He unfolded it, revealing a parka, and tried it on. Frowning, he glanced at her. “The site said ‘fits true to size.’ Does this look like it fits true to size?”
“Looks a bit small on you,” Horatio commented.
“I gave the site permission to use my biometric profile,” Will said. “Went through the whole virtual fitting crap. The lying bastards. Well, that’s what I get for trying to rush the purchase in before my date. Ah well, I’m not going to return it now. Suppose it’ll do.” He shrugged off the parka and tossed it onto the couch, then sat down beside the garment.
Rhea had returned her gaze to the window.
“Looking at your usual private world?” Will asked. “Your secret augmented reality overlays?”
“No,” Rhea said sadly. “Just the real world.”
“What’s wrong?” Will asked.
“Am I that transparent?” Rhea replied.
“Uh huh,” Will told her.
She swallowed, then glanced at her friends, but was unable to hold their collective gazes. She let her eyes drift to the window.
“I thought this would feel like home,” she said. “But it doesn’t. I miss Earth. I miss Rust Town.”
“No surprise there,” Will said. “I could have told you this would happen.”
“Come now,” Horatio said. “No need to be so insensitive.”
“A machine, telling me I’m insensitive,” Will quipped. “That’s a new one.”
“After so many years spent in the company of humans, I’ve learned to be attentive to such matters,” Horatio said. “In any case, it’s obvious she’s not happy.”
“Yeah.” Will glanced at her. “Are you sure it’s Rust Town you miss, and not the attention?”
“Maybe both,” she admitted. “In Rust Town I was the Warden. Here, I’m a nobody.”
“Not a nobody,” Will told her. “You’re a somebody to us.”
She gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you. I do appreciate it.”
“Besides, I’m sure the local government has an inkling of who you are,” Will said. “While the ordinary citizens of this colony might not watch Earth’s streaming channels—mostly because of network latency—the Europans have automated agents planetside, agents specifically designed to monitor our channels and send back summarized reports on a regular basis. The government knows who you are, I guarantee you. They’ve probably been watching you since your arrival. Or their AI has.”
“Somehow that’s not very reassuring,” she said.
“It’s not supposed to be,” Will told her. “It’s meant mostly as a warning.”
“To behave?” she asked.
“Basically,” he replied.
She remembered the friendly face of the customs official, a face operated by the very same AI responsible for the entire colony, by its own admission. It would have recorded her ID in that moment and cross-linked it to her Earth persona. Yes, Will was right: they knew the Warden was here. But so far, they didn’t really seem to care.
Over the next few days, she did her sightseeing, and was not bothered by the government. She was constantly aware of all the watching eyes upon her, in the form of the dome cameras affixed to the buildings, and their interior concourses.
She visited most of the major buildings and tourist attractions, and even got her Externals skiing session in. Will grudgingly came along for the latter, and after falling three times in a row, skidding all the way to the bottom, he gave up. Rhea did little better, and accidentally jetted into the dome while trying to avoid another skier. She made a few new dents in her body, but at least she didn’t need repairs.
Three days passed. The AI had yet to notify her of any unscheduled arrivals at the space terminal. She complained to Will about it.
“What if someone arrived and the AI is concealing it from me?” Rhea asked him.
“It’s certainly possible,” Will agreed. “Though I’m not sure what the AI would have to gain by that.”
“Maybe the Europans want to see me assassinated,” Rhea said. “Maybe they’re worried I’ll foment discontent among the less fortunate, as I did in Rust Town, and stir them to revolution.”
“There’s hardly any ‘less fortunate’ here,” Will said. “The classes seem about equal, from what I can tell. They’d have to be, to be able to afford migration from Europa.”
“Well, either way, the government probably feels I’m up to no good,” Rhea said.
“You think too highly of yourself,” Will said. “Honestly, I don’t believe they care all that much about your presence. They’ll monitor you, yes, but abet your death? I doubt it.”
If they knew who she really was, they might consider assassinating her, Horatio sent over a private mental channel.
There, see? Rhea transmitted over the same encrypted channel, without opening her mouth. Even Horatio agrees with me.
Except, they don’t know who you really are, Will commented.
Rhea had been very careful not to mention her Ganymedean roots out loud, not even in the privacy of the short-term rental. And whenever she or any of her companions got close to mentioning it, they always switched to encrypted mental communications. They weren’t going to risk being overheard, or having their lips read, by an AI. There were likely hidden microphones and cameras embedded everywhere, even here, keeping the all-seeing, all-knowing AI of the colony informed. If it was discovered that she was a Ganymedean, the local government would seriously wonder at her intentions. That government might dispel her, confine her, or worse; perhaps even assassinate her like Horatio said.
“I want to talk to the colony’s AI.” Rhea glanced up. “Well AI, call me.”
“It’s not going to respond just like that,” Will said. “And admit it’s spying on us.”
Rhea waited, then frowned when no call came. “Why keep up the ruse?”
She accessed the local Internet via her HUD and pulled up the main site for the colony. She found the “Contact Us” card and activated it.
The familiar women from customs appeared in front of her. “Hello again, Rhea. I trust your visit to our colony has been pleasant?”
“It’s been great,” she said, which wasn’t a lie.
“Excellent,” the holographic woman said. “What can I help you with today?”
“I’m calling because I wanted to double-check with you that no unscheduled ships have arrived,”
