The Fair & Foul (Project Gene Assist Book 1) (6 page)

Juliane bet he hadn’t. As far as she could tell, Nadia made all the decisions for the both of them. “So what have you been asking it?”

“Whether or not I will impress Nadia’s father later.”

Juliane was close to the end of her patience with her assistant's relationship issues. She closed her eyes, intending to count to ten, but all she could see was Alan's gloating face in her mind. As a result, she asked, more shortly than she might have a mere minute ago, “And what does it say?”

“Outlook cloudy, try back later.”

“I see.” Juliane looked straight at their Total Immersive Reality Emulator. Her eyes darted to the side, and her head cocked ever so slightly as she grasped a stray thought. "So your toy is just a random answer generator."

"I guess it is."

"But people wanted to believe it wasn't random?"

"Why not? What if it wasn't chance? What if out of those twenty other faces, that one side of the die was destined to turn right ways up at just that moment."

"It’s a matter of probability theory. Not destiny," Juliane chided.

"Is it?"

Juliane pondered Chad's question while she stared at her emulator. “I’ll let you leave early today to study up on Daddy Dearest, but tomorrow, if I have a way to show you your potential future, do you think you might just be able to return to our work at hand?”

“Absolutely. You won't regret this.”

Chad disappeared through the doorway before the sounds reached Juliane’s ears.

“I'd better not,” Juliane muttered to the empty room.

After an all-night marathon of software tweaks, the Total Immersive Reality Emulator was ready for another round of testing. Chad fidgeted by the side of the fabric entranceway, his earpiece and microphone already fixed in position.

“Whenever you are ready.”

Juliane watched as he stepped through the archway, the LEDs on each pillar beginning their familiar scan. She clipped on her own microphone while her displays came to life, showing an image of the exterior of one of the local restaurants from the vantage point of a car pulling into a parking space. Nadia was in the passenger seat, and she remained there even after the car came to a complete stop, as if waiting for Chad—who had been in the driver’s seat in this simulation—to open the door for her. He must have also made this realization as the display showed him acting like a classic gentleman.

Nadia entered the restaurant first, and a man rose from the bar area to greet her. Nadia was an attractive woman, and this man possessed a more than passing resemblance, obviously her father. Her face lit up as they embraced, and she gestured over in Chad’s direction. Juliane’s earpiece throbbed with the din of the restaurant bar area. “Dad, I’d like to introduce you to Chad.” Her father nodded his head briefly in acknowledgement, but the smile that had been on his face when greeting Nadia was severely diminished. The hostess came up to let them know that their table was now ready.

Juliane watched as the dinner scene played out. As she had expected, Chad allowed himself to forget that he was essentially in a program and began to react more naturally. They spent perhaps five minutes talking about his life as an AL and his most recent work; the rest of the conversation focused on Nadia, but Juliane could tell that Nadia’s father hadn't warmed to Chad. Juliane fingers flew over her display, toggling a keyed sequence. The simulation jumped ahead. Chad and Nadia were in an apartment, most likely Nadia’s from its interior. Nadia explained to Chad why they just weren’t going to work out.

Chad made repeated attempts to change her mind, but nothing worked. A glowing light shown under the apartment door. Chad went toward it, and the simulation started over, once again in the car.

The entire process repeated, beginning at the restaurant. Each time, Chad tweaked his response per Juliane’s instruction, until dinner ended with Nadia’s father shaking his hand and Nadia showing her appreciation back at the apartment. Juliane shut down the simulation.

“So, do you feel more ready now?” she asked Chad as he exited the arches.

“It was definitely nice to have a reset button, but you can’t know for certain that he was going to react that way. I mean, I’ve never even met him. I’ve only seen his photograph.”

“That might be true if I based the simulation on only your brain patterns. But while you were obsessing over the unknown, I was adjusting the program to look up supplemental digital information. Now, the system doesn't just create a simulation based on your brain patterns; it also creates a response profile based on digital history—in this case, Nadia’s and her father’s social media interactions, browsing history, and spending behaviors. Using that data as a reference point, the system was able to incorporate their probable reactions into its prediction of your future, even though it has never taken their readings.”

“Er . . . not that I am not completely impressed, but doesn’t that violate their privacy somehow?”

“It might have been more black and white fifty years ago or so, but it’s more of a gray area today. The data is out there, just waiting to be utilized, as long as you know the right channels to go through—and I do. Now, I believe you made me a promise yesterday.”

“Well, you technically can't say you showed me the future.”

"I never promised that. I said I would show you your probable future. You have to admit what I've done is far better than your silly Magic 8 Ball. Shall we get back to work?"

"Forget about the presentation. You could make billions with this playing the stock market."

“Please. We’ve only barely begun to scratch the surface of its potential.”

“Well . . . you’re the boss. What do you need from me? Should I go and get you some more coffee?”

“You should get a few cups for yourself as well. Neither of us will be sleeping again anytime soon.”

Juliane smiled. Her system's predictive model wasn’t perfect, there would always be some element of chaos, but it was pretty impressive nonetheless. A butterfly had flapped its wings in the Amazon, triggering a breeze that changed the weather pattern, resulting in Nadia wearing a light jacket, but Chad reported that the evening as a whole had played out so closely to the simulation that it almost felt scripted. Chad surprised her by making good on his promise. Juliane could only assume that Nadia was pleased with his performance. In any event, there had been no further debate about personal privacy, and the last few weeks leading up to the symposium passed without further interruption.

The new predictive capabilities were a benefit that could gain the attention of analysts on Wall Street, but she and Chad both knew it would be impossible to capture the market's attention if the only exposure to the technology was from one-on-one demonstrations. They had to make it bigger, much bigger, and make it a shared experience. With that in mind and Louis's signature on the bottom line, Juliane and Chad built up several other scanner pillars. These pillars, once assembled, would transform the entire presentation room into an emulation chamber.

Satisfied that all her equipment had been packaged and shipped to her standards, she made her way to the airport. After the grueling pace, Juliane was grateful that the ACI had taken care of making all of the arrangements. The gate assignment on her ticket stub had brought her to a portion of JFK she had never known existed. It was a private hangar on the far side of the airfield, and she had reached it only by boarding a small trolley car.

When she entered the hangar, she was met with the sight of a single aircraft, whose image was mirrored in the high-gloss hangar floor. The aircraft itself could be considered a work of art by some circles. It featured a blended wing and body rather than the more traditional tubular fuselage and separate wing design. Juliane had heard that the various aircraft builders had been refining similar constructions for the past several decades as a way of trying to make aircraft quieter and more fuel efficient, but to date, the only adopters were those whose stock valuations could handle a bit more risk in their fleet management. The ACI logo was visible from every angle in the hangar.

Juliane smirked as she found herself wondering if the Evans men were the type to overcompensate for shortcomings through acquisition of large, fast, and expensive toys, and she attempted to muffle a chuckle before someone overheard and forced her to explain herself. A glance around soon proved that she hadn't needed to worry. Louis was nowhere in sight. Juliane realized she was relieved yet disappointed. As she entered the craft, she paused in the entranceway. Louis might not be there, but she wasn't flying alone. Seated in one of the many swiveling, leather-clad chairs, was a man pouring himself a drink. She’d never seen him before.

Juliane's eyelashes were longer than the man's hair, so blond it was nearly white. He wore a tailored suit similar in style to one of Louis’s, which had to cost more than what she paid for rent in a month. As she crossed the threshold, he stood at attention, like a gentleman of old, but had to be close to the same age as Louis. He stepped toward her while placing the drink to the side in one graceful motion, and he clasped her hand in his own. She was taken aback at how very strong his grip was.

“Ah, you must be Dr. Faris. I’m Durham Ladensham, professional entourage and part-time legal counsel, at your service.” He must have seen Juliane’s wince at the strength of his handshake as he immediately softened his hold. “My apologies. I’ve recently taken up fencing and occasionally forget that my grip is significantly greater than it used to be.”

Juliane attempted to smile back in understanding but wasn’t quite sure how to process his statement. She’d never encountered anyone who had taken up fencing as a sport. The people she typically interacted with tended not to take up any sport unless required to by their doctor; even then, it was typically either jogging or golf.

He continued, misinterpreting the cause of her hesitation. “I’m a longtime friend of Louis’s, and he asked me to serve as your unofficial tour guide while he wraps up a few other details ahead of the symposium. Don’t worry. He’ll be joining us in Vegas.”

Juliane raised a single eyebrow. So Louis thought she needed a traveling companion, did he? What did he think she was going to do? Wander off and miss her chance to stand in the spotlight?

“He’s not told me much about what you are getting ready to present,” Durham continued, oblivious to her reaction. “He likes to keep even those of us closest to him guessing until the main event, but I am hoping that you might be a little more loose-lipped.” He smiled, daring her with his eyes.

Juliane met his gaze and shrugged. If Louis wanted to play coy with his friend, she could play along, but first, she had to dispense with any suggestion that she was some country maiden in need of an escort. Without breaking eye contact, she moved to the aircraft railing and swept up the drink he had been in the process of pouring. She raised the glass to her lips, halving its contents. She tasted smoke as the rich scotch warmed her belly. It was the type of drink one might suggest would put hair on your chest. Certainly not one a stranger would have poured for a lady. She savored the flavor before asking, “So, fencing?”

Juliane felt victorious as his eyes left hers, tracking the motion of the glass. His smile deepened in appreciation along with the tone of his voice. Her message had been received.

“Well, it’s hard to keep up with the old lacrosse circuit when you travel as much as I do. I felt like the ultimate FOGO. I figured that, this way, all I have to do is find a club nearby.” He shrugged.

“Sorry, I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about.”

“Oh, well, some of us aren’t as lucky as you are, and have to find other ways to maintain our girlish figures.” Durham snorted at his own joke.

“It’s not been that hard. I just don’t go out to eat much.” Actually, Juliane forgot to eat altogether some days. It depended on how engrossed she was with her work and whether or not Chad was around to remind her that Nadia was waiting on him for their next meal. “No, what I meant was I have no idea what FOGO is.”

“Oh, I see. Louis and I played on the same team for a while. FOGO: Face Off, Get Off. I felt like I would only show for a game and then wouldn’t see the team again until the following season. Louis has this huge banner of the WLA, er, Welsh Lacrosse Association, on one of the walls at his place. I tend to forget that not everyone grew up with the terminology.”

The crew must have completed their final safety checks because the aircraft door was closed, and an attendant interrupted the conversation, motioning them to take their seats. Juliane sank into the plush cushion. “I may never be able to fly coach ever again,” she sighed, sinking even further with the jet’s rapid acceleration.

“Well, if your presentation goes even a fraction as well as Louis anticipates, I suspect you may never have to. Welcome to the good life.” He had poured himself another drink right before their ascent and raised his glass from his own seat. She returned the gesture, emptying the balance of her glass.

Their ascent was over before Juliane could put her glass down. As soon as cruising altitude was reached, Durham swiveled in his chair toward her. “So what is the big hush-hush project anyway?”

“Does Louis normally keep you in the dark about these sort of things?”

“Normally? No, which is why I am now so intrigued. I’m not just a pretty face here. I like to know what is going on so that I can advise him on what he needs to do to come out on top.”

Juliane shrugged. “Well, I suppose he has his reasons this time for keeping you in the dark. I would hate to ruin whatever he has planned.” Juliane watched the smile slip from Durham’s face for a moment. He bowed his head, and when he raised it again, he did so with a fox’s grin.

“Well, we are heading to Vegas with some time to kill. How about I play you for the information?”

“What kind of game do you have in mind?”

“How about the game of kings?”

“What? Chess?”

“The fact that you even caught that reference tells me that it’s a great choice. You’re a genius, right? Well, then, you’ve got nothing to fear. What do you say?”