Creation (20 page)

Try as he might, Sam couldn’t find evidence of a single earbud reciting lines to the entertainers or any manner of technological trickery. Jess fell in love with the whole experience. He remembered the small musical group she’d formed in the agro pod and revived in the village. Hearing professionals for the first time brought tears to her eyes. He wished he could keep her there forever. They could live in a small apartment with the twins. Hell, with his money they could own half the city.

The opulence of what they could do sobered him quickly. To be part of such a society would be wonderful, to own it a degradation. The play continued as he reached out to hold Jess’s hand, knowing her attention was wrapped in the performance and not wandering recklessly down ill-advised pathways. Her touch helped him focus on the here and now.

As they joined the throng of people leaving the theater, a nicely appointed hovercraft pulled up directly in front. Ed’s voice carried both the concern of a well-intentioned bodyguard and the subtleness of someone trying to seduce the couple with the city’s charm. “We’d feel better if you let us drive you. We can walk you back to the apartment if you prefer, but you have been adapting to earth’s gravity. The ride will be much more comfortable, and if you’d like, we can take you on a little airborne tour of New York. Nice little nightcap and glide around the city lights to finish off the evening?”

Sam’s body melted into the luxurious seat. “I loved the theater experience, but did they have to include making the chairs so damn uncomfortable?”

Jess patted his hand as she too slumped into the seat that formed around her. “Be nice. I loved everything about that play. The restored theater, so many people all dressed so elegantly, the live performers you could practically reach out and touch—I just loved all of it.” Her eyes closed, reliving the memories.

“Fair enough. It was wonderful. But damn, these chairs are comfortable.”

Ed materialized in the front seat. “These vehicles are all automated, no driver required. But they maintain the front driver seat just in case any should develop a problem. There’s champagne in the cabinet in front of you. I’ll pop in if you need me, but otherwise, I’ll leave you to enjoy the ride.”

The champagne teased at Sam’s nose but relaxed his body. “Thank you, Ed.”

Jess removed the device from her eye and ear. “Look at all those lights. Every building must be lit up. I can’t even imagine the power required. And it’s like this for twelve hours?”

Sam looked out the large glass canopy of the hovercraft. “Pretty much. Night lasts longer in the winter, shorter in the summer.”

Jess gave him a quizzical look. “Right, I forget Earth doesn’t rely on solar arrays. So strange to just have the sun dumping all that energy on the planet.”

“If they’d only realized what they’d been throwing away for thousands of years.”

A sparkling light below the buildings caught his attention. In place of the roads he and Jess had wandered, this part of the city extended out into the harbor, every street flooded with water. “Ed, what’s with the streets?”

Their invisible companion rematerialized. “The environmental crises led to water levels that couldn’t be contained, at least not for most of the city. Some areas, like Broadway, have been dammed off so New York maintains its original feel. But most of the city is submerged up to the third floor.”

The light reflected in Jess’s eyes. “I think it’s lovely even if the reason for it isn’t.”

Sam held her close. Nothing was going to ruin her evening. Not even the potential destruction of Earth.

The hovercraft made a lazy circle about the city. Jess turned her head around the small space, taking it all in. Her hand held the device. “What’s that building, the big one?”

She could have put the device on, but Sam realized it was more about the communication than the information. He followed the direction of her delicate finger. Information flooded his memory. The challenge was to sieve out what would be interesting. “That’s the Empire State Building. It dates back to the 1930s, used to be the tallest building in the world for something like forty years. They remodeled it top to bottom fifty years ago. Practically took it back down to the girders and rivets.”

Exact numbers, dates, historical data, movies filmed there, all scrolled through his memory.

Jess smiled as Sam scrunched his eyes from the data. “I’m sorry. I guess asking questions is kind of a bad idea.”

Sam shook his head. “No, not a bad idea. I have to get used to this mountain of information. Better practicing with you than having my brain short-circuit in some board meeting.”

She leaned back against his chest, her head resting on his shoulder. “Ed, could we have some music? Something appropriate for New York?”

Without materializing, the bodyguard activated the sound system. Sam couldn’t make out any speakers. The music soothed them from all directions. None of the songs were ones he knew, at least not any he remembered from his previous life. Jess seemed content to sip her drink, marvel at the wonderful lights, and enjoy the ambiance.

As the bottle drained to the halfway mark, the hovercraft sat down gently on the tallest skyscraper in New York, the Rendition building.

S
am had
trouble seeing the office as his own. Even if he were running the company, what would be the point of so much room? But then, he was seldom alone. Jess enjoyed lounging out in the patio gardens, weather permitting, while Lud, Ellie, and Joshua helped him come to terms with his new reality.

Jess entered from the patio while ominous storm clouds rolled in, and the elevator doors burst open. Everything about the man who entered spoke of aristocracy: his tall, thin stature, the impeccably tailored suit that he wore with the ease of someone born to the attire and, most of all, the way he held his head, tilted just high enough that he peered down the regal ski slope of his nose.

Ellie and Joshua dropped their focus to their toes as Lud pushed off the desk to greet the intruder. “Jacques, I told you we’d meet later. Sam still needs some orientation before we tackle more problems.”

The way Jacques raised one side of his upper lip spoke volumes about the conflict that must have existed between the two men. “Can’t say I like what you’ve done to
my
office.”

“We agreed I’d give up my penthouse headquarters and you’d give up this space,” Lud said. “Sam is the founder and majority owner in Rendition. This matter was voted on by the board at your insistence.”

Sam breathed a little easier knowing Lud was on his side.
Always pick the football linebacker over the privileged gentry in a brawl.
But this wasn’t a conflict of Sam’s doing. He stood and extended a hand toward the gentleman. “I’m Sam Adamson, as I guess you already know. But I’m still at a loss as to Rendition’s corporate structure.”

“Jacques Saint Clare. If Lud is the voice of the Tobes for Rendition, you could consider me the advocate for the human race. He acts as CEO and I as President.” Jacques removed his hand from Sam’s after the briefest of handshakes. The way he rubbed his fingertips together left Sam wondering if Jacques was wishing for a handkerchief to wipe his hand clean.

Just by showing up, Sam knew he’d created conflict. Of course, the penthouse and office had been too grand to just sit empty, waiting for him to come back from the dead. He felt stupid not to have seen that. Everything they did, every courtesy Rendition extended, every dollar they spent, would have ramifications for other people.
We’re not on Chariklo anymore.

“What’s this about me taking your offices?” Sam asked, directing the question to both high-powered men.

Lud launched into his explanation before Jacques had a chance. “It’s not a problem. We have plenty of office space in this building. Your position comes with certain privileges, these two floors being only one. I’m sure Sophie mentioned there were some irritated executives when she cleared her schedule for you. It’s just part of your life. And Jacques knows it.”

Damn, I’d forgotten about that. There must be some powerful, pissed-off people in the wake of my return.
Sam did his best to keep from asking mental questions that the Tobes would feel compelled to answer. But the recriminations weren’t ideas he could afford to ignore.

“Only while you’re here on Earth. Once you go home, I’ll move back here, and Lud will move back upstairs, over me. This is temporary.” Jacques’s eyes narrowed to slits as he inspected each item of furniture.

I happen to prefer the less overpowering look,
Sam thought.

We thought you might. Mr. Saint Clare’s office reminded us of a holy father’s office from the Spanish inquisition: beautiful and ornate but with an aura of terror,
Sam received in reply.

Jess pressed her body next to Sam’s. “I’d consider it a favor if you’d joined us for our discussion, Mr. Saint Clare. We need to understand the Tobes better, but we need the human side of the equation as well.”

The aquiline chin dropped only slightly. “I’m a busy man, Mrs. Adamson. But I suppose defending humanity might be a better use of my time today.”

“Thank you.” Jess brushed the dirt from her gardening outfit. “With so many high-powered executives in the room, I was about to ask Joshua for the Tobes’ take on money. Not our money—I don’t care about that. But about how the economy operates in general.”

The laugh of derision from Jacques lasted for only one syllable. “You think your money is separate from everyone else’s? What happens to people’s lives is directly influenced by how the Tobes manipulate what you own.”

Funny how topics follow thoughts.
Especially thoughts Sam didn’t want to focus on. Even if they hadn’t come to Earth, their wealth carried consequences. And in the hands of beings who considered him their god, those actions wouldn’t be minor. No one used the power of god to do small things.

Sam turned to Lud. “I don’t understand. I thought our wealth was just in stocks,” he said in a desperate gambit that he wouldn’t be blamed for all of Earth’s problems.
I’m just a stockholder, not the real power.

“To say it’s complicated would be an understatement.” Lud turned to Joshua. “You want to have a go at explaining the situation?”

But before Joshua could launch into what Sam was sure would be a theoretical hypothesis on wealth distribution, Jacques cut in. “Why don’t we take a little tour of Jersey City, let you see firsthand what that money is up to? You’ve seen Broadway and Times Square. I think it might be time for a reality check on how most people live.”

“Give us a minute to get changed, and we’ll meet you at the shuttle.” Jess grabbed Sam by the hand and pulled him to the elevator before anyone could voice an objection.

* * *

T
he corporate shuttle
easily accommodated the four human passengers and three Tobes—Ed had insisted on coming along. Jacques took the controls, adding to Ed’s fidgeting as he materialized in the copilot’s seat. The 139-story building had only the one landing pad—and only one shuttle. And that shuttle magically had nothing better to do today than take Sam and his party on a little joy ride? Not likely. Somewhere, someone would once again be swearing under their breath for the inconvenience the founder of Rendition’s visit had caused.

There must be other vehicles somewhere.
But none would be as grand, or as convenient, as this one.

The shuttle flew low over the water canals between the high-rise buildings. But the lovely view from above that Sam and Jess had shared the night before was more ominous closer to street level. Buildings of architectural beauty sat atop lower floors of reinforced concrete bunkers, all eerily the same.

Lud yelled over the noise of the shuttle’s jets. “It was part of New York’s redevelopment and hydrological abatement plan. Most of these skyscrapers were rebuilt from the inside out to deal with the hurricanes and street flooding. They had to accept the lower five floors being sealed watertight. Below all those artificial rivers are glassed-in walkways. Combined with the skyways, riverboats, and shuttles, getting around is easier than it’s ever been.”

Jacques sneered at Lud. “In Manhattan, sure. Anyone with the money to live here has it easy.”

As the shuttle passed between the last two high-rises to join the traffic crossing the Hudson River, Sam got his first glimpse of Jacques’s disdain. Buildings on the New York side, big, shiny, and reinforced, looked to have pummeled their New Jersey brethren.

Jacques slowed the shuttle, taking it into a ninety-degree turn to follow the river. Sam leaned over Jess to watch the dilapidated structures that barely stood at attention for their review. Waves from the ships that plied the river washed through the lower floors and didn’t stop for blocks of what used to be known as inland. Only every third building had windows, the rest having been blown out by the passing hurricanes.
Abandoned
would have been a generous term. But the fires that burned on the various floors spoke of tenants still attempting to find shelter in the wrecks of concrete and steel.

Sam focused hard on one floor to make out the battered, homeless souls.
Without the support of those who cared about me when I was lost, I’d be right there with you. Support I foolishly took for granted.
Maybe there was something he could do. Gods, at least the mythical ones he’d heard of in his youth, were supposed to have power.

The shuttle banked into an opening between two crumbling structures. A large complex of buildings stood a block away, waves splashing up along the saturated floors. But the upper stories had windows and external reinforced support, ugly metal bars that did nothing for the architectural beauty but kept the building upright.

“Ninety-nine Hudson Street. It used to be one of the gems of New Jersey before the waters took it,” Jacques yelled back from the controls.

Ed leaned over from his copilot’s seat. “I’m not comfortable using this place as an example. There are other buildings that would be safer.”

Sam wrapped his arm around Jess’s waist. He knew the roughness of inner cities. He’d avoided them, knowing his own street smarts would only keep him from the most obvious of dangers. But such distrust of humanity wouldn’t be a part of her nature.

“Nonsense, Sam owns this building. Who’d be safer in a structure than the landlord?” Jacques banked the shuttle up to land on the empty roof.

“I own it?” Sam asked, confused. Chunks of concrete were missing from the building’s exterior. The steel structure that kept it upright reminded him of a cage dropped over a frightened animal.
Why on Earth would you think this is something I’d want?

As the engines shut down, Joshua turned to Jacques. “You could at least give us a chance to explain the history of the situation before you subject Sam and Jess to the results.”

“Fair enough. Even I’d like to hear your take on these buildings,” Jacques said.

“New York had a plan,” Joshua began. “It wasn’t popular with those who didn’t think climate change was a problem. It was wildly expensive. And it took years to complete, and every one of those years the city struggled to keep it on track. But there was money in the city, lots of it. And the nation didn’t want to lose one of its signature metropolises.”

Jacques tapped on the controls. “If you’re going to go back that far, this explanation is going to take all day. New York had money. New Jersey didn’t. Therefore, Jersey City wasn’t prepared for the flooding. Get on with it.”

“We couldn’t let these people die.” A vein in Lud’s temple pulsed as he talked. “We were trying to help. With every passing hurricane, more structures collapsed with people in them. The Tobes convinced us we should buy up some buildings and reinforce them so the tenants wouldn’t get swept out to sea. What did you expect Rendition to do—just leave these buildings to the slumlords? Do you really believe anyone would be better off if we’d kept out of it?”

Jacques turned to Lud. “We would’ve been better off. You and your Tobes bought the proverbial sinking ship out here. Even leaving the amount of money out of the equation for a minute, these people hate us, hate Rendition, and would burn us to the ground if they had the chance.”

“That’s not true.” Ellie had remained quiet, but her eyes flashed with intensity. “We’ve done some good. These people chose not to leave when we gave them a chance. That’s not our fault.”

“Let’s go meet some of those people. What do you say?” Jacques unbuckled his flight harness.

Jess followed suit. “I want to see this situation for myself. You can all argue the theory behind it later.”

Sam barely caught up with her as she scampered out of the parked shuttle. A building full of hostile tenants who, if they’d known the passengers’ true identities, would tar and feather Sam, and Jess as well, didn’t seem like a place to dive into headfirst. “I’m not sure this is a good idea. If Ed’s not comfortable with your safety, maybe it’d be better if you stayed up here.”

The squint-eyed look she shot at him was all the answer he needed. He never stood a chance when she got something firmly in her head.

In desperation, Sam turned to Ed, who’d never left Jess’s side. “How dangerous is this, really?”

“You and Jess are less of a concern than Lud and Jacques,” Ed said. “There are Tobes in here, and they’ll make sure any human who might mean you harm is kept at bay. In spite of our loyalty to the people we know, you are considered God. It helps for situations like this, in which we’re trying to keep your identity secret. The same is not true for the CEO and president of the company that owns this building. Then there’s your attire. At least you two don’t look like you own more than everyone in this tenement combined. Even if the truth is very different, people tend to judge based on looks. Being dressed to impress is more likely to get you shot in Jersey City.”

Peachy. Even if we’re not targets, we’re traveling with men who are. Maybe we could just push Jacques through each door first just to see if anyone wants to take a potshot at us.
It wasn’t a very dignified thought. For a moment, Sam was glad it wasn’t something he’d said out loud. Then he remembered that privacy didn’t mean what it used to.
Sorry, disregard that last thought. It wasn’t worthy of a god.

The bashed-in metal door to the top floor squeaked open on abused hinges. Someone had used a battering ram on the door, and not long ago, based on the fresh look of the scrapes. Sounds of life greeted Sam as he followed Ed into the maze of dwellings: children crying, yells of anger, and the all-too-frequent pounding of an object against some part of the structure.