Asmiov's Science Fiction 2002-01 by Dell Magazine Authors

Author:Dell Magazine Authors [Authors, Dell Magazine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Magazine, 2012
Published: 2010-05-22T22:00:00+00:00

* * *

“You said you saw someone,” Tasha prodded.

“What's that?”

“You said you ran into someone at the party.” Then she realized what Jack was doing. “Hey, this is a vacation. Quit working.” She said, “Darling,” with a tight, impatient voice, setting her hand over his closed eyes. “Forget the world. Forget humanity. Pay attention to me, all right?”

He felt her hand, its heat and the elegant long bones of her fingers, but he couldn't see anything except what was being displayed inside his fancy eyes. Even when he opened his eyes, he saw a string of images harvested from Committee-only files. Shutting down the eyes’ high-functions took time. By law, what he was watching couldn't be stored in any form, regardless of encryption.

“Are you back?” Tasha inquired.

Eventually Jack could say, “I am now.”

“So what happened at the party?”

“I signed autographs, talked to old fans.” He mentioned the man who hadn't read anything new in years. “They were the same faces as always, just older. Tired and fewer. I still feel like a new kid on the block.”

“You're not,” she replied.

“Thank you,” he said.

“What I mean,” Tasha told him, “is that you've accomplished a lot since you gave up writing.” She showed him a good stare, reminding him, “They're the little people here. Not you.”

He decided to shift the subject, admitting, “The people wearing the costumes are younger, I'm pretty sure.”

“Yeah, well. That's reasonable.”

“A Smiler had me worried.” He shrugged, admitting, “It stared at me with those huge black eyes, and someone inside doesn't quite approve of our current policies. Judging by the schoolyard gesture.”

“Did he threaten you?”

“No, just complained.” Then he made himself look at his wife's face, reminding her, “We're safe here. If I didn't think so, I wouldn't have come. And I certainly wouldn't have brought you and the boys.”

“Why wouldn't it be safe?” she asked, angry that he even raised the issue. “Your own security people looked at the hotel and the convention's organization. How many times were we scanned between Quito and here?”

“Right,” he said.

“The newest security features,” she mentioned.

Watching everyone, yes. Even an old-fashioned ass-kicking was pretty much impossible.

“You're being paranoid,” she warned him.

“Which is why I've got this job.” He offered a weak smile and halfway laughed. “I earn the big money because I'm better than most people at being worried about trivial things.”

His wife watched him with admiration and with doubt. Then, knowing what was best, she redirected the conversation. “When you got here, first thing, you said that you bumped into someone at the party. So who was it?”

“Oh, yeah. Sam Timmons.”

“Yeah? How's he doing?”

“Looks prosperous, as always. Happy. Fit.” Jack laughed quietly, adding, “In that order, I would guess.”

“Where's he getting his money?”

“Consulting. Investments. Some hybrid of the two.”

“Good for him.” Tasha sat on the bed beside Jack. It was late, their boys in their rooms and hard asleep. She was dressed for bed. She looked tired and impatient and probably a little horny. Hotel rooms had that effect on her. “What were you watching just now? Something about Sam?”

He said, “No.

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