visions from the Preserve were
still fresh. I revisited the memories, over and over. It only made
me long for escape, but I couldn’t stop recalling. I could still
envision the vast treetops and settling fog and the sun casting
strange colors in the sky. Mother crying.
“Room?” I called.
“Yes?” a woman’s voice answered.
“Are there any records of my father?”
“Yes. Most are classified.”
“Show me what you got.”
A faint magnetic field passed through the
room. A hologram appeared next to me, a man six feet tall. His
goatee was sprinkled with gray, his white hairline receding. I
stood on my toes and looked into my father’s eyes. I reached for
his hand to see if it was callus but I passed through the illusion.
The image shrank in scale to reveal him standing in a workshop.
“Trey Greeny was an exceptional student in
circuit mapping and gel intelligence,” the room said. “He was
promoted to advanced standing and level four security clearance by
the age of twenty-two. He was awarded the Medal of Commendation for
his bravery in the sector five space attacks.”
Space attack?
Dad shut a panel and ran a welding pen over
the seam. A servy retrieved the tools on the floor. There was no
sound from the image. He looked like he laughed, waved someone
over.
“Trey Greeny completed 204 deep-space
missions while employed at the Garrison. He was married to Kay
Greeny and had a son named Socket.”
Another man entered the scene. He could’ve
been a Paladin, but the hair was down to his shoulders. I walked
around to get a better view.
Pivot .
Dad showed him something on the workbench.
The room continued with details about his everyday life, stuff my
mom told me over the years. Stuff everyone knew. But all the good
stuff was classified. Space missions. Inventions.
Spindle entered the room.
“Pivot knew him,” I said. “Why didn’t you
tell me?”
“You did not ask.”
“Didn’t you think I’d want to know?”
“I do not see thoughts, Master Socket.”
“Well, you can use logic, can’t you?” I
said. “It doesn’t take a genius to calculate that I’d want to know
about my father!”
I get tested for this and that and no one
explained anything. Bullshit.
“There is not much to know.” Spindle’s face
was blue. “Pivot has always been withdrawn, but he responded to
your father. The Paladin Nation encouraged their relationship in
hopes Pivot would fully develop.”
“Develop? What’s that mean?”
“Pivot emits an extraordinary level of
psychic energy. He is a minder of another breed. His energy has a
profound impact on other Paladins. His presence increases other
Paladins’ powers.”
“So they’re using him. They’re leeching off
him, is that it? They’re taking from him, does he know that?
Spindle’s face turned many colors. “Pivot
provides the Paladin Nation with precognition.”
“He can see the future?”
“It is not so much the future, but a
deduction of events to come.”
“Deduction of events…” I shook my head.
“That’s the future , Spindle. He’s helping them see the
future.”
“The odds of future events,” Spindle said,
proudly.
No wonder they built him a jungle. He gave
them the ability to see what would happen. There was no limit to
that. They were rich: building a jungle for the future was a wise
investment no matter how many trillions of dollars it took.
“So that’s why they keep him,” I said.
“They’re using him to watch the future.”
“They are not using him like a tool, if that
is what you mean. Pivot is a remarkable and highly valued
cadet…”
He blabbered the company line, again.
Instead of remarkable and highly valued he should’ve just
said Pivot was a great commodity. Getting a real answer from
Spindle was impossible. He was programmed, after all. He said what
the programmers wanted him to say. He couldn’t say what they forbid
him to say. He had to follow the script. Every meaningful question
just led to another
still fresh. I revisited the memories, over and over. It only made
me long for escape, but I couldn’t stop recalling. I could still
envision the vast treetops and settling fog and the sun casting
strange colors in the sky. Mother crying.
“Room?” I called.
“Yes?” a woman’s voice answered.
“Are there any records of my father?”
“Yes. Most are classified.”
“Show me what you got.”
A faint magnetic field passed through the
room. A hologram appeared next to me, a man six feet tall. His
goatee was sprinkled with gray, his white hairline receding. I
stood on my toes and looked into my father’s eyes. I reached for
his hand to see if it was callus but I passed through the illusion.
The image shrank in scale to reveal him standing in a workshop.
“Trey Greeny was an exceptional student in
circuit mapping and gel intelligence,” the room said. “He was
promoted to advanced standing and level four security clearance by
the age of twenty-two. He was awarded the Medal of Commendation for
his bravery in the sector five space attacks.”
Space attack?
Dad shut a panel and ran a welding pen over
the seam. A servy retrieved the tools on the floor. There was no
sound from the image. He looked like he laughed, waved someone
over.
“Trey Greeny completed 204 deep-space
missions while employed at the Garrison. He was married to Kay
Greeny and had a son named Socket.”
Another man entered the scene. He could’ve
been a Paladin, but the hair was down to his shoulders. I walked
around to get a better view.
Pivot .
Dad showed him something on the workbench.
The room continued with details about his everyday life, stuff my
mom told me over the years. Stuff everyone knew. But all the good
stuff was classified. Space missions. Inventions.
Spindle entered the room.
“Pivot knew him,” I said. “Why didn’t you
tell me?”
“You did not ask.”
“Didn’t you think I’d want to know?”
“I do not see thoughts, Master Socket.”
“Well, you can use logic, can’t you?” I
said. “It doesn’t take a genius to calculate that I’d want to know
about my father!”
I get tested for this and that and no one
explained anything. Bullshit.
“There is not much to know.” Spindle’s face
was blue. “Pivot has always been withdrawn, but he responded to
your father. The Paladin Nation encouraged their relationship in
hopes Pivot would fully develop.”
“Develop? What’s that mean?”
“Pivot emits an extraordinary level of
psychic energy. He is a minder of another breed. His energy has a
profound impact on other Paladins. His presence increases other
Paladins’ powers.”
“So they’re using him. They’re leeching off
him, is that it? They’re taking from him, does he know that?
Spindle’s face turned many colors. “Pivot
provides the Paladin Nation with precognition.”
“He can see the future?”
“It is not so much the future, but a
deduction of events to come.”
“Deduction of events…” I shook my head.
“That’s the future , Spindle. He’s helping them see the
future.”
“The odds of future events,” Spindle said,
proudly.
No wonder they built him a jungle. He gave
them the ability to see what would happen. There was no limit to
that. They were rich: building a jungle for the future was a wise
investment no matter how many trillions of dollars it took.
“So that’s why they keep him,” I said.
“They’re using him to watch the future.”
“They are not using him like a tool, if that
is what you mean. Pivot is a remarkable and highly valued
cadet…”
He blabbered the company line, again.
Instead of remarkable and highly valued he should’ve just
said Pivot was a great commodity. Getting a real answer from
Spindle was impossible. He was programmed, after all. He said what
the programmers wanted him to say. He couldn’t say what they forbid
him to say. He had to follow the script. Every meaningful question
just led to another
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