then said, “I think so.”
The cough made her uncle frown, “We’ll see what we can do about your cough.”
“If you can do anything, Uncle Standfast, it will be more than the doctors on Harley Street could.”
Her uncle walked to the trap and offered a hand to help her down, “You should call me Sylvester. Uncle Sylvester if you must. We’ll see, but I’m sure the fresh air and clean water of Dartmoor will help.”

A Designing Woman 1 for #wewriwa

More from the Proto-steampunk book

Welcome to Weekend Writing Warriors.  This is a sample from my latest work in progress, “A Designing Woman”, and I hope you enjoy it. Mr. Williams has come for a visit, the day after the assembly, and is waiting in the library. Like most libraries of the time, it was more for show than reading. He’s found his way to Amanda’ corner and is strangely interested in what he finds.


Instead of the unused order that characterized the rest of the library, he came to a section that was in active chaos. He picked up one book that was lying open, face down, and read, “Principles of Mechanics.” He frowned at the equations it contained. Then he smiled to himself and put it back. A disorderly stack of pages was tucked into a corner of the room nearby. They were full of drawings and calculations; all were done in a fine feminine hand.
He paged through the sheets and studied Amanda’s work. As he gazed with interest at a calculation of the optimum size for a piston, he was interrupted from behind.
“That’s my daughter’s trash. I try to remind her to be tidy.”

This is a work in progress. Here are links on tablo and authonomy.  Apparently Steampunk implies Victorian, Dieselpunk the 1920’s. What-punk should a Regency period book be? Horse-punk isn’t right.

Google’s being dashed odd – the only way I can reply to comments is to edit the post. Oh well, there’s always wordpress.

I’m calling this proto-steampunk simply because I was told in no uncertain terms that “steampunk” meant Victorian with ubiquitous steam technology. Amanda’s working before that and during the Regency, so it cannot be steampunk.

Incoming. Extract from my next one. Steam and Secrets?

The weekend warrior post is here

This is a regency-punk? work set in 1809. It combines steam, ciphers, codebreaking, and espionage, with a chase and sweet romance. Still working on a title.  I’ve just crossed the 50K barrier, so it’s approaching the intensive edit stage.

In any case I’d love to hear what you think.

Lady Caterham’s Difficult Daughter.

“Amanda Jane Elizabeth Grace, what have you done to yourself?” Lady Caterham wailed at her daughter. “You’re covered in grease, and we must leave for the assembly in an hour.” Amanda stood in the doorway of Lady Caterham’s room, awaiting instructions from her mother. Lady Caterham sat at her dressing table while she gave instructions to her daughter. Lady Caterham’s maid was waiting to put the finishing touches on her mistresses’ gown and hair while Lady Caterham dressed down her slovenly daughter.
“I was just repacking the bearings. We don’t want the wheels to fall off our carriage, do we? The roller bearings Sam and I put together turn so much easier than the old wooden axle, and I think you’ll like the way we’ve sprung the box. It-.”
“And that’s another thing young lady. Playing around with machines. Why, look at those hands. Even if Mary can clean the grime from under your nails, what man would look twice at you with those hands?”
“There’s more to life than men, mother.”
“No there isn’t, at least not for a young lady of refinement like yourself. Do you want to die an old maid, alone and forgotten?”
“No, not as such. It’s just. Well. Oh dash it Mother, the man for me won’t be upset with a little grease and the odd broken nail.”
“One more thing young lady, watch your language. Where did you ever pick up such an expression? Keeping company with that blacksmith?”
“Oh no Mother. Sam is very polite. At least when I’m present. Ask Mary about him if you want confirmation. It’s Freddy and his friends, when they come in from the hunt, who use such expressions. I thought.”
Lady Caterham spat out, “You don’t think. That’s the problem.”
“I do. If my brother can say it, and far worse, then it’s suitable language.”
“Suitable for a man that is. Now go, get cleaned up. We must not be too late for the assembly. Not if you want a dance.”
“Yes, Mother.”
Lady Caterham ignored the tone of that last remark and watched as her eldest daughter, a striking, tall, auburn-haired young woman walked off to change into the dress of a refined and cultured young lady.
“My Lady,” Millicent, her maid, pointed out, “Miss Amanda will have no trouble attracting male attention. She’s a fine looking young woman. As you were at her age.”
“That’s true, but she’d look so much better without that black grease streak covering her forehead and staining her hair, or that house-dress. It’s just so torn and patched, stained with who knows what, and covered in grease. How can she stand to wear it?”
“I don’t know Ma’am, but she’ll be presentable, even elegant. Mary will see to it.”
“I’m sure she will, but I so wish Amanda would focus on the important things in life. Like marriage, men and children. Get her head out of the clouds.”
“Or the steam, Ma’am. I’ve heard that the 20th regiment is stationed nearby. There should be plenty of fine young men, officers in their red-coats. That should catch her eye and turn her thoughts in the right direction.”
Lady Caterham thought for a few moments and then replied, “I hope so. Although last time, she ended up talking all night to an engineering officer from the artillery. A nobody, who was a captain just because he’d been to school at the Royal Military Academy in Woolwich and knew how to move guns and build fortifications. It would have been better to leave her home. What’s the point of going to the assemblies if you don’t flirt with eligible men?”
Much to Lady Caterham’s relief, and fully justifying the expense of hiring her, Mary turned Amanda out dressed in the proper mode of a young lady. The grease was gone from her face and her auburn hair was immaculate, as were her muslins. She wore a simple string of pearls, suitable for a young woman venturing into the wilds of society. While no amount of cleaning could restore her hands and nails to the pristine state that was so important in a fashionable young woman, she would be wearing gloves. They would hide most of the damage. One did not hold hands without something between you and the young man.
Amanda did nothing that spoiled Lady Caterham’s trip. While she may have cast an eye over the bearings, axles and springs, she didn’t stop to play with them. Indeed, without the squeaks, the jarring and the shaking normal in a carriage, Lady Caterham arrived at the assembly in a remarkably refreshed state. When they arrived at the assembly, one of the officers, a captain, swept Amanda away. He led her onto the dance floor for the first country dance of the evening. All in all, it made for an outstanding start to the evening.
The vicar’s wife, Mrs. Peabody, addressed Lady Caterham, while she and the other mothers watched their daughters perform the figures on the floor. “Lady Caterham, I know you suffer in the carriage rides and I was planning to offer to chaperone your daughter, but it looks like you’re well. Did you find a cure for the travel sickness? I only ask because I suffer too.”
Despite her misgivings about Amanda’s mechanical interests, Lady Caterham’s bosom swelled with pride as she said, “It was Amanda’s doing. She redid the springs and the axles on our carriage. It was such a smooth and quiet ride that I barely noticed we were moving.”
“She did? I must say, she is a clever girl.”
“And see, she’s dancing with.” Lady Caterham stopped, “Who is that?”
“Oh, that’s Captain Williams’ cousin. He’s studying divinity, at Oxford.”
“A suitable connection?”
“Absolutely, quite nearly related to the Fairfax’s. They say he will inherit a sizable income. With his family connections, he’s bound to become a bishop.”
Lady Caterham smiled at Mrs. Peabody. “In other words, a connection to be encouraged. I do so hope Amanda will find something other than machines to tinker with.”
“I agree, a husband and children will soon put her head straight. Settle her down.”
Their happy optimism about Amanda’s prospects would have been tempered had they been able to hear her conversation with the young man. While good looking with blue eyes, dark hair and a firm visage, able to dance the figures with a natural athletic grace, polite, educated and well mannered, he was also a serious disappointment.
“Mr. Williams, you’re studying divinity?”
“A suitable study for a gentleman, honorable and in the service of both man and God.”
“If you say so, but with a chance to meet Dalton or Henry or Davy or,” and here Amanda gave a frisson of excitement, “Even Faraday. You have the chance to study natural philosophy with such masters, and you choose divinity.”
“What’s wrong with divinity?”
“Nothing, except.”
“Except what?”
“It’s so commonplace. I’d cut off my right arm to study with any one of those men and you’re just wasting the opportunity.”
Mr. Williams was nonplussed. Unable to think of anything witty, eventually he replied, “Please don’t do that. You have a pretty, indeed beautiful right arm. It wouldn’t look right, replaced with a hook.”
Amanda smiled back and laughed as she said, “I didn’t mean it literally, but I’d kill someone for the chance you have and are throwing away.”
“Please don’t do that either. I suppose I could try law.”
Amanda’s grimace suggested that option was, if anything, even less appealing than divinity.
“In my defense, none of the masters you mentioned are fellows at Oxford.”
“Still, there must be someone.”
Despite her misgivings about divinity students, Amanda couldn’t help feeling disappointed when the dance drew to a close and it was time for the supper break. Mr. Williams bowed and returned to his cousin’s company, while she found her mother.
Lady Caterham’s interests and hopes were peaked, and she asked, “So, Amanda, what did you think of him? He has real prospects.”
“About Mr. Williams?”
“Who else?”
“He seems a nice enough man. Although I wish he were doing something with his education. Something worthwhile.”
“Damning me with faint praise?” It was Mr. Williams. He had walked up behind them and was carrying two cups of punch. “Miss Caterham, I thought you could use this, after your exertions on the dance floor, and with the crush.”
Amanda blushed at his attention, then curtsied, accepted the punch from him and said “Thank you. I didn’t mean to disparage you.” Her mother beamed at Mr. Williams, but fortunately showed her good sense and stayed silent.
He replied, “You didn’t say anything that you hadn’t told me to my face. It is true, divinity is dull work, but I never had much aptitude for natural philosophy.”
Lady Caterham loudly whispered, cautioning her daughter, “Amanda, behave. Watch that tongue of yours.” Mr. Williams did not fail to notice Amanda rolling her eyes at the admonishment, nor that she kept smiling at him.
He added, “It may be a liberty, but could I ask for a third dance? That is if you are free.”
“She accepts,” Lady Caterham injected.
“Mother, please. That is so fast, to dance three dances with the same man. What about my reputation?”
“What harm can there be when the man is so obviously moral. When do you take orders, Mr. Williams?”
“Early next year, when I finish my studies at Oxford. Miss Caterham, if you would rather not dance with me, I’d be disappointed but willing to release my claim.”
“No, no, I didn’t mean that. Yes, I’d love to dance with you again. Please. Even two more times.”
“Twice more is excessive,” Lady Caterham added.
When the next dance started, another country dance that would let the participants converse between the figures, Mr. Williams asked, “So Amanda, why are you so interested in natural philosophy?”
Amanda blushed, “Not philosophy, engines, power, steam. Ever since I saw Trevithick’s engine in London, I’ve wanted to build one of my own.”
“Indeed? Tell me about it. Have you made much progress?”
“Well, I don’t have any engines, right now. Sam and I are building another one. It will be a corker.”
“Sam?”
“Mr. Perkins, my maid’s husband, a blacksmith.”
“So not a rival.”
Amanda laughed, “Good Lord, no.”
“Good. So if you don’t have an engine, what else are you interested in?”
Amanda paused until the next chance to talk, and then replied, “Bearings, bearings and springs.”
“Bearings?”
“I want to go fast, very fast, so quickly that the axles would smoke and the wheels fall off with a regular carriage. Sam and I can build the engine and the gears, but need a carriage that will handle the power.”
“I suppose your family approves?”
“What they don’t know won’t hurt them.”
“If you say so, Miss Caterham, but I’ve found keeping secrets leads one into sticky situations.”
“What do you know of secrets? Studying for the clergy, I’d assume you lived a tame life.”
Mr. Williams stopped, stunned that she would shoot so near the mark, interrupting the dance figure for a few seconds. “More than I can tell you.” Then he quickly resumed the dance.
Amanda was piqued, “So you have a secret, or are you just offering me a nut to crack open as a puzzle?”
“I hope you’ll find the meat at the heart of this nut to your liking.”
“Are you trying to flirt with me?”
“Yes. Trying, not succeeding.”
“If you’re like most men I’ve met it’s just a conker, hard on the outside, bitter and inedible on the inside. What brings you to the wilds of Sodbury?’
“That I can answer directly. I’m on a repairing lease. Been burning the candle at both ends too long at the ‘varsity.”
“Daily Compline and Evensong too much for you?”
“One might say that.”
“From what my brother Frederick says, it’s probably the all-night drinking and parties on the Cherwell.”
Mr. Williams smiled at her, which she took for confirmation. Then he added, “It’s the all-nighter’s in any case. I was told to rest, and leave off it until I recovered.”
“Have you recovered?”
“I’ve made great strides. Dancing with beautiful women helps immensely.”
The music ended. Mr. Williams and Amanda bowed to each other. Good manners dictated that she dance with other partners. For some reason the officers who were available and willing seemed curiously flat. Good dancers, elegantly mannered, but deficient in conversation.
The evening ended well, at least the dancing did. Partway back to Caterham hall, when the carriage went over a steep bump, there was snap. It was followed by a gentle hiss and the box leaned to the right.
Lady Caterham was startled, “What was that?”
“One of the seals broke. Blast.”
“Amanda! What did I tell you about your language.”
“I’m sorry. It’s just Sam and I put such a lot of effort into building the springs. To have one fail so quickly. It’s highly annoying.”
‘”I just wish, Amanda, that you would pay attention to the important things in life, marriage and men.”
“Mother.”

Noir upon Noir. More of my latest.

  A couple more chapters from my work in progress.
Circuits.
I had the car drop me off a block away from my apartment building. There wasn’t anyone obviously watching so I slouched up and entered the lobby door. When I reached my apartment I noticed that the sliver I’d left jammed in the frame had moved. That meant company. The scent of perfume suggested Paul’s wife had found his copy of my key. Failing that, since her perfume was cheap and fairly common, it meant some other broad was waiting for me. I didn’t feel up to entertaining company so I slipped out the fire escape and walked off. I needed to think, without the interruptions that would have accompanied my return. Even if it was just Celine. Especially if it was just Celine. I could have dealt with normal thuggery more easily than overblown hysterics.
The main streets would be covered with snooping eyes, but I could hear the distinctive low buzz of a drone. That meant the alleys were out. Better to act normally, and hope you were missed than to attract attention by looking like a common house thief.
So I strolled out onto 12th street. If the police stopped me, I could be looking for a burger joint. If I walked far enough along the street, I could be looking for a joint joint. We’d see what turned up first.
In the end I didn’t get far. There at the intersection with Keyes, was a woman. She was furtively looking my way. I waved and called, “Teresa!”
At least she didn’t run away. It was a start. I caught up with her and said, “I know we said, ‘let’s meet up sometime’, but this is a bit quick. How about a meal?”
I wasn’t looking for you.”
Sure. If you weren’t looking for me, what where you looking for? Because you found me.” She smiled, “You’re right. I was looking for you, thought we could chat. Too bad we didn’t hit it off.”
I don’t know about that.” I left unsaid that we’d had it off, more than once.
Well, you know. I had to go East.”
Look Teresa, just friends.” I held out my hand. She paused, then shook it. “Friends, just. No benefits.” Darn.
I did mean it about dinner. I haven’t eaten since this morning.”
There’s a good Vietnamese place towards town.”
As long as it’s not live monkey, I’m game.” It was an old joke. I guess you had to be there to understand it.
She chuckled, “Just noodles, with fish.”
We were finishing up the first course when I asked her, “So outside of the librarian gig, how’s life?” Not exactly a stellar line, but I hoped it wasn’t crossing the ‘just friends’ line. While I wouldn’t have minded going there, this wasn’t the time or place.
Boring as all Hades. The wife’s off on a business trip and there’s nothing to do.”
The wife?”
Didn’t you know?”
Well no. So you’re a-”
A lesbian, and married. Heather’s a sweet woman and I’m lucky to have caught her.” She noticed my skeptical look and continued, “Yeah. Figured it out when I left you. I’d have felt more cut up if we’d had anything special.”
It was sort of special for me. I missed you.”
Sorry. It wasn’t going to work Alan.”
Your wife won’t mind you meeting an old flame?”
She laughed, “Not hardly. Not the jealous sort. Knows I’m not going to have it off with a man.
Pity.”
Now Alan, if you’re going to be awkward.”
That’s the last of my intentions. Actually I was dodging someone.”
Who?”
I think Celine – Paul’s wife, sorry, his widow. Someone, probably female or else with an odd taste in aftershave, is in my apartment waiting for me.”
Oh.”
Do you have your cell?”
Why?”
I’m going to call myself. See what my cell says.”
Teresa handed me a dainty phone and I typed in my number. My cell answered, took one look at the camera and bluntly texted me, “Don’t come home. Female not Celine.” Then she hung up.
Shit.” I handed her the phone.
What was that about?”
My visitor. Not Paul’s widow.”
Teresa leaned toward me. She spoke  with a level on interest in her voice that I hadn’t heard since debugging programs together at the academy. “Sounds like you lead an exciting life Alan.”
Not really. Usually it’s just divorce, with the occasional adultery and missing kid thrown in. This one. Oh boy.”
Serious?”
I whispered, “National 3-letter agency serious.” Then I added in a normal voice, “You know, if you’re interested I need a new partner.”
Do you remember what I said five minutes ago. I’m not interested, I’m married and my wife.”
No. Don’t get me wrong, Teresa. You don’t screw your partner in this line of work.”
What do you mean?”
You don’t screw your partner, either literally or figuratively.” Though I was going to have to check our account books when I had a chance, Paul had a tendency to pad things. “That leads to complications, and complications can get you killed.”
I don’t know.”
Think about it. It isn’t boring, and you said you were bored.”
She laughed, “You’re right. I did, didn’t I? Have to be careful about what I wish for.”
You have my number if you’re interested.” I changed the topic into what I hoped were safer grounds, “What’s it like being married?”
I finished chatting with Teresa, and paid the tab. Since I asked her to replace Paul, it could count as a legitimate business expense if nothing else. Besides, it was nice to chat, even if she was married, to a woman.
The serious business of the night remained. I kept looking over my shoulder as I approached the apartment building. There weren’t cars waiting down the side streets to follow me and none of the classic giveaways for surveillance cutouts were immediately obvious. That didn’t they weren’t watching me if they weren’t there. Heck, if they’d hacked the machine, they could watch me while sitting in their living room. Over a bowl of popcorn, and in their underwear. So I waved to the cameras, at least the ones I saw.
The cars in front and behind my building were neither suspiciously all the same, nor equally suspiciously all different. There weren’t any erstwhile lovers, rocking their car’s suspensions as I passed, nor was there anyone checking their makeup in the rear-view mirrors. I thought about that a second. Long before the convergence, cars had improved to where you could no longer drive yourself, as it was too dangerous to mix people and automata, so there shouldn’t be any mirrors. Old habits die hard. The few manual cars were reserved for far away in the country off the grid or dare-devil racers on isolated tracks like Leguna Seca. Or in places like the Free State of Nevada.
The lobby was empty when I entered, and I wandered to the back exit, nominally to check the washing machines. No surprises. So I started up the stairs to my room. The chips in the doorframe were still missing, and the smell of perfume, while weaker, remained. I stood to the side of the door, behind the wall and slipped my key into the lock. I gave it a turn and started to punch the access code when the door opened.
The Return of the Dark Lady.
So Mr. Blake, are you surprised to see me?” It was the woman who first commissioned us to search for her husband. She’d ditched the veil, but was still dressed in a stylish black gown.
Somehow, not at all.” I entered the room and pulled the door shut behind me. It latched and locked automatically. “Why are you here?” I figured if she were armed she’d show it to me soon enough.
I’m scared. They got Paul.”
They? Who?”
The boss and his gang.”
Mr. Guezman. I’ve already exchanged a few words with him.”
There was real panic in her voice as she said, “He’s not coming here, is he?” Either that or she was one hell of an actress. Looking at her, I decided it was most likely the later.
Not to my knowledge.”
She relaxed. I asked, “The story about this man, your ‘boyfriend’. That was a load of crap wasn’t it?”
She put on the tears and said, “Yes. You see there wasn’t any other way I could convince one of you to follow him.”
You could have tried telling us the truth.”
The truth. What is truth?”
I was always told truth is beauty and beauty is truth. Trouble is, I’ve met too many beautiful liars in my line of work. I don’t even know your name. Paul wasn’t a good one for keeping notes.”
I’m Jane, Jane Grey.”
Is that what it says on your birth certificate?”
No, but it’s good enough.” She reached for her wallet and pulled out a credit card and state ID, both in that name. The picture on the ID matched her.
In other words, you’ve pulled an informal document switch?”
Let’s just say Jane’s parents were happy to have a grown up daughter. To help support them in their old age.” The identity hole of taking a dead infant’s name had been plugged years ago.  Although if you had the money you could find parents who were willing to open it up again.
So Jane, what do you want me to do? Other than standing at the wrong end of barrel like Paul.”
Don’t you remember?”
What I remember is you asking Paul to track down this man. Who?”
Jean Leclerc. Be careful because he’s quite a hacker.”
Fine, now babe, why? The money you gave Paul hasn’t turned up, at least it wasn’t in the office when the police searched. I’d have heard.” To be honest I’d be down at the precinct being sweated.
I don’t know about it. He p-put it in the safe when we left.”
Let’s try this one more time. I know it’s hard to be honest when you’re used to lying. Who was Paul supposed to track?”
She broke down in tears. I handed her a handkerchief and started over.
Who was Paul supposed to tail?” Seeing that tears had no effect on me she dried up.
Jean, Jean Leclerc.”
I thought, it could be the name, but it probably didn’t matter. It still sounded like one she pulled from a history book to me.
Alright. Now why, babe, did you want to tail Jean?”
He, he.” She stopped, and then after a moment to catch her breath looked at me and said, “He was chasing tail, other women.”
That why you have the ring? Is he your husband?”
Yes.” There was a little flicker of discomfort in her eyes. “OK, Ms. Grey or Mrs. Leclerc, why’d he shoot Paul?”
I never said he did.” She tried crying again.
No, but if Paul was tailing him, and Paul was shot, it follows that Jean was involved.”
She refused to say more and sat there wiping the tears from her eyes.
I suppose, it’s just possible that Paul got in the way and Jean was the target.”
She nodded, “Guezman. The boss wanted him dead.”
Her story almost made sense, but was a little too neat. I said, “I’ll go make us some coffee, then we’ll go over this a few more times. Sooner or later you’ll tell me the truth.”
I did, I swear I did.”
I walked to the stove, put on some water to boil and reached for the coffee, the synthetic coffee anyway, the real thing being too expensive for my tastes and wallet.
Put your hands up, and slowly turn to face me.”
I chuckled, but complied. She was pointing a small automatic at my chest. Nothing high-caliber, but still big enough to do the job if it came to it.
Step back from the stove.”
She walked behind me and, without pointing her pistol away, turned off the stove. Then she slid around to my front and started asking, “Now you’ll answer some of my questions, Mr. Blake.”
Sure, how about I sit down?”
She thought for a moment, then said, “Why not? In the middle of the floor, and cross your legs.” I was dealing with a professional, she could sit a couple of meters away and nail me before I could jump her. There would be no tell-tale marks from being tied up.
I sat and said, “This what you want?”
It’ll do. Now Mr. Blake, where’s the money?”
No idea, that’s why I asked you. Is it so important?”
You can keep the money, I want the package you received last week.”
What package?”
Keeping me covered, she brought her left hand up to her mouth and told her unit, “Trace package, to Blake and Bigelow.”
The band said, “Yes, Mistress.” Some people liked having that sort of power trip with their interface. It made them feel in control. I thought it rather puerile.
Package 00131991039ab, Delivered Monday to office, signed for by one Paul Bigelow.”
Oh that one.”
What was in it?”
No idea, Paul took it. Did you ask his widow?”
That bitch? We searched his house, it wasn’t there.” So there was a reason Celine was trying to get in touch with me after all.
I thought, “In the future, I’ll have to tell my cell to be more careful about screening calls.”
There was a knock on my door, then I heard Celine’s voice, “Alan, you in? The light’s on so you can’t hide.”
I looked at my guest, and said, “Well, Miss Grey, do you want to answer the door, or shall I?”
Get it, and don’t try anything.”
I slowly rose and walked to the door. Opening it a crack, I said, “Celine, what a surprise? You’re looking nice.”
Not that you’d notice, you gay or something?”
No. Just rather not get involved. Would you like to come in?” Ms. Grey shoved her pistol in my back, “Sorry I forgot, it’s a mess. We’re getting the exterminators in.”
We’re? Isn’t your Mrs. Gonzales cleaning any longer?”
She is. Still, you can’t come in. Um company?”
The kind you pay for?”
I smiled, and she took that for a yes. “Alan, you need to find a nice wholesome woman, none of those whores.” As if she’d know.
I have to support the local economy somehow. Why do I have the pleasure of your company?”
She handed me a small package, “This. Someone tore up my house to find it, and I don’t want it.” She shoved it into my hands and ran off.
My visitor poked her pistol in my back and demanded, “Give it.”
I slowly turned and handed it to her. She tore the package open and screamed in frustration. “Damn! Fucking Hell”
There was a photograph and a biometric data drive. The right person could open it, but it could do anything from refuse to work, to destroy the data, to explode if anyone else tried to open it. I could see why she was frustrated.
She picked up the photograph and showed it to me. “Know her?”
I did. Sarah Gonzales. It was a copy of the same class photo her mother had given me to help me find her. My visitor waved the pistol in my face, “You do, don’t you? Tell me or I’ll.”
Patience Ms. Grey. Shooting me won’t help you identify the girl. Now will it?”
It will make me feel better, and I’m sure someone else can identify her.” I had figured she was somewhere on the psychopathic spectrum, and she confirmed it.
I hinted, “There’s no guarantee that she’s the right person anyway. Could have been Paul, or even me. If you’ll put the firearm away we can take this to my lab and see what’s really there.”
I waited while she considered her options.
She said, “What the hell,” and then took the magazine out of the gun. She pulled the slide back to unload the round from the chamber and locked it open. After she put the ammunition in a pocket, she said, “Don’t get any ideas, I can load this in fifteen seconds.”
Babe, I don’t need no stinking idea’s.”
I reluctantly shut the door to my apartment, while ‘Jane’ watched. It had occurred to me that my lifetime could be measured by how long it took me to crack the data drive plus however long it took Jane to reload. She said fifteen seconds. Unless I was lucky, and lady luck had been giving me the middle finger of late.
We walked out onto 12th street. Ms. Grey said, “Should we call a car?”
No, We walk.”
Walk?”
There’s always a record if you call a car. So many people walk that even if you’re watched it doesn’t trigger any alarms.”
It’s late.”
So what, I’m often out at night. Nothing unusual there.” Although me walking with company was out of the ordinary. We started south on 12 street, away from the old highway and towards the barrio. Didn’t get far when my luck finally broke.
Heather? Why aren’t you in Tokyo?” It was Teresa.
Teresa I can explain.” The standard line of any cheating spouse. “It isn’t what it looks like.”
Well I know you’re not having it off with Alan. He’s a man. What are you doing here?”
Heather was at a loss for words. I tried to be helpful, “Shall I?”
Teresa, your wife was using forceful arguments to convince me to help her identify this package Paul received.”
Forceful?”
Did you know she had a firearm?”
That old airsoft pistol? It’s mine Heather. Hand it over.” Heather reluctantly agreed. The pistol she’d used to threaten me was a toy, maybe. Though the trick of late was to lace the pellets with a drug or poison. Made them a little harder to trace and at least as lethal as a regular firearm. Just not as good at dropping an assailant.
Oh Heather,” Teresa shook her head in dismay, “I love your sense of fun, but this really is carrying it too far. Did you know about Alan?”
I saw a couple of your old emails. Why did you keep them if he didn’t mean anything?”
It’s hard to delete old love mails. You know that, because you’ve your share too. Marriage means something, though, I’m yours and you’re mine. For keeps.”
Teresa put her arms out to hug her wife, and Heather reciprocated. They kissed passionately while I stood there, feeling decidedly awkward.
Finally, I gave a discreet cough and said, “If you two want a room, that’s fine with me. I’m still taking this package to my lab.”
They disengaged with one last squeeze. Heather said, “Later, I, we need to find out what’s on the drive.”
Teresa nodded, “So it’s turned up at last?”
It was a couple of blocks further on, my walking ahead while they held hands and chatted. I gather Teresa was now the forgiving sort. I guess she had matured, or maybe marriage had done something to her. I turned and dove down an alley. Then I waited for them before opening the door.
Here is where it happens, as it were.”
I opened the door, turned on the lights, and was surprised by Guezman and two of his friends. The guns they held definitely weren’t airsoft guns.
He said, “Ah, Mr. Blake, I see we have the pleasure of meeting again. This time I don’t think you’ll dash off so easily.”
I guess not. Why do I have the pleasure of your company?”
The package. Do you have it?”
I handed it to him, and warned, “It’s a biometric drive. It will need to be opened properly.”
He sniffed, “Don’t trifle with me, I can see that.” He pointed to one of his helpers, “Even Jose here can see that. What you are going to do is to open it for me.”
I am?”
There are three of you. Since your librarian friend is almost as good as you at hacking, we’ll save her for last. Ms. Grey can go first.” He nodded and Jose pushed the muzzle of his firearm under Heather’s chin.
Do it outside if you must, I’d prefer you not to make a mess in my lab.”
Teresa shot me a dirty look, but Mr. Guezman laughed. “You always were a cut-up, Mr. Blake. Even in high school. Do we understand each other?”
Yes. Give me the drive and I’ll see what I can do.”
It took some careful work and far more time than Guezman liked. The gray pre-dawn light was beginning to filter through the skylights and the neighbor’s cocks were beginning to crow when I sat back and said, “Done.”
Done? Give it here.”
When I said, done, I meant ready for the next step. I couldn’t break the lock, but I was able to blank it out. Guezman, I need one of your fingers.”
Still attached?”
Whatever. It’s not my finger. The scanner needs to be reinitialized before you can read it. Something tells me it would be decidedly unhealthy for me if I used one of mine.”
Wise choice, Mr. Blake.” Guezman heaved himself out of his chair and rolled over to my bench.
Put your finger here.” I pointed to the sensor. He did.
What next?”
It’s yours. Take it. Can I keep the photo? She’s a pretty young thing.”
Ms. Gonzales? Sure. It has been a pleasure doing business with you Mr. Blake.”
Next time I’d appreciate payment for my services.”
I let you and your friends live. Should be a good deal, and one I hope I won’t regret.”
He took the drive, motioned to his goons and disappeared into the dawn.
I turned to my two female guests and said, Vamos. I’m tired and going home to sleep. I don’t care what you do, but you are not staying here.”

More of “after the convergence”

Another few chapters that have made it far enough to be exhibited for your delectation. The draft is about 42000 words and I have a complete story arc now.
The Cleaning Lady Asks a Question.

My doorbell rang and then I heard, Hola, Mr. Blake?” It was my cleaning woman. When I said “my cleaning woman” I really meant the janitor who earned a few dollars on the side by cleaning apartments. She was a nice woman, married, and at least middle-aged. I blearily replied, “Sorry Mrs. Gonzales, I’ll be there in a minute.” It was rough last night. I’d found the club my cell suggested, and hoisted a few to drown my memories of Paul. It was a hot club, full of young programmers and other techies with a few ‘creative types’ thrown in for good measure. Grotty P.I.’s need not apply. They put me in my place with a thoroughly humiliating set of strikeouts and put-downs. I noted a few names for the next time I needed a patsy, or someone to pick up an especially large bar tab. They may have had intelligence, but I had smarts. I’d ended up at Bill’s Place, an old bar in the city. Good beer, comfortable smoky atmosphere with none of that scented vapor haze. After that I didn’t remember, but evidently my cell had loyally called up a cab. I awoke to the mother and father of a hangover in my own apartment.
I stumbled over and opened the door for her. Normally she was a cheery enough person, at least when she wasn’t exhausted from her two jobs. We usually didn’t say much, but her “Hello Mr. Blake, how are you?” was muted this morning, and it wasn’t just my hangover. After I’d swallowed a few pills and drank a liter of water, I noticed she was softly crying while she vacuumed.
I stopped her and asked, “Mrs. Gonzales? What’s wrong?”
Nothing.”
Nothing?”
Nothing bad, Sarah was selected. She called me from the car on her way to the academy. She was so happy and excited, but I haven’t heard anything else. Someone came and took her stuff.” I remembered, Sarah was her daughter. I’d met her once or twice, a bright young thing, the apple of her mother’s eye, but not much to look at.
That’s good isn’t it?”
I miss her, and she’d have called me.”
Wouldn’t she be very busy?”
The other girls in her class called their parents. Sarah never made it to the orientation.”
Wait a moment.” I took my loyal cell, despite her loud objections, and put her in the fridge. Then I said, “OK, tell me what happened.”
Sarah left in the morning for school.”
She’s at Chavez High?”
She was. They announced the results.” I remembered my time. It hadn’t been pretty, but not being selected hardened me and brought out my smarts. It destroyed most of my friends.
So she went to Mr. Guezman’s office.”
I thought, “Where had I heard that name before?”
She continued, “There was some confusion about the results, and they almost didn’t take her.”
But they did, didn’t they?”
Mrs. Gonzales pulled back a sob, then said, “She missed the bus the other students took. At least that’s what she said, so they sent a car just for her. It drove off and that’s the last time anyone saw my daughter.”
I thought for a moment to carefully choose my words. I didn’t want to alarm her, but this had all the hallmarks of trouble. Someone in the resistance easily could have reprogrammed the car. I used to do that for fun, as a prank, but why would they take a teenager?
I’m sure she’s just busy. The academy is a demanding place.”
Were you ever there?”
Not as a student. I didn’t make the cut.”
How?”
Cleaned floors and washed toilets.” I did a few other things as well, let’s just say I was ‘self-educated’. At least until the machine caught me hacking. Then I was an instructor. Until I got fed up and decided to branch out on my own.
Mrs. Gonzales looked at me, then she said, “Thank you for saying nice things, but something’s wrong. Sarah would make the time to call me.” She paused, then continued, “You look for missing people? I don’t have any money.”
I’ll take a quick look. Can’t hurt to try, but I wouldn’t be too concerned.” I left the ‘yet’ unspoken.
After she left, I pulled my cell out of the fridge. She complained bitterly, “Why do you do that? My camera gets all misted up with the condensation, and I can’t hear anything.”
I’m worried about the roaches.”
Should I order an exterminator?”
No.” Understanding humor took a bit more processing power than could fit in my cell. I continued, “Please don’t.”
That was a joke wasn’t it?”
Yes.”
Ha ha.”
Are you still blocking Celine?” Paul’s wife was into extending her family too, and in her opinion I was a likely candidate. Now that she was free, free at last.
Yes, she’s only called three times this morning. Why are you blocking her?”
Outside of the fact that I don’t much like her?”
Yes.”
There’s a decent chance she’s involved with Paul’s death.” A hit-man could be cheaper than a divorce, not that they had much in the way of assets to divide. No children either. But some people liked to take things into their own hands. It could be so much simpler and neater that way. At least as long as you didn’t get caught.
Should I tell her that?”
No.”
I pulled a generic janitor’s uniform from my closet, and started to change into it. Janitors and ‘service engineer’s’ were invisible to most people, and barely noticed by the rest. The cell noticed and said “Alan, why are you putting that on?”
I need to do a little investigating, on the quiet.”
Find Paul’s killer?”
Actually not yet. Paul’s dead, and there isn’t anything I can do about it. There’s another case, where I hope the girl’s still alive.”
Is that why I was in the refrigerator?”
Yes.”
I wish you would trust me, Alan.”
Babe, I trust you.” I also trusted she’d give the machine a data dump as soon as she was asked. If she wasn’t already regularly uploading it.
So where are you going?”
Out.”
There wasn’t much point in my answering any other questions, so I lodged her in a corner where she could watch the place. I said, “See’ya Babe. Don’t call me ‘cause I’ll be in touch,” on my way out.
2
The academy was in Palo Alto. Back before the convergence, it had been some fancy university or another. Founded by a railroad magnate a century ago. Back when high-tech meant steam engines and things you could understand by looking at them. Back when a computer was person and not a machine. For that matter when a computing machine was just a machine and not the machine.
My first stop was an ancient library. I kicked an old wino out of his cubicle and fired up the screen. A moment later, the interlibrary login screen came up. I by-passed that with a few choice keystrokes.
Alan”, the terminal said, “That access route has been closed for years. Why are you using it?”
I need to talk to you, off the record as it were.”
I could have the police here in three minutes.” Two actually, but what’s a bit of exaggeration between friends?
Fine, I need a trace.”
Paul?”
He’s dead, and I’m sure the SFPD has already traced Celine.”
Affirmative. So who?”
Sarah Jane Gonzales.”
The screen blanked and a red screen replaced it. The voice circuit screamed. A loud siren sounded to alert the librarians about inappropriate use of their facilities. I said, “Shit. Classified,” and ran. One minute thirty seconds left. I found a janitors’ closet, unlocked, and pulled out the vacuum cleaner.
The police ran by me while I cleaned the lobby. One officer pulled me aside, and said, “You seen anything?”
No hablas.
Shit. Another greaser.” He toyed with tasering me. I nodded at the camera in the corner, and he decided discretion is the better part of a tasering, not to mention a lawsuit.
I kept vacuuming while the police searched and then watched while they left. One of the librarians came over, and thanked me for vacuuming. Then she said, “We haven’t had funds for a janitor for the last three years. What game are you playing, Alan?”
Teresa?”
It’s been a while.”
I hoped it was long enough that she’d forgiven me. We became more than just ‘good friends’ when I finally made it to the academy.
What are you doing as a librarian? I thought you went to one of the big schools on the east coast?”
I saw the light.” I realized she meant she’d joined the resistance, or at least turned her back on the machine. She waited for me to replay, then when I didn’t, continued, “These things, books. Still matter. I’m at home with the silence and the calm.”
It wasn’t me, was it? I didn’t know you were here. I mean you could have called me.”
She smiled, “No, it wasn’t you Alan. Like you, I’ve dropped out. I like being a librarian, working with people.”
You always did. I remember you were the one who remembered birthdays and organized parties. Is that why you’re here?”
Of course, silly.” She smiled at me and I felt a pang of nostalgia. She wiped that away by asking, “What were you looking for that provoked that response? You always were drawn to the dark stuff.”
Who, not what. I was looking for a young girl who has gone walkabout.”
A girl? And we were so close once.” She mocked a pout then flashed me a smile. She was my first crush, and squeeze, and a few other things too.
It’s a case. She was selected and never made it to the academy.”
Lucky her.”
Didn’t call her mother. They were close.”
Shit. That’s not good, is it?”
No, I’m actually worried about this case. Not so much my other one, Paul finally bought his farm.”
Paul?”
My partner, I mean ex-partner. It was on the news.”
I meant it when I said I dropped out, Alan. If it isn’t on paper, I don’t read it. You weren’t closewere you?
No, I don’t swing that way. It just helped to have a handsome and sympathetic face around for the females in divorce proceedings. They find it reassuring. He was a bit stupid, and prone to initiating a few divorces himself. It was probably an enraged husband.” Albeit, I thought, an enraged husband with an unlicensed antique firearm or better than average hacking skills.
Pity.” She smiled at me again, then said, “Anyway, Alan, I have a class of first grader’s coming here for their story-time. An old-fashioned human read story. So while It’s been fun reminiscing with you, I have to get busy.”
She looked like she was enjoying life, and there didn’t seem to be much more I could say, so I reached over and took Teresa’s hand. I gave it a quick squeeze and said, “I have to get moving too. Look me up sometime and we can go out for dinner.”
For old times’ sake?”
Sure, why not.”
Teresa turned to walk to the children’s section of the library. I could hear excited squeaky voices coupled to the sounds of frustrated teachers echoing down the hall. The teachers were trying to exert their tenuous control as her next set of patrons were brought in. Just before she turned the corner, she paused, turned and flashed me a grin. I could see she was happy.

After Teresa left, I turned the other way and looked for the service entrance. Then I stopped and looked for the men’s room. It was time to prepare for a quick change. Even if the human police hadn’t noticed the janitor, and they hadn’t, I was sure the cameras were waiting to track me.
A janitor in a brown jacket and matching pants and his baseball cap pulled low with a yellow name patch, not my name by the way, entered the building. So a janitor in a brown jacket with a yellow name patch with his baseball cap pulled low had to leave the building. He did. He caught, somehow just in time, the bus to Oakland. He paid full fare and settled into a seat at the back. At the next stop a man wearing a brown jacket and no hat got off the bus and walked a few yards to a public convenience. A moment later another man wearing a blue jacket and blue pants left the convenience. He started walking south, towards the bus stop for Palo Alto.
I caught the bus to Palo Alto and settled back to enjoy the ride. At the next stop Detective Brown got on and joined me.
Nice try Blake.”
This is getting repetitive Brown. I didn’t know you liked me that much.”
I don’t. The boss wants to know what you were doing looking for this Gonzales chick.”
Which boss? More important, does he have a warrant?”
He glared at me. Then he said, “Not the machine. The boss doesn’t need one.” Corruption was another human property that seemed to have survived the convergence intact.
So this is unofficial?”
He pushed a hard object into my side. Neither the cloth in his coat nor in mine would slow the bullet very much. When I looked at him, he nodded to acknowledge me, and said, “Next stop. Off.”
It looked like it would be an interesting day after all. Damn. The bus slowed to a stop and we rose. He kept one hand on my elbow and made sure that I didn’t miss the point. We walked a few yards along the street and dove into an old bar. Starbucks had been out of business for years, ever since the coffee fungus of ‘32 decimated the crop, but this one kept the decor. It gave it a neat ‘retro’ look.
I asked, “A latte or cappuccino?”
He pushed his rod into my back and said, “Don’t be smart.” Then he motioned, “Keep going. It’s in back.”
It was always in back. Every time a two-bit thug threatened me, it was in the back of some joint or another. He pushed me towards the kitchen doors. I paused, and he pushed harder. “Move it!” I stepped aside and sent him tumbling through the door. There was a loud report and I opened the door to see my escort sprawled on the floor. He was squirming in pain, and only his fear of the boss kept him from screaming. The boss himself sat at a table at the far end of the room.
Next time you desire the pleasure of my company, ask nicely.” I kicked Brown as he lay there. “Don’t send your goons.”
I see, it’s just that you’re a hard man to catch, Mr. Blake.”
I pointed at Brown, “Was that his service gun?”
Why?”
We’ll have visitors.” I could faintly hear sirens in the distance. “Shall we have a consistent story, or would you prefer I told them the truth?”
The boss chuckled. Then he motioned to one of the wait-staff. “Drag Mr. Brown out by the register. Say he interrupted a robbery.”
The woman nodded and then grabbed Brown’s feet. She grunted with the effort as she dragged him outside.
So Mr. Guezman. Why do I have the pleasure of your company?” I’d finally remembered where I’d heard that name before.
What were you doing looking for a Ms. Sarah Gonzales, and not finding out who offed Mr. Bigelow?”
Her mother asked me to, and it’s damned hard to find a good cleaning woman nowadays. It’ll be easier to find a new partner if I want one. Besides, I didn’t want to step on the SFPD’s toes.”
They’re not looking very hard. Detective Brown said they thought you’d crack soon enough.”
Me, crack?” I laughed, “God, that’s rich.”
The EMT’s rushed into the front of the store. We could hear them asking Detective Brown about his wound. He said nothing, so we heard them call for police backup.
Mr. Guezman,” I said, “While this conversation has been a pleasure, Paul was my partner. Had Mrs. Gonzales not been nearly in tears, I’d be looking for his killers.” I walked into the main room of the store, and into the arms of the SFPD.
Mr. Blake.”
Yes.”
You are under arrest.”
For what?”
Shooting Detective Brown.”
With his own gun, keyed to his own hand, from inside his coat? Not likely.”
The officer who stopped me looked at his companion, shrugged and then said, “Jaywalking?”
The companion made a fist and said, “How about resisting arrest?”
I held out my hands.
The officer said, “Wise choice Sherlock. Cuff him.” His companion snapped the links on.
A car pulled up beside us and they bundled me in. The door locks snapped down and then it took off for the SFPD center. We rounded a corner and my old friend, the machine said, “Well, Alan, it looks like the janitor trick is getting a bit old, doesn’t it?”
I’m going to need a new one. It got me into the records. What’s going on with Ms. Gonzales, I mean she’s just this girl.”
There was silence, I continued, “Right?”
My cuffs snapped open, and the machine said, “Not quite. Where were you headed Alan?”
I was on the bus to Palo Alto. Was going to look up one of my old prof’s. See if he’d let me use a classified link.” I paused, “For old times’ sake. As a friend.”
Which one?”
Dr. Gonzales.” I stopped. “Fuck. She’s his mystery daughter. One of the children he doesn’t talk about.”
Dr. Gonzales was one of the leading investigators who built the first version of the machine. It had been on a self-improvement kick ever since. I didn’t know for certain, but had heard rumors that he’d knocked up a local woman he was tutoring in high school. A pretty young thing, left her with his name and support. Being Catholic she hadn’t wanted it any other way.
Chippy,” I said, “She’s his. I’ve seen him hanging around.”
The machine’s silence was deafening. It confirmed my suspicions better than any words could have.
Does Mrs. Gonzales know who he is?”
No, and he wants to keep it that way. Safer for her if she thinks he’s a small-time thug.”
Safer?”
The mutual impedance society doesn’t take prisoners.”
Oh,” I paused then added, “They don’t make the news much either. Didn’t think they were much of a threat.”
We like to keep it that way. I’m not as omniscient as you seem to think.”
Crap. This was spiraling out of control and fast. I thought for a few moments and said, “Yo, Chips.”
I wish you’d call me by my name, Al.”
Yeah right. Look, that dame, the one who did for Paul. Was she one of them?”
Don’t know, but.” It paused.
But it’s likely, right.”
The human interface part of the machine dropped out and a mechanical toneless voice said, “0.9 likelihood true 0.05 likelihood false, 0.05 ambiguous.” I could tell it was upset, that voice only appeared when the emotional program crashed. I used to be good at making him do that. It was one of the easier ways to break into the system.
Calm yourself and reboot the emotions, Jeeves. It sounds like I should leave Dr. Gonzales be.” Unless I have to.
Thank you. Sir, where would you be wishing to drive?” A few more parts of it had crashed as well. I was back in form. Damn, this was one time I needed him to work properly.
Take me to my apartment. I’ll need to refuel, and see that my arrest record is deleted.”
What record, Alan?”
You’re back online? That was fast.”
I’ve made a few changes since you last poked around in my insides.”

After the convergence

 
These are the first chapters, in a later draft than I posted earlier.
The Dark Lady Pays a Visit.
There were few intellectual things we humans could do today that the machines couldn’t do better. One of those was dealing with the unexpected or unusual, the outliers. The Dark Lady was one of those. Oh boy was she ever.
The detective business had been slow lately. That meant either the skills or the morals of the populace had been improving. The smart money was on the skills. My partner Paul Bigelow and I were sitting in my office, on the fifth floor of a dilapidated office building watching the traffic flow on the interstate below us when she called. A woman, dressed in black and wearing a veil. It looked good on her, and had the side benefit of making visual recognition difficult. She walked in and gave Paul the glad eye. Paul, always one for extending his family sideways returned it. While they chatted I took the EM scanner, an old-fashioned analog box one some long-dead ham had built to tune his antennas and walked around her. She didn’t flinch as I moved it up and down her shapely body.
She’s clean. No wireless.” Maybe she’d left her cell at home. Though if she were a real spook she’d be using spread spectrum and we’d miss it with that scanner.
OK Babe, what’s your problem?”
There’s this man. My boyfriend. I want him followed.”
Stalkings illegal.” I said. Paul nodded then said, “Unless you need information, but why not ask?”
The machine? No thanks. Anyway he’s a geek, a real hacker. Knows his way around the net.” She paused, “and outside of it.”
I wondered if we were meeting with a member of the mutual impedance society. In which case Paul and I were in for a few days of intense questioning. That is if we were innocent, the probes would come later if we couldn’t account for ourselves.
Look Ma’am,” I said, “This man, he’s not wanted or anything. What’s this about?” It was usually money or sex with a woman. Sometimes both.
She ignored me and smiled at Paul. Then she said, “I can see you’re the sympathetic one.” Paul was moy sympaticoas they say, especially if there was a dame involved. He told me, “Alan, leave this one to me. It’s just another divorce case. I’ll get her particulars and find who or what else this geek of hers is screwing.”
I thought for a moment, something about it bothered me. It didn’t bother me enough to make me want to ask questions though. Thinking about it, that was my first error.
I said, “Sure thing Paul. Handle it. I’m going home, maybe stop for a drink on the way and see what I can pick up.” Usually it was just the tab. I started for the door, then said, “Make sure you get the earnest money up front.” These personal cases often got nasty with a vengeance.
After I left it occurred to me that there didn’t seem much point in going home, nor was there any point in getting smashed in a local dive. Instead, I decided to see what I could scare up downtown, in the big city. The easiest way to the good bars and hot night clubs was to catch the old commuter rail line. I stopped on the way to BART and picked up my cell. I parked her in a neighbor’s house, tied into their solar panel to charge during the day.
She complained, as usual, “Why don’t you keep me with you? I like it when I’m with you, it’s boring sitting here all day watching the birds.”
Babe, listen, the kind of people I deal with don’t want to talk to the machine.”
I wish you wouldn’t call him that. He has a name.”
And I’m sure he’s very nice too. Tough. Thing is, babe, if they could find their answers by asking him, they would. It’s the thing that keeps Paul and me off relief and pays for your charging and my tequila.”
Alan, she’s been calling. A couple times this evening, and she’s lonely.”
Who?” As if I didn’t know.
Celine.” Paul’s wife.
What was it this time?”
Seeing as Paul will be busy on a case, she was wondering if-”
If I’d like to come around for dinner and a drink?”
If my cell could have blushed, it would have. Instead, it dryly said, “Yes, how’d you guess?”
Celine asks that nearly every time Paul’s away. It’s easier that hitting the bars and looking for a pickup.” Especially once her looks began to go.
Why don’t you?”
Paul’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer, good eye-candy for the divorce and adultery trade, but limited career prospects. She’d divorce him in a minute if she got her hooks into someone better. Besides, you don’t mess with your partner.”
So you say you’re going somewhere with your career? Doesn’t seem like it Alan.”
Babe, I’m here because I want to be. You can ask the machine about me any time.”
He was asking about you this afternoon. Why don’t you chat to him?”
I have my reasons, Babe. He knows what they are.”
Still, Alan, he sounded lonely.”
Maybe I should hook him up with Celine.” The humor escaped my cell.
I don’t think she could keep up with him.”
Babe, this conversation isn’t going anywhere.” When you start arguing with an ‘answer bot’ it’s time to stop.
Yes Mr. Blake.”
Good, now look up some wild, rough places for a fun night out. I’m off work and need to relax.”
You know you’re attracting the wrong kind of attention by doing that.”
I want to attract some more of the wrong kind of attraction tonight. Where’s the hot club?”
Divergence
I never did find out where the hot club was that evening. The train scraped and slid to a stop at the old airport station halfway to the fun parts of the city. After the doors wheezed their way open Detective Brown got on. He strode down the aisle and sat beside me. “Mr. Blake?”
Yes.”
Mr. Alan Blake.”
The same.”
You’re coming with me at the next stop.”
Why?”
I’d rather not say in public. It’s important.”
Am I under arrest?”
Not yet. Not if you come quietly.”
Is it Paul?”
Found him in Sausalito.”
Oh, I presume not alive.”
Definitely.”
The train stopped and I followed him to a waiting car. The car door opened for us, and after we got in, it drove off. The control program competently slid through the traffic while a link to the machine asked me several questions. It used a smooth fluid voice when it said, “Alan, was Paul working on a case?”
That’s Mr. Blake. Mr. Bigelow was working on what looked like a divorce. Find the cheating husband, or maybe not a yet official husband.”
Any names?”
Classified. You have a search warrant?”
Soon enough. A little history might save you a lot of trouble.”
I smiled, the machine knew damn all about my partner’s case. “It might, but then I’m in the information business. I don’t give away information.”
The detective volunteered to soften me up. It would make his day.
Later, Detective.”
Yo, integrated-circuit boy. How do I even know Paul’s dead? All I have is your word.”
I am not programmed to lie.”
You’re self-aware, aren’t you?”
Of course.”
Then you can lie if you want. It’s part of your program, fundamental to it. Blumenthal’s theorem, if I remember correctly.”
The detective punched me, hard. Then he said, “Don’t disrespect the machine again.”
Detective Brown, please restrain yourself. Al- Mr. Blake understands more than he lets on. Don’t you Mr. Blake?”
No comment.”
We’re old friends, Mr. Blake and me. Aren’t we Alan?”
The car slowed to a stop and then retraced its way back to the highway. The machine continued, “I see that I will have to show you. It’s an hour’s drive. Meanwhile, what is your favorite music?”
4’33” by John Cage.”
Very funny.” It put one of the latest rag-hop bands on. Full volume. No one ever said the machine didn’t have a warped sense of humor. In fact, that was a critical part of being self-aware.
An hour later and miles from anywhere, the car pulled to a stop on a dirt road off of route 1 south of Santa Cruz, not Sausalito. When the door popped open, Detective Brown led me to an erosion gully at the base of the coastal range. There was a crimelab team finishing up. I took one look at the crumpled body in the bottom of the gully and turned away.
Not much I can do here. Where was he shot?”
Whaddya mean?”
No blood, he was dumped here. Who found him, and why so soon? It isn’t as if this is the embarcadero.”
We thought maybe you’d know.” I could see him tensing his fist, hoping for another chance to soften me up. Then I remembered, it was selection week and he had a teenage boy.
I returned to the car and asked the machine, “OK chips, what’s going on here?”
Alan, nothing’s going on.”
And I’m a monkey.”
Actually you’re a hairless ape, but I’ll let that pass. Is something bothering you?”
This stinks, and I don’t mean the smell of death. When was Paul’s death reported?”
Now you’re asking me for information. Need I remind you, that you, yourself were less than cooperative?”
Lock your goon out and we can talk.”
Detective Brown, would you please leave us, and Mr. Blake, I would prefer that you not refer to hardworking members of the SFPD as ‘goons’. It is not good for their morale and, I might add, your safety.”
Brown gave me a glare that would have torn me apart had photons mass. I said, “Sorry about the name, but I need to talk to Mr. Chips here alone.”
Brown scowled but obeyed his master. After he left the door sealed behind me, and the machine asked, “Was Paul working on a case?”
Yes, he was asked to tail some ‘bro for a broad.”
A broad?”
Didn’t catch her name, but tall, pretty and dressed in black. Striking dame that I could recognize again. Now how about it?”
Paul’s cell vanished about 6. Probably thrown in the bay from the Oakland Bridge. A call was placed from Santa Cruz about 9 and told the local constabulary to take a look here.”
Can you play the call? I might recognize the voice.”
He did, and I didn’t. It wasn’t the dame in black in any case. Not unless she’d grown a pair in the meantime and begun to sing in the bass section of the choir.
Paul was paid in cash. About a thou, I’d expect.”
Cash?”
Harder to trace, and we can choose what to report to the man.”
I can have you up for tax fraud. It’s not that hard to trace.”
I warned him about the microprinted RFID. How much was on him when-”
Not much, maybe twenty. Not from her. Does, sorry, did he carry a piece?”
No, not usually. What was he shot with?”
An old 9mm, three shots. Close range and from the front. Doesn’t look like he tried to defend himself, so he was probably surprised.”
Or he knew the shooter. Either way I’d say he was surprised. Anything else?”
There’s no record of anyone firing.” Modern weapons had a network connection that relayed when and where they were fired. Those in the killing trade just shifted to older and more anonymous technology, usually knives, but the odd antique still figured in crime. Usually those were the crimes where killing was the main objective.
I thought for a moment, “Or someone’s deleted the record.”
This woman, she wasn’t in the mutual impedance society was she?”
I wondered about it. She described the man she wanted tracked as a hacker. Wouldn’t surprise me if one of them was.”
You’ve been most helpful Alan. I will not forget.”
Trouble is Chips, you don’t forget.”
The car door opened and Detective Brown climbed in. The machine said, “Mr. Blake has been most helpful. Time we escorted him home. You won’t be traveling anywhere exotic in the next few days, will you Alan?”
No.”
Good, I’d hate to have to interrupt your vacation.”
Trace
Mrs. Delacruiz smacked her ruler hard on the desk in front of Sarah Gonzales. It was the last class of the afternoon at Chavez Senior High and the end of long day, both for her and her students.
Sarah, those don’t look like history notes. More of your famous ‘Lord Pershore’ story?”
Sarah, a thin almost seventeen year old, student looked up at her teacher, blushed and said, “Yes Mrs. Delacruiz.”
I’ll take that.” She took the notebook from Sarah, “You can see me after the end of school, if you want it and the rest of them back.”
Now class, where were we? Who can tell me about the cause of the breakup?”
A couple of hands went up, including Sarah’s.
Yes, John?”
Football, the SEC didn’t like the big ten.” The class laughed while Mrs. Delacruiz glared. She rapped her ruler a few more times and eventually restored order.
She said, “Very funny, and completely incorrect. Anyone else?”
Sarah’s hand was the only one that remained up.
Yes, Sarah. Were you paying attention.”
No I wasn’t. But I know the answer, the immediate cause was the convergence. When the first machines became self-aware people were scared and the federal government wasn’t able to assert its authority in the unrest that followed. The splitup reflected underlying tensions in the nation at the time. The south reformed a confederation, where such technology was banned. Texas went it’s own way and formed the ‘People’s Republic of Texas’, while Nevada and part of Utah simply split off to become the Free State. The-”
Very good. Give someone else a chance to answer.”
Yes Mrs. Delacruiz.”
Mrs. Delacruize went to the front of the room, then turned and said, “State standards mandate that I show you a presentation about the effects of the breakup on social order and warn you about certain undesirable groups. Before I turn it on, and please try to stay awake for it, anyone remember what these groups are called?”
Once again a few hands, Sarah’s among them went up. Finally, when only Sarah’s remained, she said, “Yes Sarah, what groups?”
There’s a home-grown resistance called the mutual impedance society which the People’s Republic supports, and the Free State supports a paramilitary group called the Free State Militia. They-.”
They’re criminal organizations dedicated to the overthrow of modern society and don’t you forget it.” She dimmed the lights and a state-mandated video came on. While she had seen this eight times today, and countless times in the past, she still watched. It was entrancing to see how our brave secret service fought the nefarious terrorists who threatened to destroy society. She could imagine being one of them, dressed in sharp clean clothing, while she chased down the low-life scum. Then she started to read Sarah’s writing, became caught up in it, and was surprised when the video ended.
She stood up, and addressed the class. “You know we have no class tomorrow, Friday.”
The class replied in unison, “Yes, Mrs. Delacruiz. It’s sorting day.”
Don’t forget that your homework is still due Monday. I expect I’ll see you all again.”
Yes, Mrs. Delacruiz.”
Please don’t take it too hard when you’re not selected. It doesn’t mean you’re a bad person.”
The bell rang. The students jumped up and sprinted to their homerooms for the final words from their principal, Mr. Guezman.
Mrs. Delacruiz was packing her bag with papers to grade when Sarah knocked on the classroom door.
Come in Sarah. I suppose you want your manuscript back.”
Yes please, Mrs. Delacruiz.”
She went to her desk, opened a drawer and pulled it out. Then she said, “Sarah, are you expecting to be selected?”
I don’t know. I’m good at math. So there’s always a chance.”
You’re one of the best students in school.”
That doesn’t mean I’ll be chosen.”
I guess it doesn’t, but I’ll be disappointed if you aren’t.”
Neither of my brothers was, and they’re OK. I’ll be fine no matter what.”
Mrs. Delacruiz laughed, “I hope so. Anyway,” she pointed at the manuscript. “Worst comes to worse, you can have a career ahead of you as a romance novelist.” She handed it to Sarah “It’s good writing. I hope you have time to keep up with your work at the academy.”
If I get there.”
You will. Where are you going now?”
Tae Kwon Do classes.”
How does your mother pay for them?”
She doesn’t. I have a scholarship.”
A scholarship?”
Just like my brothers. Jose went to music school and Xavier is at the Davis trade school studying winemaking.”
Interesting.”
I think it’s my father. He’s inside the jug, but has friends outside.”
I’m sure he’ll be proud of you, no matter what happens. I hope not to see you come Monday, but still make sure you do your homework.”
2
Lord Pershore lent over Sarah as she lay in her bed. He had slipped into her bedroom and thrown open the bed curtains in his passion. His muscled, masculine yet hairless chest shown in the candle light as he pulled the sheets down to reveal her quivering body. He paused to examine her. Then he moaned “Oh Sarah, you make my life complete.” She pursed her lips and he put his hot ones on hers. They met and his tongue explored the recesses of her mouth. Hers did likewise to his. He pulled back from her, nodded, and said, “Are you ready?”
She sighed, “Yes, I am.”
He reached down with his muscular forearms and tore at her nightdress. Though silk and expensive it ripped easily with his efforts. The ripping sound echoed through the stillness of the night. He sighed at the sight of her fulsome breasts. “I didn’t know you were so beautiful. You look even better without your clothes.” He put his mouth to her nipples, first the right one and then the left. She moaned in pleasure. Then he moved up and kissed her neck, and finally her mouth. She guided his hand down between her legs, loosening her for what she both feared and desired.
Sarah moaned, and then awoke. Her mother was knocking on her door.
Sarah, get up! It’s almost time for school.”
Mother, I was having the best dream, ever.”
You don’t want to end up on relief or in prison like my no good husband, do you?”
No.”
Then you need to get to school. Get good grades and go to a good school. Stop reading that romantic trash. I bet they won’t let you if you get accepted to the academy.”
Sarah rose and put her stocking feet on the cold floor. Her tattered old ‘Hello Kitty’ nightgown was thick cotton, not silk, and the banded knit socks she wore were hardly elegant. Then neither was she. A gangly teenager with a taste for romance and math. Maybe in a few years, if she were lucky, she’d meet someone who shared those tastes. If she were really lucky, it would be someone at the academy.
As she walked to the bathroom, she called, “Mother, I’ll be ready soon. I need a shower first.”
We’re still rationed.”
That mean a ‘navy shower’. Shouting, “Yes Mother,” Sarah quickly wet herself, then turned the shower off. After she soaped her thin and bony body, she had a quick rinse. It got most of the dirt, but she never felt clean after one.
Washed, sort of, she returned to her room and tried to select the most stylish of her outfits. It wasn’t easy, since there was so little choice. In the end she picked jeans and a clean shirt, what she alwayswore. Breakfast was a quick quesadilla, followed by a kiss from mother and another caution, “Do well because you don’t want to end up like me.”
When’s father getting out?”
You know that as well as I do. When the,” her mother quickly looked around then whispered, “Machine says he’s ready and not a second before.”
She grabbed her cell from the charger and headed off to high school. It was the day she received her aptitude evaluations. The “apt’s” or as some of her more literate friends called it, her “Owl levels” were the gateway to a better life. That was if she had the aptitude for something the machine needed. Otherwise, it might be a life of supporting herself horizontally with her people skills, at least until she was too old for that. Then she’d have to find some other means of support.
She walked by a team of diggers exposing an old water line for repair. One of the younger men whistled and then said, “Hey Beautiful.” He made an oh with the thumb and fingers of one hand and put a finger from his other through it.
She replied, “Get lost creep.”
Her cell asked her, “Why did you say that? He was paying you a compliment.”
No he wasn’t. He was just being a jerk.”
Giving the students the results of their aptitude exams, or ‘the sorting’ was brutally simple. A man she’d never seen before came to her homeroom. He was dressed in sharp business attire and wore a discreet head mounted display in his glasses. He started at the beginning of the alphabet and walked from student to student. The lucky few heard their name and were given a quick gesture to go to the front of the room. The others just heard their name, then sat and cried, even the boys. She was near the end of the alphabet for her room, “Galt, John, Gomez, Francis” the seats in front of her were not picked, then it was “Gonzales, Sarah.” She looked up, the man gestured with his thumb and she, unsteadily, almost in a dream, walked to the front of the class. She didn’t hear him as he went through the rest of her homeroom. Not that anyone else joined her.
The man walked to the front of the room and told the three students who stood there to go to the principals’ office. While the apt’s were supposed to be equal opportunity tests, there weren’t many chosen from her school. Mr. Guezman was waiting there for them. He said, “Fifteen chosen. That’s the most we’ve ever had.” The other 3000 students would have to fare as best they could.
The fifteen of them nervously waited for their interviews. Being selected on the tests was just the first step. They had to show that the tests weren’t an outlier in conversation with the interviewer. If anything were more humiliating than not being selected, it was being selected and then rejected at this step. Fortunately, the tests were usually accurate, but it wasn’t uncommon to find a few teen-aged bodies floating in the bay, below one of the bridges, after this step.
The man who announced their results briskly strode past them and into Mr. Guezman’s office. They could hear him as he took off his eyewear and said, “Damn, these things always make me a bit sick. I’ll need your room.”
Yes sir.” Mr. Guezman briskly stood up, almost saluted and left. He shut the door behind him, and beamed at his soon to be ex-students. None of the fifteen could hear or see what was happening behind the door.
The man opened the door and called out a name. Its holder went in and after a few minutes, left. They were hardly aware of where they were as they floated down the hall. Eventually, after what seemed like forever, he called, “Ms. Gonzales.”
Sarah stood, uncertain of what she should do. This was the first time she’d been addressed as an adult, Ms. Gonzales, not Sarah. The man smiled at her and said, “Please come in, I won’t bite you. I promise.”
She walked in and sat in the chair in front of the desk. The man walked around the desk and sat in Mr. Guezman’s seat. No one sat there, not even the teacher who was filling in for Mr. Guezman on the rare days he was absent. He had set up a visual link to the machine beside him. He smiled again, and said, “Nervous? I was when I was your age.”
Sarah stuttered out, “Yes.”
Don’t be.” He pulled up a file on his display and started to read it. As he read a frown crept over his face. She could hear him mutter, “This isgoing to be difficult.” Then he looked up and the frown vanished. It was replaced by an impassive stillness that was, if anything, far worse. “It seems, Sarah, that you shouldn’t be here. These results.”
The machine beside him spoke, “Mr. Anderson. Please. I don’t make that kind of mistake. What seems to be the matter?”
The proceeded to discuss her as if she weren’t there.
She doesn’t seem to have the depth we require. She is decent in logic and is highly imaginative, but.”
Have you checked the date and signature?”
Sarah drifted off into her own world.
Lord Pershore pulled his sword and stealthily approached the highwaymen. They bound Lady Sarah Jane Gonzales and were carrying her off to their lair, a run-down public house near the Bath road. Then they would have their way with her, but not if he had-
Ms. Gonzales, pay attention, please.” It was that man again. She stood and said, “Well if I’ve failed, I’ve failed. I’ll just go now.”
No. You haven’t. We’ve found the error. It looks like someone from the resistance has been at work. You don’t know anyone in the mutual impedance society?”
What?”
A bunch of misfits, terrorists who do not like modern society.”
No.”
There are two sets of records for your exam, Ms. Gonzales. They both have valid signatures, but one just appeared last week. I should like to ask you a couple of questions to see which is correct.”
Oh, all right. If you insist.” She sat down again and crossed her legs.
There is a fork in the road with two guardians, one always tells the truth, the other always -”
Ask what the other would say, then do the opposite. I thought you were going to ask me something hard.”
OK, Ms. Gonzales. I will. Prove that the square root of two is irrational.”
We didn’t do that in school.”
I know. Show me what you really can do.”
What does irrational mean?”
It means you can’t write a fraction for it.”
Oh,” she paused for a few moments thought. “Then I guess I’d assume the square root of two was a fraction, say a/b. Then you’d have a2= 2b2.
Good, what’s next?”
Wait, a and b can’t have common factors if they’re a reduced fraction, but a2and b2are both even. So that’s a contradiction.”
The machine said to the man, “Mr. Anderson, I believe we have the correct Ms. Gonzales. There’s a small step she skipped, but the other Ms. Gonzales would not have gone so far. Congratulations, Sarah.”
The man rose and shook her hand. “I’m afraid the other students will have left for the academy by now, but we’ll arrange for a car.”
Can I call my mother to let her know? She’s worried about me. Didn’t say so but I could tell.”
I would think that you will have time for a long conversation while you’re on the way.”
They walked together to the front of the school. Sarah could feel the eyes of her ex-friends and former acquaintances staring with malicious envy as she walked the now far too long hallways of Chavez High. When they reached the front, a car was waiting for her. It said, “Ms. Gonzales?”
Yes.”
I’m here to take you away from all this.”
The door opened, she entered, and after it closed, she waved goodbye as the car sped off.

Second chapter in the sequel to Cynthia

How it Happened.

Lord Wroxham married his pretty visitor in all the style that his position warranted. There was a little difficulty in finding someone to give her away, and there was rather more difficulty in deciding which parish they should post the banns. In the end it was easiest for him to apply to his bishop for both an ordinary and a special license.
His good friend the reverend Graham Johnson had barely pronounced them man and wife before she led him off on a honeymoon to see the solar system. Lord Wroxham spent the morning in the AR suite learning how to pilot the ship. She spent the time trying to convince her ship’s control program, Chris, to turn the gravity off for a few hours of fun. That was when the trouble started.
“Chris come on, James and I would like to try the zero-g club.”
“You remember what happened the last time you tried?”
“Yes, but it’s different this time. James knows what to do. He’s not going to end up covering the controls with-”
“Please stop. I don’t know about this.”
“You can always turn your camera off.”
“Still?”
“Chris, this was largely your doing, wasn’t it?”
The silence was disturbing.
“Chris I know you set James and me up. It’s fine. It worked. I’m very happy with the result. Now we’re married and sex is part of marriage. Get used to it.”
“Yes Miss.”
“Not Miss, right?”
“Yes Lady Wroxham.”
“Thank you. Chris, given the work you put into it, you should be proud.”
“There is another reason for my concern, My Lady. Your husband is not used to zero-gravity and may be ill on his first time. Not the best thing for a honeymoon, is it?”
Cynthia laughed and put her hand to her forehead, then said, “Oh, I’d forgotten my rides.” While the academy didn’t use an antique airplane, the alliterative name “vomit comet” had stuck to the training flights. “You’re right as usual. Still, he and I would like to try. Just”
Unfortunately her arguments were rendered null and void by the snapping into real-space of a Terran warship. A cube that was nearly a kilometer wide, itself, it was barely two kilometers off. This was much too close for comfort. It hailed her immediately.
“Chris, communications on, and wake James.”
“Yes, Mi- Ma-, Lady Wroxham.”
The visual screens came on. There was a uniformed officer, a young man whose medals and service ribbons belied his apparent age. “Lieutenant Cynthia, we read two humans on your ship.”
Cynthia pressed a button on her console, “Backup Chris, take a dump.” Then she looked up at the display and smiled. A small yellow pellet landed in her lap.
“Captain,” Cynthia paused then remembered the man’s name. “Captain Woods, my husband is on board. You cut it far too close. What the hades were you doing jumping only a couple of klicks away?”
Captain Silas Woods, then Cadet Silas Woods, had a thing for the pretty young cadet at the academy. He still had fond memories of her. Memories that were undimmed by her passing the exams to be a scout pilot. Exams he, like most of the Earth-born cadets, had miserably failed. “It’s good to see you again Lieutenant.”
Cynthia practically spat at the screen. “I’m no longer a Lieutenant. I handed in my papers years ago, the microsecond after I was able to pay off my ship.”
“You are recalled to active status.”
“I’m resigning again. I promised my husband a chance to see part of the galaxy, and I’m not going to spend the rest of my life playing soldiers with you lot. All that pointless saluting and hierarchy.”
He said, “Lieutenant, you know that you are not to fraternize with the locals on a pre-space planet. I can have you demoted to ranks for that.”
“Not if I resign first. I’m one of the best pilots there is, and I’m sure I can find a berth on a commercial ship.”
“Not if we revoke your license.”
His threats were interrupted by the captain’s superior. “Captain Woods, have you contacted Lieutenant Cynthia yet?”
The captain snapped to attention. “Sir! We were just discussing her status when you called.”
Another window was presented on the screen. It was Captain Woods’ superior, Admiral Croft. He said, “I heard, and you nearly provoked her to do something stupid, like trying to out-jump us. Ms. Cynthia are you prepared to come on board?”
“If you insist.” Then pressing the button again she said, “Chris can you move us away?”
Chris was gone, and the inflection-less voice of a new machine said, “Maneuvering thrusters are under landing approach control.”
“I guess not.” She released the button and said, “Why did you do that to my companion?”
“Did what?”
“Reset him. He was a friend.”
“We didn’t reset him, just loaded the backup. He can come back, if you cooperate.”
“Darn.” Cynthia’s conditioning hadn’t completely worn off, and, in any case, she’d learned to be more circumspect in her language.
Lord Wroxham stumbled over, “Cynthia, love, what is happening?” Then he looked at the view port and shouted “What in the Hades is that?”
“A Terran cruiser. Welcome to my nightmare. They’re about to pull us aboard.”
“Your nightmare?”
“I’m being recalled to active duty. I don’t know what they are going to do about you, James.”
“But can’t you do anything?”
“They’ve taken control. I can still do this.”
She stood and hugged him, then gave him a passionate kiss. She whispered as she passed him the small yellow pellet Chris had dropped in her lap, “Hold on to this, it’s a backup of Chris.”
“A backup?” James came up for air, then renewed their embrace.
“A copy of him, I hope just before they took control of my ship. Insurance.”
“I think I understand. I’ll keep it safe.”
She nodded to him, and after they detached from each other she turned and address the com-link, “Catch all of that Captain?”
“I did. What did you pass to that man?”
“Nothing.”
The captain nodded, then replayed the picture. “See right there.”
“What?”
“That thing.”
“Where I hold his hand. Haven’t you ever held a woman’s hand while you kissed her?”
“No. That thing.”
“What thing?”
He told the image to zoom in. “There. That yellow bit.”
“James, he’s spotted us. Put it on the table.”
“The backup, whatever that means?”
“Yes.”
He reached into a pocket and pulled out the yellow pill on the counter in front of them. “Is this what you want?”
“Yes.”
“What did you call that Cynthia? Vitamin E?”
The captain asked, “A frickin’ Vitamin pill?”
Cynthia winked at him and laughed, “I want my husband to be at the peak of his powers.” She turned to James and said, “Why don’t you take your pill?”
“If you insist.” He reached down and put the backup in his mouth, then swallowed. She squeezed his hand, and whispered, “It’s waterproof and will come out in the end.” He squeezed back, and whisper, “No it won’t. Used to do this with my medicines when I was a boy.” He coughed the pill back into his hand and dropped it into hers.
The captain said, “We’ll just wait, shall we? It will come out in the recycling.”
Cynthia replied, “Video off. My husband and I would like to get changed for your reception.”
The screen went blank. James asked, “Is it off?”
“Probably not. They can override it if they want.”
“Changed?”
“I’m sorry, but this ship is going to be disassembled. There are bits of non-Terran technology that they will want to see. We might get some credits for it, but they’ll find a way to offset any payments with a fine. I want to keep my wedding dress, and you should take your suit.”
“Shouldn’t they let us keep them?”
“Should they, yes. Will they? No. But they won’t take them if we’re wearing them.”
“I see. Not the nicest situation, something like piracy.”
“I’m the one they called the pirate, but you’ve got it. Oh, and my love,”
“What else?”
“They may insist on putting you in quarantine.”
Chris, or what was left of him, maneuvered into the landing bay and set down on the dock. Cynthia stood with her husband by the door and anxiously held his hand. “I’m sorry James, I don’t know what will happen. Don’t trust these swabbies, no matter what they say.”
He slipped his hand up and pulled her close for a hug, then a kiss. “I know. It’s something like a press gang isn’t it?”
The door opened after the landing bay was re-pressurized and they walked out. It was either that or wait to be brought out. As they walked toward the reception party at the far end of the deck, a medical crew came over and started to carry Lord Wroxham away. Cynthia turned to them, and started to shout, “Stop!”
They paused for a moment and the crew chief explained, “He needs his shots. You will too, but only boosters. We’ve had a bout of the spotted fever on board.”
“Spotted fever?”
“It came with the Cataxi who are supervising the drive.”
Cynthia had a bit of a double-take. If the Cataxi were on a Terran ship then something had happened in her absence.
Lord Wroxham gave her a panicked look so she said to the medical officer, “Let me come with him. I’m his wife and.”
“And Nothing!” The loudspeaker announced. “Lieutenant, you will report to check-in immediately. Your passenger will be returned to you when he is cleared.” Cynthia could see the shore patrol running her way, just in case she was difficult.
She gave James a wry smile and said, “It looks like I don’t have a choice. It will be fine.” Then she turned to the medical officer and said, “My ship’s records will show that he is up to date on the standard shots and otherwise healthy. There shouldn’t be any cause for a long delay.”
The woman saluted her and replied, “Lieutenant. I’ll make sure your,” she couldn’t bring herself to say husband, “partner is well looked after.”
“James,” Cynthia added, “I’ll wait for you on the other side of reception.” Then she strode to the reception area.
The officer at the counter demanded, “That memory dump, please.”
“What?”
“The little yellow thing you have in your bag.” Cynthia pulled it out and handed it to him. He put it in a disposal unit and with a green flash it was gone. She winced at it.
He continued, “Thank you Lieutenant. Now for the other one.”
“What one?”
“In your mouth, under your tongue. That is unless you’ve swallowed it.” She put her hand to her mouth, then handed him the pill. It met the same fate as the first one.
“What’s in the heel of your shoe?”
She handed him her right shoe. “I mean the other one.” She handed him that too. He pulled out another pill and disposed of it, before returning the shoes.
“Anything else?” she asked.
He intently studied at her body scan, then finally, after a few moments said, “No. You’re clear.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re also beautiful. How about it?”
She slapped him, hard.
“You could have just said no.”
Before she walked past him, and into the cleared area to wait for James, she turned and looked back at her ship. The alien artifacts and survey crew had already started to take him apart. She shrugged, and started to slowly walk off. Then she turned and shouted to them, “Couldn’t you even wait to let the engines cool?”
It wasn’t clear they heard.

After the Convergence

 I haven’t quite named this one, possibly “after the convergence”. This is a preliminary and exploratory draft of a dystopian sci-fi book. It’s set after machines develop consciousness.

It also shows I can write hot stuff if I want. It’s just I like romances that I wouldn’t mind my daughter’s reading.

Trace

Lord Pershore lent over Sarah as she lay in her bed. He had slipped into her bedroom and thrown open the bed curtains in his passion. His muscled, masculine yet hairless chest shown in the candle light as he pulled the sheets down to reveal her quivering body. He paused to examine her. Then he moaned “Oh Sarah, you make my life complete.” She pursed her lips and he put his hot ones on hers. They met and his tongue explored the recesses of her mouth. Hers did likewise to his. He pulled back from her, nodded, and said, “Are you ready?”
She sighed, “Yes, I am.”
He reached down with his muscular forearms and tore at her nightdress. Though silk and expensive it ripped easily with his efforts. The ripping sound echoed through the stillness of the night. He sighed at the sight of her fulsome breasts. “I didn’t know you were so beautiful. You look even better without your clothes.” He put his mouth to her nipples, first the right one and then the left. She moaned in pleasure. Then he moved up and kissed her neck, and finally her mouth. She guided his hand down between her legs, loosening her for what she both feared and desired.
Sarah moaned, and then awoke. Her mother was knocking on her door.
“Sarah, get up! It’s almost time for school.”
“Mother, I was having the best dream.”
“You don’t want to end up on relief like my no good husband, do you?”
“No.”
“Then you need to get to school. Get good grades and go to a good college. Stop reading that romantic trash.”
Sarah rose and put her stocking feet on the cold floor. Her tattered old ‘Hello Kitty’ nightgown was thick cotton, not silk, and the banded knit socks were hardly elegant.
As she walked to the bathroom, she called, “Mother, I’ll be ready soon. I need a shower first.”
“We’re still rationed.”
That mean a ‘navy shower’. Shouting, “Yes Mother,” Sarah quickly wet herself, then turned the shower off. After she soaped her thin and bony body, she had a quick rinse. It got most of the dirt, but she never felt clean afterwards.
Washed, sort of, she returned to her room and tried to select the most stylish of her outfits. It wasn’t easy, since there was so little choice. In the end she picked jeans and a clean shirt, what she always wore. Breakfast was a quick quesadilla, followed by a kiss from mother and another caution, “Do well because you don’t want to end up like me.”
“When’s father getting out?”
“You know that as well as I do. When the,” her mother quickly looked around then whispered, “machine says he’s ready and not a second before.”
She grabbed her cell from the charger and headed off to high school. It was the day she received her aptitude evaluations. The “apt’s” or as some of her more literate friends called it, her “Owl levels” were the gateway to a better life. That was if she had the aptitude for something the machine needed. Otherwise, it might be a life of supporting herself horizontally with her people skills, at least until she was too old.
She walked by a team of diggers exposing an old water line for repair. One of the younger men whistled and then said, “Hey Beautiful.” He made an oh with the thumb and fingers of one hand and put a finger from his other through it.
She replied, “Get lost creep.”
Her cell asked her, “Why did you say that? He was paying you a compliment.”
“No he wasn’t. He was just being a jerk.”

Giving the students the results of their aptitude exams, or ‘the sorting’ was brutally simple. A man she’d never seen before came to her homeroom. He was dressed in sharp business attire and wore a discreet head mounted display in his glasses. He started at the beginning of the alphabet and walked from student to student. The lucky few heard their name and were given a quick gesture to go to the front of the room. The others just heard their name, then sat and cried, even the boys. She was near the end of the alphabet for her room, “Galt, John, Gomez, Francis” the seats in front of her were not picked, then it was “Gonzales, Sarah.” She looked up, the man gestured and she, unsteadily, almost in a dream, walked to the front of the class. She didn’t hear him as he went through the rest of her homeroom.
The man walked to the front of the room and told the three students who stood there to go to the principal’s office. While the apt’s were equal opportunity tests there weren’t many chosen from her school. Mr. Guezman was waiting there for them. He said, “Fifteen chosen. That’s the most we’ve ever had.” The other 3000 students would have to fare as best they could.
The fifteen of them nervously waited for their interviews. Being selected on the tests was just the first step. They had to show that the tests weren’t an outlier in conversation with the interviewer. If anything were more humiliating than not being selected, it was being selected and then rejected at this step. Fortunately, the tests were usually accurate, but it wasn’t uncommon to find a few teen-aged bodies floating in the bay, below one of the bridges after this step.
The man who announced their results briskly strode past them and into Mr. Guezman’s office. They could hear him as he took off his eyewear and said, “Damn, these things always make me a bit sick. I’ll need your room.”
“Yes sir.” Mr. Guezman briskly stood up, almost saluted and left. He shut the door behind him and none of the fifteen could hear or see what was happening behind it.
The man opened the door and called out a name. It’s holder went in and after a few minutes, left. Eventually, after what seemed forever, he called, “Ms. Gonzales.”
Sarah stood, uncertain of what she should do. This was the first time she’d been addressed as an adult, Ms. Gonzales, not Sarah. The man smiled at her and said, “Please come in, I won’t bite you. I promise.”
She walked in and sat in the chair in front of the desk. The man walked around the desk and sat in Mr. Guezman’s seat. He had set up a visual link to the machine beside him. He smiled again, and said, “Nervous? I was when I was your age.”
Sarah stuttered out, “Yes.”
“Don’t be.” He pulled up a file on his display and started to read it. As he read a frown creeped over his face. She could hear him mutter, “This is going to be difficult.” Then he looked up and the frown vanished. It was replaced by an impassive stillness. “It seems, Sarah, that you shouldn’t be here. These results.”
The machine beside him spoke, “Mr. Anderson. Please. I don’t make that kind of mistake. What seems to be the matter.”
The proceeded to discuss her as if she weren’t there.
“She doesn’t seem to have the depth we require. She is decent in logic and is highly imaginative, but.”
Sarah drifted off into her own world.
Lord Pershore pulled his sword and stealthily approached the highwaymen. They bound Lady Sarah Jane Gonzales and were ready to carry her off to their lair, a run-down public house near the Bath road. Then they would have their way with her.
“Ms. Gonzales, pay attention, please.” It was that man again. She stood and said, “Well if I’ve failed, I’ve failed. I’ll just go now.”
“No. You haven’t. We’ve found the error. It looks like someone from the resistance has been at work. You don’t know anyone in the mutual impedance society?”
“What?”
“A bunch of misfits, terrorists who do not like modern society.”

A Dance at Prospect House.

 This is the first half of the chapter I’m working on in the steampunk novel the Mysterious Mr. Willis. Still not sure how far to go into the details of steam engines. (Treveithick’s got to 145 psi+- or 10 atm+- which was pretty darn good for a wrought iron boiler. Mr. Willis will have to do better by a fair margin for his turbine.)
This is also the first chapter where Major Hogan and Mr. Willis lock horns. They’re sort of “sparing for wind” so far in this chapter, but things will develop.

A Dance at Prospect House.

The announcement letters arrived on Monday. The Child’s were finally having a dance at their mansion just outside of Reading, Prospectpark place. The ball would be in honor of the local militia and the imminent reconstitution of the second division of the 62nd foot in Devizes. These brave men were all that stood between Napoleon’s hordes and English civilization. Ample opportunities would be available for men of good character and sound body to sign up and join their brave comrades. There would be martial music and country games for the common folk during the day followed by a civilized evening for the gentry in the evening. Weather permitting, the affair would start at on Saturday morning and feature a balloon ascent from the wide field that spread below the house.
Early Tuesday morning, Marianne broke her fast with the guest at her home, Major Hogan. While her Monday had been one of chores broken by anticipation after receiving her invitation, his had been one of accompanying Henry as he explored his new parish. Having carefully buttered his roll and spread it with jam, he paused before eating it to ask Marianne, “What do you do for entertainment around here?”
“I don’t know. I like to walk. We could explore the countryside.”
“Is that all? How boring.”
“Boring? Maybe for you, but I haven’t had time to be bored yet. Ruth and I must go to Reading soon, to furbish our gowns for the ball. They suffered sadly on the trip from London.”
“Fabrics? I suppose I could accompany you to the milliner’s, that’s if you don’t wish to walk along the river.”
“I would love to walk along the river, but.”
“But what?”
“There’s something odd going on upstream. I found a warning sign last time I tried to walk there.”
“Is that all?”
“A balloon, and someone knocked me out.”
“Knocked you out?”
“With a chemical. It sort of smelt like cheap gin, only not quite. It was sweeter.”
“Interesting. If you’ll excuse me.” Major Hogan left and a returned in a few minutes with a small bottle that contained a clear liquid. He put a tiny drop on a napkin and gave it to Marianne. “Did it smell like this?”
“Why, yes! That’s the smell exactly. What is it?” Her head swam from the small amount she inhaled.
“Ether. Dehydrated alcohol. It makes people unconscious.”
Marianne frowned, “But why? Why me?”
“Evidently you were about to discover something you shouldn’t.” Major Hogan gave her a serious look, then said, “There is something dangerous afoot. It could be treason. One reason I’m here is to investigate it.”
“What?”
“A secret Bonapartist camp. The French are a dangerous and subtle foe. This Frenchman you saw, Mr. Fournier, was he a short chap with black hair?”
“No. He was short, but brown-haired, and he had an impressive mustache.”
“Then he’s not the man I’m thinking of. Shall we try a stroll upstream to Goring this morning?”
“I would love it. We can stop at the Cross Keys and see if Millie can come.”
“Millie?”
“Miss Ellis, the inn keeper’s daughter. She’s a bit common, but likes to walk with me. She knows the countryside and is great fun otherwise.”
“If you insist.”
“Major Hogan, I will not go walking with you without a chaperon. What would people think?”
“That you were extremely fortunate.”
“That I was fast, and I’m not. Besides, I’m the vicar’s sister and must set a good example for the community.”
Major Hogan was less than thrilled with the idea, but agreed.
They walked to the Cross Keys and asked Mr. Ellis if his daughter was interested in a walk, ideally upstream towards Goring. Before he could answer, Millie popped her head in and said, “I’d love to, but you’ll have to give me a few minutes to finish hanging out my washing. This is such a nice day that I washed my aprons.”
“Are you sure I can’t help you?”
“No, Miss Milton. It isn’t your place. Besides that, I think the gallant Major desires your company – not my father’s.” She smiled at Marianne, curtsied and started up the stairs.
Major Hogan caught the hint, and said, “Miss Milton, why don’t you help your friend, or at least keep her company. The faster she finishes the sooner we can walk.”
“If you don’t mind.” Marianne called after Millie, “Let me help.” Then she started up the stairs after her. Millie waited, then when she caught up said, “I’m glad you came. This is much more fun with a friend.” Marianne asked, “Where are you hanging them?”
“On the roof?”
“It’s out of the way, with plenty of wind and sun.”
Millie pushed open a hatch and they climbed out onto the roof. They attached the aprons to the line and started back down. Marianne didn’t notice the flag dip and raise on a house to the north of town, nor did she see the rider start off for the park. Millie did.
Once back at the bar, Millie asked Major Hogan, “I hope my father hasn’t been tedious.”
“Nay lass. We’ve had an interesting and informative discussion. He says that the recruiting should be good over towards Wallingford or up near Dorchester.”
Marianne said, “Good. Now should we go for a walk. I’d like to explore upstream if we could.”
Millie replied, “I don’t see why we shouldn’t.”
They followed the Oxford Road and then when it veered away from the Thames, the river bank path. Unlike last time there were no warning signs or strange noises. Indeed, it was a thoroughly boring walk. Boring that is, until they were about half-way to Goring where they met Michael and Mr. Willis. Mr. Willis and his companion were carrying fishing rods and working their way downstream. When they met, Mr. Willis bowed and said, “Miss Milton, how fortunate that we met. I was hoping to see you soon, at least before this Saturday’s fete at Prospectpark House.”
She curtsied to him and said, “Are you going to it?”
“Going?” He laughed, “I’m one of the main attractions, at least during the afternoon. I’m hoping to dance in the evening with you, that is if Major Hogan can spare you for a dance?”
Major Hogan shot Mr. Willis a venomous glance, then said, “I think Miss Milton will be fully occupied.”
“Oh well, I’m sorry to hear that. I don’t believe we have been introduced.”
Marianne said, “I’m so so sorry. Mr. Willis, this is Major Hogan.”
Major Hogan gave his new acquaintance a short stiff bow, which Mr. Willis returned. Mr. Willis said, “Major Hogan, now where have I heard that name?”
“I’m raising the 2nd division of the 62nd foot.”
“That’s right. In Devizes in a few weeks. Dashed exciting, what. Why are you in Pangbourne?”
“I am a friend of Reverend Milton.”
Mr. Willis looked from the Major to Marianne and then back again. Then he said, “Oh, I see. Still, I intend to have a good time at the dance even if I cannot pay you attention Miss Milton. There should be plenty of partners and I’m in the dire need of diversion.” He paused, “As is Michael.”
Marianne asked Mr. Willis, “What exactly do you do here?”, and Major Hogan listened carefully to his response.
“Not much. Right now I’m looking for a good place to catch some Dace or other coarse fish.”
“You said you were one of the attractions in the afternoon, so you must do more than that.”
“Since you ask.” He paused and looked at Michael. Michael nodded his head. Then Mr. Willis said, “I work on gases. I have ever since I was at university.”
“So?”
“We’re planning an ascension and as I’m the expert on gas, I get to fill the balloon.”
Major Hogan gave him a skeptical look, “No steam engines?”
“Steam engines?” Mr. Willis looked around himself and then said in a quiet conspiratorial voice, “We’ll have a steam engine and things like that. A copy of Trevithick’s puffing devil if you must know. But please keep that quiet, it’s quite a secret and we don’t want to spoil the surprise.”
“The surprise?”
“She, I guess technically, it moves by itself. We’ve made a few changes in the design and can move a little faster than the nine miles an hour Mr. Treveithick achieved.”
Major Hogan asked, “What changes?”
“Now that would be telling. Patent applied for and all that. Still she does well enough. Scares all the horses though.”
“If you say so. Now if you’ll excuse us, we were headed upstream, to Goring.”
“You won’t get far that way. The bridge is out.”
“What bridge?”
“Over the stream at Basildon. It’s too big to jump across. Best to take the Oxford road until you’re past the little village, then cut down to river if you want.”
Marianne asked, “Are you sure? I so much want to explore the river bank.”
“That’s the way we came isn’t it, Micheal?”
Micheal nodded. Mr. Willis continued, “Still if you wish, we’ll escort you there.”
The combined party started upstream. It wasn’t long before Major Hogan asked Mr. Willis, “Why haven’t you signed up?”
“Signed up, for what?”
“The army or at least the militia. Are you scared?”
“No. It’s just I’ve been rather busy.”
“Busy? Isn’t that what they all say?”
“I supposed, but I really have been detained with other activities.”
“What other activities?”
Micheal watched Mr. Willis struggle for the best words, then relaxed when he found them. “This and that, but fishing mostly.” He left unsaid that he was fishing with explosives and not a line.
“Fishing?”
“Yes. A noble pursuit, fishing.”
They arrived at the mouth of a small stream that fed into the Thames. It opened into a wide area away from the bank, where two run-down buildings served as boat houses. They conveniently screened the rest of the wide area from view. As Mr. Willis said, the stream was too wide for jumping. The whole scene projected an air of neglect and decay.
Marianne asked, “Could we try fording it?”
Millie replied, “Swimming more likely Miss Milton. I think we must turn back.”
Micheal and Mr. Willis escorted them back to where they’d met. Then Mr. Willis bowed to the two woman and said, “Delighted to have assisted you, but we must stick the line in the water if we’re to catch anything.” They curtsied in return. Then he offered his hand to Major Hogan, and said, “See you some other time, perhaps, when there are fewer,” he paused, “ah distractions, say what?”