Velvet Dogma About 3300 wds by Weston Ochse Page A
Authors: Weston Ochse
Tags: Science-Fiction
Ads: Link
them from windows high on the wall. An intercom came to life.
"Input Levy number."
"Require voice override," said Andy.
"Levy number not recognized," came the computerized voice again. "Input Levy number."
"Command voice override." He rolled his shoulders to release the tension.
"Levy Number—zzzt —May I help you?"
"Sure. We're here to see—"
"Agnes Navarro," she supplied.
"We're here to see Agnes Navarro."
"Are you family?"
Andy glanced at Rebecca. She shrugged her shoulders and nodded. He addressed the door. "Yes. Her granddaughter is here."
"Hold a moment." Then the voice was gone.
He looked at her and swallowed. "This could be it."
A sudden noise startled her, the sound of gears grinding to life. Then the door opened. They stepped through and walked over to a chest-high administration desk. Three tiled hallways intersected in the admin area. A few patients shuffled along the walls. In the center hallway rested three portable beds, as if they were waiting for someone. Three women stood behind the counter. All wore dark gray, military-cut, pant suits with Chinese collars. All wore PODs. The nearest one, the owner of the voice, held out a POD for Rebecca to take. "You can view Ms. Navarro in this."
Rebecca stared at the POD like it was a big hairy spider. There was no way she'd take it. She couldn't.
"Ms. Mines is on probation and restricted from anything but Class 1 Automations."
The woman holding the POD grinned, then dropped her outstretched arm. "You're serious."
"Always."
The woman subvocalized as she accessed her POD. When her attention returned, she asked, "What did you do?"
Rebecca suddenly felt more than a little embarrassed. She didn't want to answer that. Was it any of this woman's business anyway?
"Her crime is still classified, and won't be de-classed until 2080. Can we hurry this up?" She loved Andy for his officiousness.
The woman glanced from Rebecca to Andy then lost herself in the POD. "What is it with this family," she mumbled to herself.
Rebecca still heard her. "What does she mean by that?" Rebecca whispered, to Andy.
"They tried to put David through the same rigmarole, so he hacked his records and invented a criminal history," he answered in a loud voice.
"He did what?"
"Otherwise he'd have never seen her, never been sure he was talking to a construct or your grandmother. It was the only way to see her. He used to joke about it all the time. There, look."
A slim man nearly a head shorter than Rebecca approached. He wore white gloves and the same type of gray military-cut suit the others wore. His black hair was crew-cut, his sideburns long to his chin. His lips were pursed in bureaucratic disdain.
"Ms. Mines. I am Mr. Singh. Come with me."
She and Andy started forward, but the man held up a white-gloved hand. "Just Ms. Mines, please."
"But we're together," Andy pointed out.
"Not in this facility, you aren't." The small man stared back nonplussed. Clearly he was ready for an argument. Rebecca read his body language and said, "It'll be okay, Andy. I'm just gonna see my grandmother."
To her surprise, Andy hugged her. His strong hands pressed against her back. She could smell a hint of balsam. Say Hi for me. In a whisper he added, "She's in corridor three, room 42C. I'll be there when you need me." Then be backed away. He shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded at the G.A.S. man.
The man flicked his gaze disdainfully over Andy once, then turned. "Follow me, please."
A hospital had a certain momentum, nurses and aides and doctors coming and going, saving, prescribing, doing the things they do. Nursing homes were the same to a lesser degree. The patients weren't critical, but there were certain maintenance functions, drugs and therapies for instance, that had to be provided on schedule. Each place generated an energy equal to its output. Rebecca remembered standing in a hallway waiting to give a woman a basket of candy, when she knew something was in
"Input Levy number."
"Require voice override," said Andy.
"Levy number not recognized," came the computerized voice again. "Input Levy number."
"Command voice override." He rolled his shoulders to release the tension.
"Levy Number—zzzt —May I help you?"
"Sure. We're here to see—"
"Agnes Navarro," she supplied.
"We're here to see Agnes Navarro."
"Are you family?"
Andy glanced at Rebecca. She shrugged her shoulders and nodded. He addressed the door. "Yes. Her granddaughter is here."
"Hold a moment." Then the voice was gone.
He looked at her and swallowed. "This could be it."
A sudden noise startled her, the sound of gears grinding to life. Then the door opened. They stepped through and walked over to a chest-high administration desk. Three tiled hallways intersected in the admin area. A few patients shuffled along the walls. In the center hallway rested three portable beds, as if they were waiting for someone. Three women stood behind the counter. All wore dark gray, military-cut, pant suits with Chinese collars. All wore PODs. The nearest one, the owner of the voice, held out a POD for Rebecca to take. "You can view Ms. Navarro in this."
Rebecca stared at the POD like it was a big hairy spider. There was no way she'd take it. She couldn't.
"Ms. Mines is on probation and restricted from anything but Class 1 Automations."
The woman holding the POD grinned, then dropped her outstretched arm. "You're serious."
"Always."
The woman subvocalized as she accessed her POD. When her attention returned, she asked, "What did you do?"
Rebecca suddenly felt more than a little embarrassed. She didn't want to answer that. Was it any of this woman's business anyway?
"Her crime is still classified, and won't be de-classed until 2080. Can we hurry this up?" She loved Andy for his officiousness.
The woman glanced from Rebecca to Andy then lost herself in the POD. "What is it with this family," she mumbled to herself.
Rebecca still heard her. "What does she mean by that?" Rebecca whispered, to Andy.
"They tried to put David through the same rigmarole, so he hacked his records and invented a criminal history," he answered in a loud voice.
"He did what?"
"Otherwise he'd have never seen her, never been sure he was talking to a construct or your grandmother. It was the only way to see her. He used to joke about it all the time. There, look."
A slim man nearly a head shorter than Rebecca approached. He wore white gloves and the same type of gray military-cut suit the others wore. His black hair was crew-cut, his sideburns long to his chin. His lips were pursed in bureaucratic disdain.
"Ms. Mines. I am Mr. Singh. Come with me."
She and Andy started forward, but the man held up a white-gloved hand. "Just Ms. Mines, please."
"But we're together," Andy pointed out.
"Not in this facility, you aren't." The small man stared back nonplussed. Clearly he was ready for an argument. Rebecca read his body language and said, "It'll be okay, Andy. I'm just gonna see my grandmother."
To her surprise, Andy hugged her. His strong hands pressed against her back. She could smell a hint of balsam. Say Hi for me. In a whisper he added, "She's in corridor three, room 42C. I'll be there when you need me." Then be backed away. He shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded at the G.A.S. man.
The man flicked his gaze disdainfully over Andy once, then turned. "Follow me, please."
A hospital had a certain momentum, nurses and aides and doctors coming and going, saving, prescribing, doing the things they do. Nursing homes were the same to a lesser degree. The patients weren't critical, but there were certain maintenance functions, drugs and therapies for instance, that had to be provided on schedule. Each place generated an energy equal to its output. Rebecca remembered standing in a hallway waiting to give a woman a basket of candy, when she knew something was in
Similar Books
