Albert Sawyer in 2080: Albert Sawyer, #2

By Ian Eress

2080. Albert becomes a successful businessman, welcomes the Atagan survivors, and takes care of his young son, Galileo, but his cruel enemies have been busy too since 2070. Unfortunately, Galileo turns out not to be a normal boy, and this makes Albert's struggle to find love even tougher.

Slowly the terrific APS loses control as a combined force opposes it, using numerical superiority and advanced technology to full advantage. Albert suffers from the growing levels of stress he experiences and the related gradual deterioration of his mental faculties. However, he continues doing research under difficult circumstances.

After many chaotic battles, Albert starts to lose hope, yet... he keeps hoping that his moral values and technical knowledge will make the required difference in the end. But the odds are stacked high against him, ITA, and the APS.

Read this exciting science fiction adventure spanning multiple star systems.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ian Eress
• Release date: Mar 2, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393832881

Ian Eress

Born in the seventies. Average height. Black hair. Sometimes shaves. Black eyes. Nearsighted. Urban. MSc. vim > Emacs. Mac.

Book preview

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

ALBERT SAWYER IN 2080

First edition. March 2, 2021.

Copyright © 2021 Ian Eress.

ISBN: 978-1393832881

Written by Ian Eress.

For Caitlyn

Ian Eress

ALBERT SAWYER in 2080

—

EARTH in PERIL

Volume Two

v 2.2

Table of Contents

BOOK ONE EARTH

PART I GUESTS

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER 1 CONTACT

CHAPTER 2 SULTAN

CHAPTER 3 MUMBAI

CHAPTER 4 HORSES

CHAPTER 5 HOTEL

CHAPTER 6 TRIAL

CHAPTER 7 ATAGANS

CHAPTER 8 CHEMISTRY

CHAPTER 9 HENRIETTA

PART II PEACE COALITION

CHAPTER 10 STOCK MARKET

CHAPTER 11 TWINS

CHAPTER 12 WAGES

CHAPTER 13 UPLOAD

CHAPTER 14 ARCHIVE

CHAPTER 15 EXPLORER

CHAPTER 16 NIGHTCLUB

CHAPTER 17 BIKES

CHAPTER 18 HUNT

PART III CLONES

CHAPTER 19 BANKS

CHAPTER 20 SOCIAL MEDIA

CHAPTER 21 PARANOID

CHAPTER 22 RETROSPECTIVE

CHAPTER 23 SOCIAL

CHAPTER 24 SUPPER

CHAPTER 25 PAINTBALL

CHAPTER 26 CLONES

CHAPTER 27 WOODS

BOOK TWO SOLAR SYSTEM

PART I MOON

CHAPTER 1B WORMHOLE

CHAPTER 2B LESSONS

CHAPTER 3B MENTOR

CHAPTER 4B URZUR

CHAPTER 5B ANDROMEDA

CHAPTER 6B CRYSTALS

CHAPTER 7B NEURODUST

CHAPTER 8B REJUVENATION

CHAPTER 9B WAVEJ

PART II MARS

CHAPTER 10B THOHNUTH

CHAPTER 11B ORGANOIDS

CHAPTER 12B DPC

CHAPTER 13B FORTRESS

CHAPTER 14B VIRUS

CHAPTER 15B COMPENSATION

CHAPTER 16B WARSHIPS

CHAPTER 17B SUPER CROPS

CHAPTER 18B SLAVE

PART III VENUS

CHAPTER 19B ROWING

CHAPTER 20B SABOTAGE

CHAPTER 21B XNA

CHAPTER 22B PEACE

CHAPTER 23B GOLIATH

CHAPTER 24B LOANS

CHAPTER 25B ARREST

CHAPTER 26B PERP

CHAPTER 27B FRIEND

BOOK THREE QEERAV

PART I EWME, IVEST, AND JAVIMAG

CHAPTER 1C PLATOON

CHAPTER 2C KING-PHILOSOPHER

CHAPTER 3C ART

CHAPTER 4C AI

CHAPTER 5C ELDER

CHAPTER 6C NEEDS

CHAPTER 7C HOMELESS

CHAPTER 8C UMBRELLA

CHAPTER 9C FAMILY

PART II EAST AND WEST EQIVAMEG

CHAPTER 10C SINNERS

CHAPTER 11C FITNESS

CHAPTER 12C FISHING

CHAPTER 13C DEATH

CHAPTER 14C FEEDBACK

CHAPTER 15C SPACE

CHAPTER 16C THEORY

CHAPTER 17C COLONY

CHAPTER 18C JURY

PART III BATTLE

CHAPTER 19C PANIC

CHAPTER 20C CIRCLES

CHAPTER 21C CORPORATE

CHAPTER 22C LADDER

CHAPTER 23C WPU

CHAPTER 24C CURRENCY

CHAPTER 25C BELLIGERENT

CHAPTER 26C SMURFS

CHAPTER 27C INSURANCE

ABOUT THE BOOK

2080. Albert becomes a successful businessman, welcomes the Atagan survivors, and takes care of his young son, Galileo, but his cruel enemies have been busy too since 2070. Unfortunately, Galileo turns out not to be a normal boy, and this makes Albert’s struggle to find love even tougher.

Slowly the terrific APS loses control as a combined force opposes it, using numerical superiority and advanced technology to full advantage. Albert suffers from the growing levels of stress he experiences and the related gradual deterioration of his mental faculties. However, he continues doing research under difficult circumstances.

After many chaotic battles, Albert starts to lose hope, yet... he keeps hoping that his moral values and technical knowledge will make the required difference in the end. But the odds are stacked high against him, ITA, and the APS.

Read this exciting science fiction adventure spanning multiple star systems.

BOOK ONE EARTH

Sonnet 19: When I consider how my light is spent

By John Milton

When I consider how my light is spent,

   Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide,

   And that one Talent which is death to hide

   Lodged with me useless, though my Soul more bent

To serve therewith my Maker, and present

   My true account, lest he returning chide;

   Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?

   I fondly ask. But patience, to prevent

That murmur, soon replies, "God doth not need

   Either man’s work or his own gifts; who best

   Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state

Is Kingly. Thousands at his bidding speed

   And post o’er Land and Ocean without rest:

   They also serve who only stand and wait."

PART I GUESTS

Fall seven times, stand up eight.

-Japanese Proverb

PROLOGUE

Galileo said to his followers: ‘I owe my life and genes to my father and mother and their fathers and mothers before them but more to the Gods for living well’.

The Life and Philosophy of the Holy Prophet Galileo, by Baroness Iseasan, Mayor of New Atagan

The HFC's attempts to rein in AI but now that GNY is no longer under their control we must 'educate' the citizens of GNY.

-Part of a memo from President Rhodes to Vishal D, January 19, 2071

NEW ATLANTA, FORMER US

SUNDAY, JANUARY 7, 2080

Heinrich and a youthful clone from GNY grin and vanish in thin air, not here nor there. The leader of New Atlanta, Gottlieb, lies face down on his mahogany desk in a fresh pool of his own blood. Is this the beginning of the end or the end of the beginning?

CHAPTER 1 CONTACT

I do not fear large armies; I fear smart leaders; I do not fear populous nations; I fear their technology.

-Emperor Gluk, leader of Atagan

Please figure out whether we can get away with psychopath filters for our consumer-facing websites.

-Part of a memo from Albert to Jared

ALBERT

QEERAVSTAN, FORMER USSR

SUNDAY, JANUARY 7, 2080

Noch in Qeeravstan in a secret opaque megabuilding, reminding me of the luxurious headquarters of a grandega corporation, reminding me of Qeerav Prime. Another busy day for me and I had barely tempo to jog in the morning. I beamed directly from a fundraiser in Jakarta, Awakenistan's neighbors, where I donated ten megabucks on behalf of the Victoria Sawyer Trust ‘cause of yet another flood. Getting a worldwide climate control remains a pipe dream.

Peeps still don't like me, I say. I'm rolling out mini-UBI, donating to charities worldwide, but...

Chap, what about the cosmetic sciences? Jared, who laboris part-tempo as a consultant for me, asks.

The True3D vidwalls gehort him say that and display epilepsy-inducing ads for weight loss products. He’s been extolling the virtues of the 1990s, Star Wars, and Star Trek for hours. Also, went on a rant about microfluidic cooling of computer chips, embedded channels close to the transistors.

I laugh and heads turn in my direction. Won't become prettier than Sue. Anyway, pheromones might be the better option. Sue is his unofficial girlfriend and a clone of a supermodel from the 2010s. A long story.

What happened to that bird you were dating?

Spent the day with her yesterday in an expensive hotel, I say and pause. No chemistry between us I'm afraid. I haven’t been with a woman for a long, long tempo, but I don’t care. Superhuman.

Jared says nothing and rigardus at Captain Galagat instead, who sports a Berfsteel sword, and a holstered laser gun that laboris better than a ten tempos bigger flamethrower. Other Qeeravstanis are armed to the colored teeth as welp. They must fear the Atagans as my nose also tells me.

A 24-foot tall pterodactyl-like figure emerges from a 4-dimensional wormhole in the middle of the grandega enclosed structure and then, one by one, eleven more. Most sport bronze skin and need special breathing machines ‘cause oxygen will kill ‘em. Their smell indescribable and unnatural, they wear stealthsuits but naturally don't need ‘em to fly.

—I'm Emperor Gluk from Atagan,— an a-translator says.

Many APS members including Vishal rigardu with slightly open mouths. Are the Atagans as surprised as we are? Hard to tell.

—Welcome to Qeeravstan, Your Highness,— Captain Galagat says, also dubbed by an a-translator.

—Thank you. We’re running out of resources on Atagan so it’s of the utmost importance to get my people here on short notice.—

Your Highness, we’ve safe sites all over the Solar System for you, Vishal says in his deep voco.

—I heard one of your boys gave certain Qeeravs a deadly weapon that can kill through high-dimensional bridges,— Emperor Gluk says. —That’s disappointing, to say the least.—

He means the black hole guns in the Solar and Qeerav systems. Involuntarily peeps glance in my direction, and Emperor G focuses on me. How do I put a spin on this one?

I'm Albert Sawyer, Your Highness, I say. It's my fault that the Eqivamegs on Qeerav Prime got hold of that superweapon. Yup, better admit what I can’t deny.

We don't know for certain, Your Highness, Vishal says rapidly in his deep voco. But yes, the Eqivamegs might have that capability.

The Eqivamegs live on two continents of Qeerav Prime: the home planet of the Qeeravs. Do the Atagans know that? I don’t view it as my duty to explain.

—Well, deal with it,— Emperor G says. —What about all these murders of Earth leaders?—

That's a matter for the police, Your Highness, Rhodes, one of my investors and a former president, says. You're safe on bloody Earth since nobody knows about your arrival.

—Atagans need a planet for ourselves because of our pulmonary systems,— Emperor G says. —The situation you’re sketching is unacceptable. I can't have Atagans divided, not with Republican populists hiding amongst us.—

A six-seconds silence whilst eyes dart around. Through neurochips we communicate cyberpathically which might leak out because of involuntary subvocalisation. Can the Atagans detect that?

—I'm Prince Tulan," another bronze Atagan says. —We'll work something out. Our sick and dying must go to the hospital on the Moon asap.—

Vishal rubs his dark-skinned hands. That can be arranged. Another day, another project.

An awkward start to say the least, but it could have been worse.

i.

The Holy Galileo taught his disciples to love unconditionally like the Gods but also to fight evil for that is the one True Path.

The Life and Philosophy of the Holy Prophet Galileo, by Baroness Iseasan, Mayor of New Atagan

The rate at which we discover habitable planets is now aligned to improvements in computer hardware. Unfortunately, sending von Neumann probes to all those worlds is currently impossible.

-From Habitable planets, APS L2 Wiki, last edited by Albert S

ALBERT

YANGBRIDGE, AWAKENISTAN

MONDAY, JANUARY 8, 2080

Early morning in my Yangbridge home, the living room: standard with unremarkable furniture in lavender, teal, and violet. Gazillions of paintings, one made by the DPC art professor, Genet Liu. As always I’m ready to go, after meditating, a morning jog, and the other things I love doing after waking up because experts say they are good for you. However, Galileo is up to no good, and he made Marvin, his little tedbot, distract me. Obviously, Marvin knows better than to do that.

Galileo, brush your teeth and eat your breakfast, I say. "We’ll be late for skoliwol. Leave Kuneho alone. Did you hor what I said?"

Galileo says nothing but waddles away exaggeratedly. Why does he have to do that? Meanwhile, I feed white Kuneho, Victoria’s rabbit, a mid-sized carrot.

Galileo runs back after a minute and 29 seconds. Papa, may I bring Kuneho to skoliwol?

Not after you set the dog of that poor girl on fire, I say. No can do. Had to spend the whole Christmas apologizing to her parents. He doesn't hate girls or dogs for that matter.

She lied. Galileo pouts. I never touched her Barney pooch.

Blaming others is worse than lying. You know that, right? Sometempos I regret not forcing my Book of Rules on him.

Galileo rigardus at the fascinating floor and drags the petite toes of his right leg over his left ankle. I’m telling the truth.

I smile to not appear like a mean ogre. Kay, giving you the benefit of the doubt. Clap. Now hurry up. I check the status of my many businesses on my glorious vidwall dashboard: scores of lights green and kay.

Papa, may I have an Orzony robony? Galileo asks at the breakfast table.

For the thousandth tempo, not if you misbehave. Galileo tried throwing tantrums, crying, and other devious tactics, but I’m not that easy to persuade. Or am I going too far?

I watched mama’s vlogs yesterday on her website, Galileo says slowly.

That’s his new trick: talking about Victoria to soften me up. He can go on for hours like the tiny sadist that he is. It will soon blow over.

I grin, arms crossed. Know what you’re doing. Won’t laboris. It kinda did, but I must remain strong.

We fly through the clean air of Yangbridge in the best dream aircar I could find (put self-serving branding on it for SmartInvesd). Traffic (hydrogen and electric aircars) gets worse and worse by the day ‘cause peeps from Peace Coalition countries continue requesting Awakenistani citizenship. That comes with monthly UBI, and allied leaders such as the late Gottlieb complain about the brain drain. It doesn’t help that small-scale wars of weeks or months break out all over the world as often as Galileo gets in trouble.

Even at top speed, it takes me 13 minutes to bring Galileo to his special skoliwol for gifted children: only 1% of kids can even apply for entrance exams. And 1% of those get selected. Of course, Galileo doesn’t know about tempo-saving w-holes yet.

What am I going to do with you, Galileo? I ask. You get in a quagmire each day.

Galileo pleis with a pink toe tarantula made from nanodust. One incredibly busy day, the little devil stole my superconducting ring, and I’m 99% certain he hacked computer systems he has no business snooping in. I made him swear not to tell anyone about my ring.

I let out a little sigh. Asked you something. He has bionic ears like myself but also has epic levels of stubborness.

Galileo shrugs, a smile on his lips. Buy me an Orzony robony or one of those bitching hoverboards.

So many things wrong with this statement. I flash a grimace. Can’t you talk like a polite boy. Like Tony. Tony goes to Galileo's skoliwol.

Galileo guffaws. Tony is a nerd. He hides dirty pictures in his bedroom.

Um, that he does. Don’t copy that; only the way he sprechs.

Whatever.

I grab my nanodust ring from Galileo, thinking of guinea pigs. Is this whole thing a social experiment?

Guinea pigs in a social experiment

What rhymes with guinea pigs? Should it be plural: experiments?

ii.

The Prophet Galileo told his people that the Gods don’t care about possessions. And he himself gave away his immense wealth to the poor on Earth and Yuater.

The Life and Philosophy of the Holy Prophet Galileo, by Baroness Iseasan, Mayor of New Atagan

After the CEO of Leat Unlimited stepped down in 2070, our Albert has been bidding for the successful company until finally succeeding to buy it in 2079.

-From Leat Unlimited, APS L2 Wiki, last edited by Adrian A

ALBERT

YANGBRIDGE, AWAKENISTAN

TUESDAY, JANUARY 9, 2080

A meeting in my Yangbridge office and Adam agreed to visit as an external consultant.  The space has DreamUHD vidwalls, hidden cameras I'm not supposed to know about, and digital whiteboards covered mostly in my mad scribblings, more suitable for a busy professor than the CEO of multiple companies. I don’t have that many face-to-face meetings these days ‘cause of the new and improved OniWeb. I asked the tedbots to collect as many 1990s paraphernalia as possible to appease the visiting VIP. Movie posters and mugs mostly.

I lean back in my chair. For the Heart of Humanity. SmartInvesd and WormChipz are doing fine. When are we gonna catch the awesome asteroid we all dream of?

Out of stabbing distance, Henrietta, dressed in a black shirt and blue jeans, rolls her critical eyes. For the Heart of Humanity. Stop pretending that we’re more than puppet heads here to keep you company.

Her attitude took a dramatic turn after Vishal started his campaign. And it didn’t help that I supported him but to help my own cause. I tap my fingers close to a planted microphone to be annoying.

Isaac, my twin, smiles. Sporting a bushy beard and mustache to distinguish himself from me, he wears a white shirt and light blue jeans. Bro, don’t know about that, but the Qeerav tourists have been spending money like nobody’s business. Isaac married a nice billionaire’s daughter and didn’t make a big fuss like Henrietta. Weird that.

Uwe, thirty-something with German parents, chuckles. Ocean and Mars mining proceed... It’s all perfect.

We laugh and Ibrahim, also in his thirties, says, You aren’t even in charge of that.

Oh, what was I doing then? Uwe smiles wide.

Don’t know but Fiafi...or whatever her forks are called can do everything by themselves, BD, shoulder-length haro, says hastily. She wed the handsome CEO’s son of a grandega New Delhi enterprise and never stops talking about how she wants to divorce him. K (Kalpana) says her sister exaggerates, yet I doubt it. K and BD, the g-daughters of Vishal, sport a similar phenotype: Indian but slightly lighter skin than Vishal, long haro extending halfway their upper bodies.

Your Awesssomenesss,  our advertisssing branch isss earning 40% more than lassst year. Stefanie, Uwe’s sister, hisses jokingly. But Fiafi or Amaterasu could’ve told you that too.

I plei with my pen on the table. Can’t we pretend that we actually laboris? We shouldn't rely on AI or clones or good fortune.

We can discuss how to crush business rivals with small monopolies, K says, ribelante e-cig in hand. She married a guy from Mumbai and has a five-year-old daughter.

Kay, I know that quiet tedbots can do more than housework like simple maids, I say. Don’t expect a raise unless you contribute. Any ideas about what K said? Raises are just a glorified form of bribes. Why even mention them?

Henrietta shrugs, in an obvious attempt to antagonize me. "This is pointless. We’re fighting poverty and all that..."

Everybody watches expectantly except for Adam, originally from the former US and tall Caucasian. As he’s bionic he must know about the hidden mikes, but he lets nothing on.

Adam, don’t you agree? Henrietta asks. Albert does his thing because of OMAU and whatever makes him special. And so do all the other OMAU users... Still don’t understand where they came from.

You’re asking too much from me, Adam drawls. I can’t give you advice. There’s no absolute truth, only what you make of it.

On a practical note, I think we ought to have a separate meeting about our strongest competitors, I say. Can have it over the OniWeb, and I’m not forcing you to attend. But I can nag like Galileo. Should I recruit his assistance?

Your kindnesss blindsss...us, Stefanie says and mock bows.

She thinks she's more mature than me. I ignore her. Let’s talk UBI after lunch.

Nobody objects, and we discuss recent events such as Gottlieb’s murder and the arrival of the Atagans. Are the two related?

Guinea pigs in a social experiment

Mad scientists observe with total merriment

Nah. I want something more sinister.

iii.

The Prophet Galileo lived a simple life after the Gods spoke to him but not directly, for he doubted his senses which he said was natural.

The Life and Philosophy of the Holy Prophet Galileo, by Baroness Iseasan, Mayor of New Atagan

We have 3,808 'children' of Fenkel growing in a secret Qeeravstani garden.

-From Verdetas, APS L2 Wiki, last edited by Barry F

ALBERT

YANGBRIDGE, AWAKENISTAN

TUESDAY, JANUARY 9, 2080

After lunch in our regular place, we reconvene in my office to discuss UBI like the pooh-bahs that we are. Smells of food still linger, however, only Adam, Isaac, and I can detect ‘em.

"Invited Adam as the godfather of the wonderful new idea of  'pseudo nationalization' through gradual shares acquisition," I say. Pseudo-socialist faux utopia.

The idea is simple, Adam drawls. We buy bits of the largest enterprises each second or even millisecond of the trading day. Now that Albert pushed for the revival of the stock market... Against my recommendation, I may add. The Peace Coalition agreed to invest in the scheme if Awakenistan and the AFB guarantees—

Read in the Awakenistani Morning that the Senate... BD says rapidly, is voting on that... and peeps worldwide worry about foreign interference.

Sounds like a game that Albert must be good in. Henrietta pouts.

Yeah, I love games. A soft knock and after I respond the semi-transparent door slides open, and a cute tedbot enters. Code 191.

This means that Galileo's teacher called. I excuse myself, and Adam starts talking about corporate greed and scarcity. Outside I answer the call, staring at an abstract painting in light colors. What did he do?

Galileo hacked a drone of his fellow student, Willis, a female teacher, says whilst coughing intermittently, and used it to mess with the other children. On the short side and in her late thirties, Willis sprechs with an east British accent.

You sound ill. I doubt she will accept my Govoreet.

It's nothing, Willis says. We can't handle Galileo. I don't know how to say this...

If Victoria was still alive, it would have been a different story. Get it. What if I send more tedbots to keep an eye on him? Marvin combs his haro.

No, we got plenty of those, Willis says. Galileo pulled his stunt in minutes. He picks locks. Climbs walls like a spider.

Lari and Adrian are into lockpicking, and Galileo inherited my physique so climbing is no big deal for him. The two Awakenistas can also remove keyloggers, but I’m able to do that myself too.

Can't babysit him, I say. Have important meetings and must travel all over the world. Can I let an AI take over?

I strongly suggest military school, Willis says and erupts in a lengthy cough.

The thought occurred to me, but I prefer Galileo not becoming a General like papa. How can I talk her out of it? Okay, actually that's the last thing on my mind.

Willis says nothing for a minute. I'm afraid Galileo can no longer attend this school. According to the rules, you’ve nine months to find an alternative.

But if you don't want him, nobody will. Kay, I am exaggerating.

Except for military schools.

We sprech for a while, however, Willis refuses to discuss other reasonable options.  I return to the meeting room where my team reached a consensus: we'll go into more debt (Ibrahim's face turned sour) to support Adam's initiative. In two minutes I explain what Willis told me.

You can homeschool Galileo, Henrietta says. If you, Isaac, aunt Marie, and I take turns teaching him.

And maybe Victoria's family but they kinda view me as the devil. Will that ever change?

Isaac grins like a naughty kid. Got nothing to do Monday.

Just spank him, BD blurts out. Spare the rod, spoil the child.

K rolls her intelligent eyeballs. That's fascist. Galileo is prolly just bored.

I am supposed to be a pacifist. Is a little slap on the wrist kay? How can he be bored? I ask. He's got wall-to-wall entertainment at his fingertips.

He doesn't sound like a bookworm, Stefanie says. Did he ask something from you? I always wanted a...

Typical. She forgot her triple s's. Her brother, Uwe, smiles as he prolly knows what it is she didn't say. Is Stefanie ashamed of something?

An Orzony robony, I say. If I give in, he'll walk over me until I retire. Since the Berfimmort treatment exists that might be never.

Henrietta guffaws. G-Kev gave you everything you wanted and more. You turned out alright, didn't you?

G-papas are supposed to do that. I shrug, avoiding Henrietta's smiling eyes.

Guinea pigs involved in a social experiment

We run through a sprawling maze

Mad scientists observe with total merriment

Almost there. One for the ages or at least for an afternoon.

Many ignorant unbelievers misinterpret the story about the Prophet Galileo, telling his loyal followers to bury their personal arms in Antarctica. They claim that it's irrational behavior instead of the holy will of the Gods.

The Life and Philosophy of the Holy Prophet Galileo, by Baroness Iseasan, Mayor of New Atagan

After the Brewers and X-org fled, GNY came in the hands of the Peace Coalition and was later ruled by temporary governments.

-From Siege of GNY, APS L1 Wiki, last edited by Vishal

VISHAL

GNY

MAY 18, 2072

Tom from Last Wave and Vishal met late at night in a quiet Drewbin's coffee shop, two years after the Thohnuths threatened Earth. They sat down nursing cups with strong black coffee at a beige table.

So you’re a night owl? Tom asked.

Vishal shrugged and grinned. I do what's needed when it's needed. We must get Albert and Agrippina to date. They already worked together, therefore, it shouldn't be an issue.

Agrippina is a fucking demanding woman I heard, Tom said. "Why the hell would you marry your genius boy off to a has-been? Plenty of princesses out there."

Albert shows no interest in them.

Tom cackled. I get it. You're after the gold-class genes. In my opinion, Agrippina's youngest sister, Livilla, is the prettiest of the three. She works as a manager directly under the new mayor.

In the background, a vidwall to Vishal’s right talked about the strike of construction workers in GNY. He had forgotten about that.

Not doing a good job, Vishal said in his deep voice. She’s all over the news.

Indeed Livilla appeared in front of the holo-cameras. The two men glanced at the vidwall for a moment.

Yeah, but if your boy marries her, you got an in, Tom said. Enough fucking influence to let GNY join the Peace Coalition.

Vishal smiled. It's for their own good. Can you arrange it, so that Albert and Livilla meet by accident? Asap please.

Certainly. Definitely. But as a selfish bastard, I require more than your gratitude.

Vishal massaged his dark-skinned chin. The APS or Awakenistan can make it worth your while. How does 50 grand pre-Inflation sound?

For fuck’s sake. More. Tom gestured and nodded suggestively.

60.

Tom scoffed. You serious or what? I have to arrange for Albert and Livilla to bump into each other in a romantic setting in the perfect mood. Do you think that's easy? Jeez.

70.

Finally, Livilla disappeared from the True3D vidwall to be replaced by breaking news about the Middle East. Vishal tuned it out.

"Look, I plan to have Livilla 'attacked'. Tom sighed. When Albert is around, so he can rescue her, and then let damn Mother Nature take it from there."

Or God. Vishal cocked his head. Strange plan. I'll give you 80 if you succeed. Another 20 if the two actually marry.

Deal. Tom extended a firm hand, and Vishal shook it.

"You'll want to send anonymous gifts to Livilla after the 'rescue', Tom said. Last Wave can do that for you."

Vishal shook his head. Too much. Albert shouldn't know about our involvement.

Well, we can figure out other ways to speed things up. Tom snickered.

Outside cicadas chirped, and Vishal peeked in that direction, but there was little to see.

Don't be nervous, Tom said. Nobody knows you're here.

How can you be certain that X-org operatives aren't watching us?

Vishal, they're hiding in the jungles of former Colombia. Last Wave has access to all GNY cameras. We got eyes everywhere in the city.

Good. When can you get the operation underway?

Two to three weeks, Tom said. Your boy tends to marry quickly, I heard. Same time next year, he'll be married, and Livilla will be pregnant at least.

Vishal raised his coffee cup. I'll toast to that.

No, not without alcohol. Tom produced a flask from an inside pocket.

Um, I got an alcohol problem, Vishal said in a shaking voice.

Oh yeah, totally forgot, Tom said, hands in pockets. It was in your file. I’m such an asshole. I apologize.

Yeah, right, Vishal thought.

CHAPTER 2 SULTAN

The Prophet Galileo saw the future, the past, and the present as one whole together with the infinite alternative paths, yet he proclaimed that there is only one True Path and he could see it clearly as a bright light on a beautiful day.

The Life and Philosophy of the Holy Prophet Galileo, by Baroness Iseasan, Mayor of New Atagan

The number of billionaires worldwide who supported the Victoria Sawyer Trust was 3 in 2071, 7 in 2072, 8 in 2073, and a steady increase of one billionaire annually since then. The count of millionaires donating to the VST has been increasing linearly as well.

-From Victoria Sawyer Trust, APS L2 Wiki, last edited by Albert S

ALBERT

YANGBRIDGE, AWAKENISTAN

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 10, 2080

Eggs in a black frying pan, black pepper, curry powder, dill, and Galileo stirs, a grimace plastered over his naughty face. After skoliwol I make him help Little Albert and Ayudante, our house tedbots. Marvin keeps a tough eye on the little flibbertigibbet.

The spacious kitchen has woks and cups and if Galileo gets in the mood for a tantrum, he can do a lot of damage. Must I step closer, just in case?

G-mama Katie talks about olden space food in the living room. For the Heart of Humanity. You could get anything really but because of zero-g there were still certain limitations.

Is it true that you staked out the building Livilla worked in? g-Kev asks. He’s going through an album of 116 Livilla-related photos on my newest rolltablet I bought three months ago.

Better not sprech about that with Little G around, I say. Bound to tell his stepsister. She doesn't care or understand yet.

G-Kev glances in the direction of the kitchen where the petite actor pretends he’s deaf. Not fooling me. Does G think I fell for it?

I can take Galileo off your hands at least once a week, g-mama Elena says.

Me too, aunt Marie says.

Appreciate the offer, I say, smiling, but you’ve no idea what kind of a devilish villain he’s. An official reprimand for the youthful delinquent is in order. Expelled. I seldom gehort the word.

Find him a fun hobby, g-papa Richard says.

I smile. Crochet or knitting. He clearly hates cooking. Says that martial arts are Barney ‘cause he can beat up kids his age without fancy tricks. He has an unfair advantage. What can I do about it?

What about athletics? g-mama Katie asks.

I glance towards the kitchen. Loves showing off. Someone will ask questions, and he zapped two kids this year using his bioelectrickery. Welp on his way to a brilliant criminal career.

I laugh but soon stop ‘cause nobody joins. Isaac strokes his bushy beard and adjusts his sunglasses. G-Kev puts a 1990s song on: a phase he and other senior APS members are going through.

Bro, I had lots of fun pleing Dominus au Anulus in Tarctica, Isaac says. If he’s so good with computers, why not let him code his own games?

The flibbertigibbet can’t sit still. I sigh. Unless it’s to cause mayhem. It's like he was born in a zoo. What did I do wrong?

And...psychologists? Henrietta asks, whilst pleing with her haro.

The specialized shrinks say that Little G is normal with respect to mental health, I say. Need kryptonite to slow him down. Hey, maybe something like that exists. Where can I find it?

G-Kev giggles. Let’s put our thinking hats on. What can we do on short notice? We got money so let’s hire the best experts.

Did that. I frown. Is that a good solution?

What about a private school? G-Kev strokes his pale and soft chin. Heck, we can find first-class teachers and start our own.

We guffaw, and Galileo acknowledges us with a dirty glare. Us, privileged aristocrats, can do whatever we want.

That sonojs Barney, but desperate tempos ask for desperate measures, I say. What if Galileo meets a nice girl his age? Is he too young for that?

G-papa Richard whips out a paper notebook. So we need nine professionals.

Why? I raise a critical eyebrow. I’d say ten—two for each workday.

Is that enough? Henrietta grins. Make it three per day.

Kay, why not? Can’t lock up G with teachers, I say. He needs to be around kids his age. And they must be 'kay with pain.

Maybe that’s the problem, bro, Isaac says. He’s too smart and gets bored easily.

Guinea pigs involved in a social experiment

We run through a sprawling maze

Mad scientists observe with total merriment

They want to set the world ablaze

Is that too much?

i.

Boastful Atagans who can’t take good care of themselves can’t be trusted with armor or weapons. Why would anyone listen to them?

-Emperor Gluk, leader of Atagan

GNY Coin and GridCoin are now in a neck-to-neck race, but Masto is the clear cryptocurrency market leader.

-From GNY Coin, APS L2 Wiki, last edited by ‘Big Red’ Jared

ALBERT

YANGBRIDGE, AWAKENISTAN

THURSDAY, JANUARY 11, 2080

Vishal waves as I land the Whirlwind aircar on my driveway, returning from Galileo’s skoliwol. Galileo returns the greeting ‘cause the rascal respects and recognizes power, just not my own.

We’re going to Tarctica, Vishal says, smiling. The three of us.

What now? I narrow my intelligent peepers. Galileo is L5. And he has to be told to comb his haro until Marvin does it for him. I must make sandwiches.

The thing with telling kids about tarantulas appearing from thin air... Vishal says, grinning.

G, that was supposed to be a secret, I say. No sandwiches for him.

Galileo shrugs and thumbs his nifty rollphone that I didn't install a keylogger on like some peeps. He doesn't appear to be interested in girls yet. Why is that? Is it normal?

How are we going to travel? I ask. G can handle the cold, but we should report to someone, shouldn't we?

Vishal puts his dark-skinned hand on Galileo’s shoulder. I’m told you want excitement and adventure. But can you keep a secret? For real this time. This is a test, Galileo. A very important one. If you fail, it’ll have consequences for the rest of your life. Do you understand what I’m saying?

Galileo nods posthaste. I do.

Okay, then, Vishal says. We’re going to a spaceport, um, and then with a spaceship to a far but secret place. If you tell anybody without my permission about this, I won’t speak to you anymore. Ever. Can you handle that?

Galileo nods again quickly. Sure.

Vishal gets in. To the spaceport and step on it.

In the next minutes, I fly a smidgen over the speed limit and land like a reckless novice while Vishal briefs Galileo. We run to the waiting spacecraft, not paying attention to our surroundings. Nanodust seals us in lieu of spacesuits, and Fiafi launches straight up without ceremony. Does G understand what is going on? I wait for him to ask something.

Galileo stares out of the viewport, his face a flat pancake. In Tarctica, a Qeerav nation in Antarctica, we land in an Atagan camp, comprising hundreds of grandega tents, with seventy green-skinned Tarctican guards.

The Tarctican weather would kill the average human within hours, but the three of us sport XNA. G doesn't complain or show signs of hypothermia: so far so good.

DRAGONS! Galileo screams. GOBLINS!

Embarrassing. I can’t believe he’s my son. Please, keep your voco down. What would Victoria have said?

Galileo runs to the exit. It's good that we aren't in a war zone. G has been pleing way too many computer games. Can I force him to read more books?

Wait, I say. Calm down. They’re just aliens. Why don’t you listen to anybody? What if the doctors were wrong? I need to be sure that he's 'normal´.

Vishal cackles. C’mon. He’s excited. Keep your distance though, Galileo. The Atagans and Tarcticans can be a bit trigger-happy. I doubt that’s true, however, it makes no sense to say that to Vishal.

We get out and three-two Livfiv, the former Tarctican leader, welcomes us warmly. Impervious to the cold, Galileo sprints around like a headless chicken over snowy, icy Berfconcrete. So embarrassing. I cover my eyes for a beat.

Everything alright? Vishal asks Livfiv.

The visitors demand all kinds of things from us, Livfiv says with a Qeeravian accent. Including an opera building and museums.

An Atagan baby cries which sonojs like a dozen human choirs. Boom. Spreading a weird smell, Emperor Gluk lands near us as Galileo stares with an open mouth for a microsecond. G runs back to us at top speed.

How are things going, Your Highness? Vishal asks in his deep voco.

Without a warning, Galileo climbs on my shoulders. Prolly to vidy better. Chomp. I’m nothing more than a living ladder to him. Why can't he just behave?

—The situation is unacceptable,— Emperor Gluk says through his a-translator. —We demand our own planet where we can create a suitable Atagan biosphere.—

What about your own star system..., Your Highness, Livfiv asks.

—You know very well that we don’t have the resources,— Emperor Gluk says. —After the war, our population was decimated. I’m a god, and my will is the law.—

I blink. Can’t believe I gehort right. This is either something new, or he hid that from the APS. The 'I am divine' part, I mean. What if more Atagans feel that way?

I glance at Vishal who rigardus wide-eyed. Your Highness, I’m sure we can supply you with enough robots if you give us the time. Albert here is a genius and can work miracles.

Emperor Gluk focuses on me. —Is that true?—

Yes, Your Highness, I say. Welp, I can try. For the Heart of Humanity.

We are guinea pigs, running through a maze. G certainly can't stay still.

ii.

The Prophet Galileo never claimed to be more than an immortal man, and he said unto the people: ‘I walk with all; I breathe with all’. But the people made more of that, and a legend was born.

The Life and Philosophy of the Holy Prophet Galileo, by Baroness Iseasan, Mayor of New Atagan

About 6% of births in Awakenistan utilize artificial wombs. This percentage is much higher in Qeeravstan.

-From Artificial wombs, APS L2 Wiki, last edited by Dr. Itai Itai

ALBERT

YANGBRIDGE, AWAKENISTAN

FRIDAY, JANUARY 12, 2080

The next day Galileo still buzzes with excitement like a mad bumblebee on Synthadurg. He called me four tempos from his skoliwol to ask whether Vishal will visit today. He called when I entered my office, he called before lunch, he called after lunch, he called as I left my office.

Vishal proposed something else, I say to G in the aircar after I picked him up.

Galileo turns around in his seat to wave at somebody behind us as the seatbelt struggles to keep him in his place. I am glad that he has friends. After a relaxed trip, we land on the roof of a nondescript twelve-story building.

Where are we, papa? Galileo asks, getting out of the aircar.

A secret AIS facility. I can’t say that. The less you ask the better at this point. Please try to be more like Tony except for that thing he does in his bedroom. And what Vishal said about secrets—that’s still in force. Please remember that.

Galileo nods and jumps up as high as he can which is unnaturally high. I release a sigh. What’s the use? Somebody in the hospital where G was born made him this way. There's no other explanation.

An officer with a badly-concealed weapon walks with us to a windowless and sonojproof room on the first floor with four DreamUHD vidwalls. Galileo gazes at the man’s suspicious bulge as his bionic nose prolly told him that something unusual lurks there. We sit on Berfplastic chairs.

The vidwall directly in front of us flickers on, and good-old Dralzad—green-skinned with red blotches, light blue teeth, and a friendly face—appears. She was and still is a Qeerav scientist. We chat for a while as Galileo behaves like a village Barney.

Galileo, can you put the goggles on your nose, Dralzad says in Qeeravian.

She means the lightweight goggles on the table, delivered through the Wormnet from Qeerav 4 where Dralzad lives. Although Earth’s neuroscientists collected data on Galileo already, she must check that Galileo is a HyperConnector like myself. Welp, he’s unlike his stepsister and stepbrother, Julia and Cesar. Enze on Qeerav Prime, who received some of my XNA, also isn’t one. Not a genetic trait it seems.

G doesn't ask for sandwiches or other food. I should feed him. Did he eat already?

—You’re a very special boy,— Dralzad says after nine minutes as Fiafi translates.

I know, Galileo says directly.

The arrogance. He must have stolen cookies or something else from the skoliwol. Will he lie in my face if I ask him?

—Not in a way that your dad appreciates, I think,— Dralzad says. —You exhibit high levels of empathy. Off the charts.—

Really? I chuckle. If you asked me before your little test, I’d have told you the opposite. He's not welp-behaved for an empath. What are empaths like anyway?

—Didn’t you wonder how he was able to hide his ‘experiments’ from you?— Dralzad asks. —After all, you’ve got the abilities of a top predator and a genius mind with an excellent memory.—

Oh wait, am I a guinea pig? So I’ve been incredibly busy with large companies and worldwide charity, I say. Don’t understand how you can think that messing with other kids can be anything else than evil.

—He’s trying to gauge their reactions,— Dralzad says. —It’s his way to do social science.—

I laugh aloud until hot tears prick in my judgmental peepers. Mkay. Great theory. And the Devil was some sort of a Freud. I am a guinea pig in G's lab.

She rigardus confused.

Freud was a neurologist, I say. Come to think of it, Galileo might have inherited the empathy trait from his mother. Suddenly Dralzad’s claim makes sense to me, or I contributed a recessive allele.

The light behind you is strange, Galileo says.

It’s a different star than our Sun, type G9V, but I didn’t tell Galileo. Does he mean that or some sort of aura?

—And you know why don’t you?— Dralzad asks.

You’re different from the other goblins, Galileo says in a sing-song voco.

She’s a Qeerav. I scowl. He knows about aliens from computer games, but those are evil creatures bent on destroying the human race. Does G understand what the Qeeravs are like?

—He figured that out,— Dralzad says. —You’re fascinating, Galileo. I want to pick your brain as humans say on Earth.—

Mad scientists observe; they want to set the world ablaze.

iii.

According to the Prophet Galileo, he lived a life of sin before the Gods spoke to him although his father tried to raise him using a special book with rules based on the teachings of major Earth religions.

The Life and Philosophy of the Holy Prophet Galileo, by Baroness Iseasan, Mayor of New Atagan

Cancer death rates dropped six-fold in the last fifty years due to better therapies and the widespread use of AI.

-From Cancer, APS L2 Wiki, last edited by Dr. Itai Itai

ALBERT

QEERAVSTAN, FORMER USSR

SATURDAY, JANUARY 13, 2080

To Galileo's dismay, I have him follow a strict diet in the hope that he'll become less hyperactive. Welp, I hoped he'd take a shine to BoR. No dice. Captain Galagat said that he can arrange extracurricular activities for Galileo, and a military spaceship drops us in Qeeravstan in less than fifteen minutes.

As always Galileo doesn't wait for me and runs around like a wild pony. Eventually, I grab him by the collar. For the Heart of Humanity. You don't even know where we’re going, I say as Galileo kicks in the air.

Let me go.

No, I say. Be quiet. Does he even hor me? Maybe his ears aren't bionic.

I grab G by the waist and carry the flibbertigibbet to the dogfight simulator where I release him. The windowless room pretends to be the bridge of a Qeeravstani Beta class warship with dozens of rollscreens, displaying virtual instruments. Immediately Galileo jumps in the captain's seat and fiddles with the controls. To my surprise, he gets into a simulated fight.

Cap Galagat enters the room. Woah, that's level two. You ought to be on level eight at least.

Seconds later a fleet of 23 Thohnuth ships—6 of class B, 4 of class C, 1 of class D, and the rest of class A—faces Galileo since he isn't cleared for jumpgates, yet the simulation doesn't use ‘em.

Ophut and purple Hovik come to have a rigardu too. Galileo has never vidied timbomis, tennis-balls sized creatures, before and has trouble dividing his attention between the battle and Hovik. Finally, he punches buttons which lets his warship fly away on autopilot. Galileo claps and waves at Hovik.

Feed him these seeds, Ophut says in passable English, giving Galileo the timbomi food.

Hovik is a timbomi, champ, I say.

How old is...he? Galileo asks.

I smile. What an inappropriate question! Not that Hovik minds.

Can I have one, papa? Galileo asks, using his sweetest voco.

No, we have Kuneho, and you can make little pets using nanobots when nobody is watching. What will happen if the Kuqips vidy him doing it?

And tiny fishes.

He wants pets but doesn't even comb his haro. Exactly. I nod. Tell you what if you manage to get a perfect score, I'll think about it. For a second or two because I have got other things to do.

Yay. Galileo launches himself at the simulation.

I fingerspell to Cap Galagat:  C-H-E-A-T. He nods and strides away. Seconds later Galileo gets in trouble—his warship's engines malfunction, and he has fires to put out. Also, the enemy fleet doubles in size. Frustrated Galileo pushes random controls.

What’s he doing? Ophut whispers in Qeeravian.

I shrug, not offering any suggestions. Suddenly a rollscreen flashes: 'Maximum Ammunition' in Qeeravian. Galileo discovered a cheat code. I can't imagine why someone would build that in. Galileo's ship shoots non-stop in all directions.

That's cheating, I say, grinning. How did he do that? Cheater.

Galileo ignores me, and his situation improves to the point that the system declares him victorious. When am I getting a timbomi? Galileo asks sweetly.

I said I'd think about it. I frown. Besides you cheated. Or did he get lucky?

No, I didn't, Galileo says. "It's not my fault that there’s a bug in the software.

The Qeeravs make strange noises, and I laugh. Kay, I say. We'll return when they fix the glitch, and then if you succeed again, you can have a baby timbomi. Can he spot software errors? That would be useful for his future career.

I can stall, and an itsy-bitsy timbomi won't cause much trouble if I keep it caged. Can it? I’ll have to ask around. Galileo perks up and does another session of sparring.

Abracadabra, simsalabim

What a magic trick he pulled!

Greatness is a mysterious and fluid phenomenon which comes and goes as it pleases. It depends on the imagination of the people. The Prophet Galileo felt and experienced greatness like no other with a healthy dose of self-ridicule.

The Life and Philosophy of the Holy Prophet Galileo, by Baroness Iseasan, Mayor of New Atagan

AI has 83.8 % accuracy when it comes to predicting natural disasters in the long-term. Short-term forecasts are much more accurate.

-From Natural disasters, APS L1 Wiki, last edited by Nathaniel R

VISHAL

MUSKVILLE, AWAKENISTAN

JUNE 23, 2072

Vishal and President Rhodes strode out of the P1 officer's mess of the R40 military base near Muskville in Awakenistan, sporting an earpiece each. At a respectable distance, a dozen Awakenistani soldiers accompanied them.

For a military base, they got a lot of bloody issues, mate, President Rhodes said.

Vishal shrugged. Only faulty electronic doors.

And leaking pipes. A guaranteed catastrophe.

Three large hypersonic jets landed, and a delegation headed out, comprising civilians and soldiers. 89 yards away from the planes, President Rhodes and Vishal greeted the Sultan of Brunei, five-seven and clad in business attire, warmly.

So you want to have a base in my blessed country. The Sultan smiled.

We'll invest heavily, Your Highness, President Rhodes said. Give you zero percent loans.

The Sultan held a slender hand up. Capital and return don't interest me. I'm worried about my daughter who still has no worthy husband. The girl in question with paler skin than her father pouted nearby. What about this Albert, I’ve been hearing so much about lately? Is he married to a duchess?

The daughter was dressed like a fashion model in an elegant pink ensemble and three of her girlfriends, wearing more colorful outfits, accompanied her. They chatted and chortled, keeping an eye on the male soldiers close to them.

He has a new girlfriend in GNY, Your Highness, Vishal said in a baritone voice. Thanks to Last Wave.

Nothing serious I hope? the Sultan asked. Can you persuade him to take an interest in my precious child?

Your Highness, we can certainly talk to Albert, President Rhodes said. But that's all we can bloody do.

It's a public secret that Albert has a twin brother, Isaac, Your Highness, Vishal said, smiling. How many people know? Perhaps your daughter would like to meet him.

No, she won't, the Sultan said. She's very stubborn. Takes after her mother.

Sporting traditional and formal garments, the woman in question grimaced. She was raised differently than her daughter, and it showed.

Bang. A rifle shot rang out and everybody dropped to the concrete ground. Swiftly soldiers took defensive positions without having to be told. Walkie-talkies squawked as civilians, including the sultan’s daughter, screamed in terror. In a few seconds, Drones, aircars, and smartdust provided extra cover. More ear-piercing shots came in quick succession for a total of nine.

We got a shooter in one of your airplanes, Your Highness, Vishal said in his dark voice, after someone spoke in his earpiece. Don't worry we'll take him out soon.

Is he one of my people? the Sultan asked.

No idea, Your Highness, President Rhodes said.

Armored aircars—Chariots and Behemoths—formed a circle around one of the hypersonic scramjets on the tarmac. Tense-looking soldiers got out and pointed their guns at the hidden criminal. Tedbots and drones joined them from a safe distance.

Come out with your hands up, an authoritative voice bellowed, aided by microphones. You’re completely surrounded.

Minutes later, a handsome man got out, hands behind his neck, and the soldiers whisked him away. Meanwhile, medbots attended to the three wounded.

That chelb was one of the men who dated my daughter, the Sultan said, wide-eyed. They were almost going to get married last year.

Vishal massaged his dark-skinned chin. I guess security here needs to improve.

No worries, mate, President Rhodes said. Live and learn.

We must take full advantage of the incident, Vishal said with his arms crossed.

The Sultan of Brunei smiled. What do you have in mind?

It might make sense to pretend that one of us died, Your Highness, President Rhodes said, stroking his blond beard. But who?

I think that's a question for Fiafi, Vishal said. Need to give a spin to this, otherwise we'll look like simpletons.

The Sultan snickered. Good plan. When will we meet this Isaac of yours?

Soon, Your Highness, President Rhodes said. Soon.

CHAPTER 3 MUMBAI

The sky cannot accept two suns nor Atagan two emperors; the oceans cannot accept two moons nor Atagan two leaders.

-Emperor Gluk, leader of Atagan

A new deadly virus in Peking turns out to be a mutated pathogen possibly with Qeerav origin. Luckily the authorities contained the situation within a reasonable amount of time.

-From Peking virus, APS L2 Wiki, last edited by Dr. Itai Itai

ALBERT

QEERAVSTAN, FORMER USSR

SUNDAY, JANUARY 14, 2080

Galileo and I spent the frigid noch in an Atagan camp in Qeeravstan. A totally different experience than the usual outing with Galileo's stepbrother and stepsister in Awakenistan or GNY. We ate a raw hedgehog for dinner, or something equally nasty.

Vishal enters our lime tent bright and early. For the Heart of Humanity. An Atagan complained about getting robbed.

Galileo was with me, I say. I'm certain. For the Heart of Humanity. He might be a cookies thief but would he dare go further than that? Will the Atagans take it out on us?

G rigardus sleepy as Atagans landing and Tarcticans ambling around produce snow-crunching noises. Is he faking it to make him rigardu less suspicious? I am wealthy; what can he want from the Atagans?

I'm not suspecting him, Vishal says in his deep voco. Wanna learn to shoot, sport?

Taught him that already. Maybe I shouldn’t have. Is G capable of murder?

The wind pleis with G’s and Vishal’s haro. It touches me too like a careful barber. G yawns and stretches.

Not with laser guns, I wager, Vishal says.

Of course not. Nothing lethal or even loud.

We march out of the tent, and I stretch properly. A grandega shadow flies over us, spreading a distinct and familiar scent. Why would a god visit us?

—My citizens complained,— a computer-generated voco belonging to Emperor Gluk says. —I can't tolerate this.—

We're addressing the issue, Your Highness, Vishal says. But nobody saw anything and there’s no physical evidence.

Sporting polar gear g-papa Richard, hands in his thick pant’s pockets, and g-mama Elena, also dressed warmly, stroll towards us. African American g-papa and Russian g-mama got no XNA and therefore need the insulating layers although thin batteries provide extra heat at 200 W. They’re the parents of my late Uncleo who was killed in GNY by X-org.

I don't know what I'm doing here, g-papa Richard says. I was a homicide detective in New York.

G-mama Elena smiles. Hi, Galileo, how are you doing?

Vishal is going to teach me to shoot with laser guns. Galileo beams at her.

That's Mr. D'Souza to you, I say. He has no manners and is arrogant. Victoria wasn’t like that, so where does he get it from?

Vishal waves my remark away. No need for formalities. Let's run to the armory. Whoever gets there last is a silly goose.

And he takes off. Obviously, Galileo needs no encouragement. I run behind ‘em and let Galileo finish second. Will somebody mention breakfast soon? I brushed my teeth this morning but G didn’t.

Papa, you're a silly goose. Galileo practically shouts in my face.

Am not, I say. Vishal never included me in his contest. It's you who finished last.

The happy grin fades from Galileo's face and changes into a confused frown. He gazes at the tall racks filled with laser guns.

Gotcha there. Cheer up, G, I say. One day you'll have longer legs and then you'll win everything. Will that make the world happy?

Vishal picks up three practice guns and heads out. So, Galileo, this works like normal shooting but without the recoil and be careful not to aim at reflecting surfaces or living creatures.

At the target range, Galileo nails every shot and four minutes later asks, Can I ride one of the dragons?

No, I say. They’re Atagans and rigardu nothing like dragons. Exaggeration: they do a bit. This isn’t the way I usually spend Sundays, but I also hardly get the chance to watch holo-TV except for the biz news now and then. And that’s only interesting half the tempo.

I want to investigate the robbery, Galileo says quickly.

I fix my gaze at G. You haven’t graduated from high skoliwol even. He’ll get expelled over and over. Can I sell him to the Qeeravs or something?

Might be good for him to tag along with your grandparents, Vishal says using his basso voco.

Fine, I say, frowning.

We run back ‘cause Galileo is in a hurry. Is it weak to talk about breakfast?

So let me get this straight, g-papa Richard says. You saw an Atagan, but you don’t know who, and what he looked like.

—Well, I was asleep,— the a-translator belonging to a bronze Atagan says.

Can I have a ride? Galileo asks. I’m very light.

Galileo, I say sternly. My special son, full of empathy, seeks adventure. Are the Atagans aircars to him?

The Atagan produces a strange sonoj. —Try one of the younger Atagans, kid.—

Which one? Galileo asks.

The Atagan ignores him, and g-papa Richard continues with his questions. Galileo sprints towards smaller Atagans and makes his Barney request. Four Atagans turn him down.

Finally, an Atagan half the size of adult male Atagans says, —Fine, but I want you to wash my back because I can’t see, and I don’t trust technology.—

Galileo jumps on his back, and the two soar in the sky whilst Galileo squeals like a Barney madman. Some empath he is. Does his empathy laboris with Atagans?

Abracadabra, simsalabim

Let’s form a special team

Roger that; copy that. One little boy on flight, something or other.

i.

The Prophet Galileo believed that our ancestors were violent, and it is our job to teach our children to be more tolerant and live in peace with each other so that their kids would be even more empathetic.

The Life and Philosophy of the Holy Prophet Galileo, by Baroness Iseasan, Mayor of New Atagan

The D2A machine chills small bottles and cans in minutes and has the size of a small microwave oven.

-From Chill blaster, APS L2 Wiki, last edited by Barry F

ALBERT

YANGBRIDGE, AWAKENISTAN

MONDAY, JANUARY 15, 2080

On Monday in the late afternoon, I stroll in a busy Yangbridge street, minding my own business and thinking of Galileo’s wild flight yesterday. I have my honesty, reputation, and companies. Why can’t I deal with one little boy?

Hey, aren’t you the Emperor of Tarctica? someone asks behind me with a Canadian accent and bass voco. For the Heart of Humanity.

I turn around to vidy a middle-aged man with a Caucasian phenotype and five o’clock shadow. Wears a light blue Nirvana T-shirt and jeans. He’s not the first to recognize me, but the days of Mastodont selfies and holo-TV interviews are over.

True, I recognize you from your pale green spots, the man says, grinning. Actually I saw you all the way from the parkade up there. He points up to a parking garage. You know I saved up thanks to the VST UBI and moved here from Toronto. Had little going on there. Now I work as an inspector in the Odyssey chill blaster factory.

He strikes me as agreeable. I get lots of thank-you cards and e-mail ‘cause of the UBI. And my popularity on social media isn’t too bad. I’m happy for you. For the Heart of Humanity. Is it a fun job? Prolly just checks the laboris of infallible tedbots. I do the same for superintelligent AIs, but for different reasons.

The Toronto man shrugs. I’m Frank by the way. We shake hands.

What you sayin’ tonight? Frank asks. Wanna grab a brewski?

Don’t drink alcohol, but I wouldn’t mind having coffee, for instance. With Milkirav or faux-milk. Does he care about that?

True, let’s go then.

The Sun is about to set. I can’t say I missed it when I was in the Qeerav star system. Why not? I guess I took it for granted and didn’t pay attention to it.

We sit down in a KofiBucket with seven other customers (the place can seat eight tempos more), and I wonder what I’m doing talking to a rando while I got tons of issues and laboris. Adorable tedbots bring gin and tonic for Frank and a soda for me.

That’s jokes, Frank says. You must think that I’m a stalker or another type of nutjob.

I shake my head although negative thoughts did cross my mind. No, but I’ve got to check up on my son. He’s at my brother’s place right now.

An aircycle lands on the road in front of me. What is its top speed? Is Galileo going to ask for one? A ride on an Atagan should be safer.

You got a boy? Frank smiles. Unfortunately I can’t talk about children because I’ve been a lonely bachelor all my life. True, I lied. He holds a hand up defensively. "That is, I omitted to tell you