Remote Explorer







    Charles Hunter reluctantly stepped through his front door and down the plasticrete sidewalk. He stopped and turned to give his replica of a five room ranch style home one last look. It looked like a large box, a box of memories. The pain in his chest was unendurable. Each window, each nook and cranny of the house held a memory, a hint of perfume, the echo of her voice... Delilah, Delilah, DELILAH!!! The words raged in his mind and ripped his heart from his chest.
    With a shuddering sigh Charles turned and walked across the lawn to sit on the lush green grass, his grass. He had pampered that lawn for so long, so lovingly. Few people actually knew how to grow things any more, it took months of trial and error to coax his lawn into life. It was the last remaining real lawn on the block. The others had gone to synthetic grass which grew once and froze at the perfect height, flexible and realistic forever even though it was clinically dead after the first month. His eyes scanned his flower garden and ornamental shrubs. The shrubs had belonged to Delilah, his late wife and best friend. When she died and half of him died with her. Now he went through the motions of life, enjoying nothing and feeling nothing. He was a lot like synthetic lawns of his neighbors.
    The hibiscus had been the last straw. Delilah had pampered it as he had pampered the lawn, and last week it flowered. It had been more than his tortured soul could stand. He needed to leave the reminders of her behind, not to forget her, but to endure her absence. She had died 13 months before, but in reality she still lived here, as alive as ever in his mind.
    Charles heaved to his feet and stalked off the lawn to the broad sidewalk which had served as a walkway. There were no streets any more. They still referred to the neighbors on the other side of the sidewalk as across the street, but there had been no streets for over a hundred years. The young people didn't know where the term came from. Streets were needless and the massive road system of the 21st century had taken up too much space needed for people and agriculture.
    Charles plugged his card into the taxi call box and waited until it verified his transaction. Charles heard the hiss of an air propelled hover board approaching from the East end of the street. He watched a neighbor kid float up the avenue. The small boy waved on the way by. Charles waved in return. He realized sadly that he didn't know the boy, Delilah would, she knew everyone. Charles had been buried in his computer for the past ten years, building towards a future which was now meaningless without her.
    Charles glanced back at his home and saw that the preassigned holographic "for sale" sign had already sprung up from the tiny projector planted in his lawn. The house was no longer his. He growled, then visibly relaxed and turned his back on the home. That was the past, now he must look to the future.
    The high pitched whine of an air car drew his attention to the West. He looked up at the checkered taxi and waved. The taxi settled on the lawn, the side swung up and Charles stepped in. He was alone in the craft, which wasn't surprising. He didn't expect a live driver, this was no limo.
    "Where too?" the dashboard suddenly asked.
    "Raybeam Tech."
    "Raybeam, huh? Very well, it's your brain.
    "Your voice sounds familiar, who is this?" Charles began to show some signs of life.
    "Operator 487, out of Northeastern. Patrick Reque. I've driven for you before."
    "Got time to chat?"
    "Sure, I only have two other cabs on the line right now. What's up?"
    "Have you had many drops at Raybeam?"
    "Me? Hell no. Most of their clientele are old timers, 21st century defrosts with no job skills. They go right from cryonics to the RERE building in black trucks. I've never seen a volunteer from the general populace."
    "Why should you object, it's not too different from what you do."
    "Yeah it is, Pal, very different. For one thing I don't go in a tank for years at a time,%w take this remote gear off and go home at night. For another," the voice turned disgusted, "they don't shove those tubes up my butt and down my throat. I take normal breaks, just like everybody else. It's different, pal, believe me."
    "Yeah, I guess it is. But the benefits far outweigh the inconveniences."
    "If you say so. Say, Charlie, there are a few openings here at Checkered, I could put a word in for you if you want."
    "No, but thanks. I want to escape, I've opted for remote exploration."
    "Ok, you're here. But keep my offer in mind."
    "I will, and thanks again. Take an extra something off my account, I won't be needing it for a few years."
    "Thanks, I will."
    Charles stepped out and looked at the mile-high building disappearing in the clouds overhead. He knew there would be a series of transmission dishes at the top of that tower, just beneath the lower reaches of space. The dishes had originally been used for teleportation stations. Teleportation had been a new 22nd century fad which ended only five years before. Half the world, including Charles and his new bride, took a trip in a teleporter, just to say they had used one. The technical aspects of teleportation had been a closely-guarded secret until one day a Terminalist, who was also an electrical engineer, broke into the IB&C files and downloaded a secret set of teleporter schematics. He found that teleportation was based on the principle of destroying the original person at the point of origin and rebuilding an exact duplicate at the destination point. He passed the word that teleportation meant murdering the original copy and creating an exact duplicate. Sure, a copy showed up at the destination point, but the original person ceased to exist the moment he stepped into the beam. Since the electrical engineer had recently taken a ride in the teleporter, he had IB&C prosecuted for his own murder, and eventually won. The resulting uproar had put IB&C out of business and in debt forever.
    Raybeam Electronics and Robotic Exploration, or RERE, had taken over much of IB&C's prior assets and now owned this buildings, which had been IB&C's main headquarters in Southeastern. Charles would soon be hooked into one of those dishes. He glanced wistfully at the departing taxi turning for a flight back to Northeastern. It was tempting. If it weren't for Delilah...
    "Can I help you?" a real woman asked on the 220th floor. RERE only used the upper floors of the building, the lower half was still sealed for legal reasons. The records in the lower sections had been sealed by the courts during the prosecution of IB&C, and were now reviewed to assess damages to the thousands of people who had filed class action suits against IB&C. The news expected the uproar to go on for at least 20 more years. Charles had not taken part in the suits, since his original had been destroyed, not him.
    "I'm Charles O. Hunter, I called last week. I have an appointment with recruiting."
    He was ushered into a higher office and set down in front of a remotely operated screen to fill out computer forms. The first form was a bond of secrecy, the second waived all rights to legal redress. The taxi job began to look better and better as he wadded through the pile of forms flickering on the holographic screen. After three hours the screen went blank and a young man came into the room to escort him out. In three more hours he was stripped and tubes and permanent electrodes were inserted all over his body. In two more hours his eyes were sealed shut and he was being lowered in an oxygenated nutrient tank. The tank would be his new home for the next three years.
    Charles opened his eyes and looked down at his dusty, silicone plastic body. It had been in storage for a long time, there was a coating of dirt on his muscular synthetic body which would need to be steam cleaned off. He stepped into the sterilizer and waited as his new body was cleansed, inside and out. In a moment the water and steam stopped and he stepped out to see the lightly tanned rubber skin gleaming and new in the pale blue sunlight. He glanced up at the window and saw the edge of a huge blue sun seething overhead. It was a frightening sight, one which would take a lot of getting used too.
    Charles searched for appropriate clothing and saw a young woman stand up quickly and hurry from a glass enclosed office.
    "Hi, who are you?"
    "Back on Earth, I'm Charles Hunter, a new man. Who are you?"
    "Eilene Baker. Welcome to the Atlantis project."
    "Thanks, I guess. Couldn't RERE send me out a new body?"
    "No need, these last for a thousand years or more. Your's is barely two hundred years old and I just overhauled it myself. Besides, teleporting out robots cost energy and energy is money, you know."
    "They teleport them?" Charles asked in surprise.
    "Sure, they took over IB&C's old equipment. Since the teleporters can't be legally used for humans any more, they send out robots for remote operation. Didn't they tell you anything?"
    "They had me in the tank in less than ten hours. All I know is that I'm supposed to report to the head of the Atlantis project, a Doctor Baker... you're her," he said belatedly, shaking her hand. "What are we doing out here anyway?"
    "Energy collection and transmission. What's your specialty?"
    "Computer programming and operation."
    "Not much use to us, I'm afraid. 21st century computers are so ancient that the principles aren't even similar."
    "I'm not a defrost, I'm a volunteer. I'm from the 22nd century."
    "No shi... I mean, I'm happy to meet you. I'm a volunteer too. Until you came along I was the only one. Now I have somebody to talk too who can understand what I'm talking about. Well, by all means, we can certainly use you. Right now I'm trying to puzzle through the alignment and conversion process, that should be right up your alley."
    "I can look," Charles shrugged and followed her as she started for the front door.
    Eilene stopped suddenly and held up her hand. "I have to warn you, Goliath can be very intimidating, prepare yourself for a shock."
    "I've seen part of it through the skylight."
    "Not even the same thing. Are you ready?"
    "Sure," Charles impatiently opened the door and was surprised to feel the knob in his hand as realistically as he could feel his own hand.
    "Hey, I can feel that."
    "Sure. Your body was desensitized while it was in storage, sometimes it takes a while to get your senses back. Can you smell and taste yet?" she asked as she stepped through the door.
    "No not..." Charles stood in stunned silence and hunched his back against the huge mass filling the sky. The blue sun looked so close he felt he could reach out and touch it. He straightened slowly as he watched the solar flares sending tentacles out into space. Some reached for the planet, but never made it. He could see the black swirls on the sun's surface and the swirling, boiling clouds of burning gas churning on the surface.
    "I told you, scary isn't it? Just remember, your body is not real, you can not be harmed here."
    Charles nodded and tried to smile. He liked the look of Eilene in the bluish light which gave her a ghostly tint around her cheeks and hair. Her clothing had changed colors and the roundness of here chest was accented by the blue light and darker shadows which served to outline every luscious curve of her body.
    "Your eyes have been slightly altered to make this bluish light seem more natural to you. A human eye would be nearly blind here, this is similar to the black lights popular in the 20th century."
    "What about sunburn?" Charles asked as he suddenly realized that he was still naked.
    "Oh shit, I'm sorry," she looked down and giggled. "We'll get you some clothes. It looks like your body is waking up in more ways than one."
    Charles glanced down and quickly covered himself.
    "I didn't know a robotic body could... respond like that."
    "Oh yeah, we have some very interesting recreation around here. It seems that once people step into a remotely operated body, they drop all inhibitions. They seem to feel that they actually aren't doing anything, since nobody is really here. It's a dream state thing. You know, anything goes in a dream."
    Charles nodded, still covering himself.
    "Oh come on Charles, it's not really your body, you know. Follow me, we'll get those clothes."
    "It feels real enough to me," he followed, still covering himself."
    "If you want to see some really confused people, you should see the ones who can't get a same-sex body. There are guys around here who I'd swear are in love with themselves. You were lucky, you got a male body."
    Charles quickly fell into the routine of things. In the next week he met most of the other two hundred occupants of the Atlantis complex. Some he didn't like, most were friendly, though a bit strange with their 21st century mentalities. He soon understood what Eilene meant about talking to somebody who understood what she was talking about. He repeatedly heard resentment over the reorganization of the United States, where all interior cities, roads, and private dwellings were destroyed to make room for farm lands. Eastern and Western were constructed and the new mega-complexes were built from one end of both coasts to the other. To Charles this and frequent references to the underground transit tubes were ancient history. The others talked of them as if they were happening now. Charles sought out Eilene most of the time. They got along well and Charles wondered what Eilene's real body looked like back on Earth. Whenever he asked about it she changed the subject. But he made good use of her synthetic body, making love to her at the drop of a hat. She was happy and willing to cooperate.
    Once Charles senses truly woke up he thoroughly enjoyed the experience of remote exploration in more ways than one. There was a scent to the air at the Atlantis project which was thoroughly intoxicating and enjoyable. It was partially from the growing things on the unknown planet, but the trace elements in the air had much to do with it. He took the time to fly, swim, fish, and explore, usually with Eilene at his side. For the first time since Delilah's death, he truly began go live again.
    For the first year Charles worked on the programming to convert the teleportation beam into one which would carry massive bursts of energy back to Earth. Only short, highly concentrated bursts of energy could make the project profitable, and it was his job to experiment on the planet's surface until the transmitter was perfected. Eilene and Charles were the brains of the project, and the Defrosts were the brawn. He was amazed at how tirelessly the robotic bodies could work under such harsh conditions. He seldom thought of his real body any more. For him Atlantis was reality and Earth was a distant memory. If Charles could have discarded his real body and lived out his life with Eilene at the Atlantis Project, he could have been truly happy.
    On the momentous day that the transmission process first worked, Charles and Eilene held a little celebration in her bungalow. Since a massive solar flare was due to reach the vicinity of Atlantis during the next day they moved the celebration to the underground complex designed to shelter them from these frequent solar flares. The flares couldn't kill them, of course, but a thousands robots kicking helplessly on the ground, unable to rise, were unbecoming.
    "I can't believe you actually got it to work," Eilene said quietly and snuggled closer to Charles' body. He looked down and smiled, then gently stroked her long brown hair.
    "It took a while, but it works, doesn't it?"
    "You were wonderful, Charles. You realize that we might be recalled now," she looked up with a frown.
    "Recalled?"
    "Yeah, you know, back to Earth."
    "Earth. You know, I haven't thought of Earth for a long time. I almost forgot that it exists. Where do you think they will send us next?"
    "I don't know. I'll be put in charge of another project. They'll probably use you at headquarters after this. You're too valuable to go back in a tank."
    Charles sat up and frowned down at her. "You mean we will never work together again?"
    "We go where they tell us to go. You waived all rights, remember?"
    "Not me, I go with you or I'll quit," Charles jumped out of bed and went over to the recombinator. He ordered a cold beer and sat in the chair by the bed.
    "Charles, half the people on this planet were sent here against their will. They don't give you a choice, they turn you off and on like an old fashioned light bulb."
    "What if we got married?"
    "They don't allow marriages, Charles. Besides, if we were married they'd still send us where they want."
    "I could get you pregnant..." he realized what he was saying and stopped suddenly, looking down at his synthetic body. His mind had accepted the body as reality. He had been warned about such things in his short briefing.
    "Charles, you always wanted to know what my body was like back on Earth. I think it's time to come clean with you. I was born on July 6th, in the year 2150."
    "You said you weren't a defrost," Charles frowned down at her in annoyance.
    "I'm not, Charles."
    "That would make you almost ninety," he was horrified at the thought of such intimacies with... what? A hundred year old robot with a ninety year old mind? He was confusing his projected environment with the real one again. He suddenly felt sick and confused.
    "Charles, this has been a glorious second chance for me. I have been able to live like I did seventy years ago. Can you imagine what that meant to me? I wasn't trying to hurt or deceive you. It just started out as fun, remember?"
    "Yeah, I do now."
    "Don't you have somebody back on Earth?"
    "I did. She died a couple of years ago. Hell, I guess I did too when I used the teleporter. They tell me that we are just copies."
    "Most people from that time are... say, did she use the teleporter too? Your wife, I mean."
    "Sure, it was our honeymoon present from my father-in-law. We teleported to Paris for our honeymoon."
    "Do you remember the exact date?"
    "Yeah, I guess."
    "I'm going to take a chance on you, I think I know you well enough to trust you by now. But we can't talk out loud, they can monitor our conversation back on Earth. Come on," she waved him towards the computer. She turned it on and the holographic screen and keyboard appeared. She typed quickly and turned the screen for him to see."
    "The records of every teleportation ever made are stored in the lower levels of the RERE building. Go through the records and find her. You can bring her back. YOU CAN MAKE ANOTHER COPY!
    Charles gasped and sank to the chair, shaken and faint with the realization that there was a chance of bringing Delilah back.
    "Thank you, Eilene, I'll find her if it takes the rest of my life," Charles kissed her tenderly and they made love again.
    The energy transmissions began the next day. The system was fully automated, so there was no need to do more than monitor the results occasionally. This gave them more time to explore and enjoy themselves. In the weeks that followed they held parties for the defrosts, pursued their assorted hobbies, and began a project to further refine the compression of the electrical discharges. Charles, in his free time, began to probe IB&C records for any reference to his use of the teleporter. He was no Terminalist, but he was a good programmer and he began to make some headway against the safeguards in the system.
    Eilene helped as much as she could. During one of their computer excursions through the IB&C records, Eilene suddenly brightened.
    "You know, they have kept us here long past what was necessary. It's entirely possible that they have another project in mind for us here. We may stay," she said in excitement.
    "Perhaps we can increase the odds by making ourselves more useful. I believe we can double the output of our transmissions with another year of work."
    "I'll bring that up the next time I send a transmission to RERE. I'm sure they'll approve it."
    Eilene was wrong. One moment Charles was running a maintenance check, monitoring the energy transmissions on a hundred dials and meters, the next he was standing on a small hill overlooking an endless grassy plain.
    "Mark, did you hear me?"
    Charles swung around to see an exceedingly tall slender woman in bikini shorts and a diagonal band with a strap which served as a top. She had an enforcer ATW rifle over her shoulder and a hand on her shapely hip.
    "Where the hell am I?" Charles asked suddenly.
    "Mark, have you been out in the sun too long?" she smiled teasingly.
    "Lady, I don't know who you are or where we are, but I'm not and never have been Mark. My name is Charles Hunter."
    "What?" she straightened and the anger flashed in her eyes. Her hand clenched into a fist and it hit Charles in the stomach before he could move to protect himself. In an instant she leaped through the air and landed firmly on his chest.
    "What have you done? Where is Mark?" her hands went around his throat and began to close down.
    "Woman are you friggin crazy. You can't kill a robot. I don't know how I got here and I don't know anything about Mark. Now get off me before I hit you."
    "That will be the day," she growled but relented slowly and climbed to her feet.
    "The stinking pigs must have checked his background. I thought he'd be safe after all this..." she trailed off and looked closely in Charles' eyes. "Welcome to Effrasia, asshole."
    "Thanks, bitch."
    "Are you hungry?"
    "I shouldn't be, I ate less than an hour ago... but I am. I guess Mark hasn't eaten lately."
    "We were about too. Damned, I was just getting him broken in."
    "He had a shady past?"
    "To say the least. He was a Terminalist, you must have heard of them."
    "Yeah, I program computers. I've never been hacked by one, but everyone in my field is familiar with a Terminalist. In the 20st century they were called Hackers. I don't like them very much, they destroy what I create."
    "Yeah, we all have our problems. Well I'd better indoctrinate you on the way back to the hutch. You are on Seti Alpha Four, we are game wardens protecting the future of species transplanted here by IB&C while they were in business. Here you will find genetically engineered plant and animal life unseen on Earth for over a century. Our job is to protect and study the habits of these species so we can readapt them to Earth at some point in the future. Any questions?"
    "Yeah, what's your name?"
    "Cindy Oray. Yours?"
    "Charles Hunter."
    "Well don't do any hunting here, we live on the recomb, not real meat."
    "How many others are on this planet?"
    "None, we're it."
    "So this is all we do, walk around and watch animals mate?"
    "That's about the size of it, but that's about to change. We are reintroducing the California Condor on Earth in a few weeks. The biologists feel they can adapt to the mega-complexes of Western."
    "How exciting. I was just finishing up a project on... hell, I don't know where I was. Anyway they simply yanked me here in the middle of a test run."
    "Leave behind anybody significant?" she asked casually as they reached the grass and bamboo hut.
    "No... well yes, sort of. I just found out she was ninety in real life."
    "In these bodies we are all the same age. I was born in the late 20th century, that's why I'm here. I lived in a time when most of these animals were alive."
    "You're a defrost?"
    "Yeah, I'm a defrost," she said defensively. "You got a problem with that?"
    "No, I guess not. Say, this is pretty nice," Charles looked around the inside of the room and was surprised to find that technology had not been left behind, despite what the outside of the hut looked like.
    "Yeah, we do all right. Most of the protein for the recomb comes from the local flora around here. We're not allowed to touch anything originating on Earth. I'll show you which is which later. There's actually very little local plant life which is poisonous. A few type of fungus and three flowering shrubs, that I know of. Technically, the recomb can remove the poisonous aspects of such plants when it recombines the molecules into something we recognize as food, but I wouldn't try it."
    "I know nothing about recombs, my food came from a deli slot."
    "A techie, huh?"
    "Sure, I had a programming job with a large corporation."
    "So why are you here?" she handed him a plate of steak and mashed potatoes.
    "My wife..." he hesitated for several moments before continuing, "she's gone."
    "Sorry. Everyone I ever knew is gone, except for one man, he was the mechanic who worked on our car most of the time. I hated him. He got stinking rich off some kind of patent that made gas three times more efficient and had himself frozen. He restores cars for a rich guy now.
    I was a model and part time biologist. I got cancer and my insurance company froze me rather than paying off. I learned that you should always read the fine print before signing anything. But in the end, the joke's on them. They've been dead for two centuries and I'm still here."
    "I've heard of cancer, it was a big thing in the 20th century. I don't know what a car or mechanic is, but I'm sorry anyway."
    She shrugged and began eating. She cooked well, which was a real art with a recomb machine. It was easy to program a recomb computer to spit out food substitutes, but the art was in the slight alterations which synthesized certain spices, altered the moisture content, or added the hint of different flavors produced by a private formula. Cindy was a master. Charles enjoyed the warm, freshly scented breeze blowing in off the plains, playing with the lacy curtains and ruffling Cindy's dark brown hair while they ate. Cindy finished eating first and dumped her dishes in the recycle bin on the recomb. She sat and watched Charles eat, then took his dishes too. She returned with a gleam in her eyes.
    "So now that your full and your robotic body has refreshed itself, and is even now transforming all that protein into energy, how about sex?" Cindy asked casually.
    "With you?" Charles asked stupidly.
    "Unless you have somebody else in mind," she pretended to look around the empty room, then stared at him, planting her elbows firmly on the table. "Let me put my cards right on the table. I swing both ways, but Mark didn't. He liked men. I haven't had sex in over two years and unless you're like him, this body should be appealing to you. So how about it?"
    "Sure, ok," Charles said casually.
    By the end of the second hour he was glad he was using a robotic body, his real body couldn't have taken it. By the end of the third hour they had time to slow down and become friends.
    "The old formula still works," Cindy said with a happy sigh from her side of the bed.
    "What's that?"
    "Feed their stomachs and they'll follow you anywhere."
    Charles laughed. "I've never heard that one. You're right, I guess."
    "That's one of the advantages of being a defrost, all the old jokes are new again."
    "Cindy, you're a nice woman and I like you, but I can't stay here. I have... I have something I have to do back on Earth. I think that's why they sent me directly here, to keep me from doing it."
    "Sounds serious."
    "It is, I may go to a penal colony, but if there's a chance of bringing her back..."
    Cindy put her hand over his mouth and hushed him.
    "Don't say any more. I get your drift."
    "Huh?"
    "Never mind. We'll write each other a long letter later. In the meantime, we need a head count on the zebra herd, they usually water this time of day down at the river. The lions have harvested three in the past two weeks, if it keeps up we will have to cull the pride."
    Charles nodded and shrugged, totally lost. "Are there clothes I can wear?"
    "Mark wore some rather garish clothing, but you may find something you like in my closet."
    Charles felt less disoriented after three or four days, but he was not the outdoor type. He had lived in a mega-complex his entire life, and SA4 had too many crawling things to suit him. He was constantly swatting at bugs, even in his sleep.
    He learned to shoot well, thanks to Cindy's constant instructions. Of course there was little else to do other than sex. Charles was beginning to think that Cindy's appetite was inexhaustible. If he remembered right there used to be a name for such a condition, but it was cured so long ago he couldn't remember it's name. Whatever it was, Cindy had it. At first, at the Atlantis project, he hadn't minded sex with a strange woman, since Delilah had been gone for the past several years. But now, with the prospect of her return, it bothered him. He felt like he was cheating. This didn't sway Cindy one bit, when she wanted something, she took it.
    Cindy dreamed of fulfilling her contract with RERE and venturing out into the real 22nd century world. But RERE had a policy of keeping the defrosts in the dark, to keep them on the job. If the defrosts learned little of the 22nd century, they must depend on RERE for their existence. Cindy was strong-willed and wished to not only break away from RERE, but to train others to become self-reliant as well. Technically, a defrost who was removed from a cryogenic chamber was indebted to RERE for ten years. If there was an illness which must be cured, the indebtedness lasted a few years longer. In reality, RERE defrosted the old timers and enslaved them for life.
    "Tell me how to live in your world," Cindy said one day as they stopped to rest under a large tree. The shade felt good in the blazing sun.
    "I can't just sit here and talk about my world until you understand it and can live like we do. We go to school like you did in your time, but for us we sit under a neural transfer machine. It implants information directly into our brains, hour after hour, year after year, until we have all the information we need. My education took nine years, but by your standards there would be no comparison. I believe it equals 25 years of your education, but of course you forget most of what you were taught. With our transfer method, we forget nothing."
    "That's a lot of work. Isn't there a shorter course?"
    "Are you familiar with direct implants?"
    "No."
    Charles took his time, choosing his words carefully so he wouldn't frighten her.
    "Suppose you wanted to know something, and had a miniature computer in your brain. You call up the information and have the answers instantly. Sort of like total recall."
    "Sounds good, how's it done?"
    "A tiny chip, a computer all in itself. It runs off the electrical impulses of your mind and is hooked directly into the neural synapses that transfer thoughts. In essence, it becomes an enhanced portion of your brain."
    "If it's that easy why did you need nine years of education?"
    "It's not foolproof, it's just an aid. For each thing that's unfamiliar to you, you have to stop and recall that information. There is a delay while you make and receive each request. Suppose you don't know how to use an enforcer. You look at it and wonder what it is. The implant tells you it is a weapon that looks much like your 20th century TV remotes. It also tells you that it's the most widely used weapon in the universe. You ask what it can do, it shows you each button, the laser, molecular deharmonizer, projectiles, and sonic disrupter. It gives you the options for each weapon mode, such as how to set the projectile speed and range, or how to widen the laser into an flashlight. Then it shows you how to bend the back down into a pistol grip, set the option and lock the choice into the miniature computer so it can't be accidentally changed. Lastly, it shows you how to depress the firing stud, you can tap the stud to fire instantly, or depress and hold the button down for a holographic sight. Now you have all the information you need, right?"
    "It sounds like it, sure," Cindy nodded, already familiar with the enforcers.
    "Suppose you ask about this information while you are being attacked. What would happen?"
    "I'd still be receiving the information while I die."
    Charles nodded and put his hands behind his head as he laid back and relaxed against the trunk of the tree.
    "How much does this chip cost, and where do I get one?"
    "It costs very little actually. If you've been defrosted more than ten years, your personal account probably has enough for hundreds of them. To get one you go to a medical clinic and a machine implants it for you in less than a minute."
    "You're kidding. How can a machine do that?"
    "It's injected into your brain with a large needle, manipulated into place with electro-magnets, then it's activated by a small electrical pulse through the needle. It's over in 45 seconds, actually."
    "And what was that about a personal account?"
    "A credit account," Charles sat up and looked at her. "Do you mean to tell me that you've never accessed your account?"
    "I didn't even know I had one."
    "Damned them. No wonder the defrosts are enslaved. You need legal help."
    "Not much chance of getting that on SA4," she shrugged helplessly.
    "Where there's an entercom, there's help," Charles heaved to his feet and slung his rifle over his shoulder.
    "An entercom?"
    "A computer, in your time. But it's much more now, an entertainment terminal, computer, and universal communications and translator terminal as well. Come on, let's see what we can find."
    "What do we do first?" she moved closer to watch over his shoulder.
    "First we find your account, then we find a law firm to represent you. A good law firm with a staff of lawyers and a judge unbiased about defrosts."
    "A judge?"
    "Sure, who do you think pays them?"
    "In my time, the taxes did."
    "Trails must have lasted for years. Who came up with that idea?" Charles asked as he punched the holographic keys. There were no actual keys there, but the presence of his fingers in the right spaces were interpreted as key strokes. Cindy was more fascinated by the keyboard and screen than she was about what appeared on the screen. She waved her hand through the intangible keyboard and dozens of characters appeared on the screen. Charles gave her a scowl and she slid her hands behind her back and gave him a sly smile.
    "Here we are, Rule and Clyde. They were responsible for getting the Deity class of computers classified as intelligent and getting them human rights."
    "You're kidding? A computer?"
    "Of sorts, it's actually an AI... artificial intelligence constructed of human brain cells cultured to perform computer functions. It's... complicated."
    "I'm so far behind that the daily news doesn't even make sense to me," she said with a scowl.
    "We can fix that, just be patient."
    "Maybe I'm better off here," she said reluctantly.
    "You may be, but what I want to give you is a choice. Right now, you and the thousands of other defrost have no choice."
    "Charles, are you willing to talk about what you spoke of earlier?"
    "Not now."
    "It could be important."
    "Ok, but type it, don't say it. Your brain patterns can be monitored for speech, but keystrokes are untraceable, so far. They are interpreted as normal movement."
    Charles explained his plight, and his intentions on the screen. Cindy explained that Mark's main goal as a Terminalist was to crack the files in IB&C. He had succeeded but had been detected. He volunteered for RERE to hide until the search was over. If they could find Mark, Mark could find Delilah, if anybody could.
    Charles pulled her down and kissed her soundly, then ran a check on Mark. It took only moments to find that Mark had assumed Charles old job at the Atlantis project, which made sense since they were both computer experts.
    Charles sent two words over the entercom to Mark Midgate, half a galaxy away. "Kill yourself."
    Charles quickly contacted Rule and Clyde, retained them through his credit account, then turned with his enforcer aimed at Cindy. She in turn, aimed her's at him.
    "One, two, three..." Charles said and depressed the firing stud.
   
    Alarms sounded outside of the RERE life support vats. Technicians ran from one end of the room to the other, reading dials and climbing up the short ladders to the lids of those showing an alarm. In moments Charles, Cindy, Mark, and Eilene stood wet and shivering. Heat lamps were directed at their naked bodies while sensors and tubes were removed. They were cleaned and dressed by the time that five armed Rule and Clyde representatives showed up at the laboratory door with legal documents. Before anyone could object, the five armed guards ushered them out of the building.
    Six months later Charles sat at his table reading the thin plastic sheets of his daily paper. He turned to the section containing the law suit's filed against RERE and even he was staggered by the enormous settlement paid to former RERE defrosts.
    "Honey, RERE is finally paying," Charles called with a smile. "I bet they really hate me now. Delilah? Delilah? DELILAH!" he yelled, suddenly worried.
    "What?" she yelled, suddenly appearing, button her pants. "I was in the bathroom," she said in exasperation.
    "I was worried," he said uncomfortably. Subconsciously, he was afraid that something would go wrong and he would have to live without her again. "Can I have more coffee?" he asked, holding out his cup.
    Charles turned the plastic sheet when he noticed some movement outside. A boy passed the window, surfing past on his hover board. Charles' eyes widened momentarily, then he smiled and went back to his paper.
    Delilah came into the dining room and set a plate of bacon, eggs, and toast on the table and leaned over to read over his shoulder.
    "I bet Cindy and her new husband are celebrating. She's a rich woman now."
    "Are they still coming over tonight?"
    "Yes. Mark called too, he and his new friend are coming. Have you ordered the barbecue?"
    "It will be here at five, all fired up and ready."
    "Good, I'll send out for raw protein steaks," she leaned down and kissed him, then went over to stare out the window. "I like this neighborhood. I always wanted a house of my own."
    "But dear, we had one before... never mind," Charles smiled and began to eat. It was still hard to remember that Delilah had missed out on several years of his life, but he didn't mind. He was happy. Very, very happy.