"Then the gluk would just pounce and attack."
"Exactly. They are afraid we're teasing the monsters and they'll attack because of it."
"That's insane!"
"Only because we know it's insane. They don't. Like I said, Lancaster is trying to protect the masses from everything he doesn't know. It's a very big universe, Jake. Big and scary, especially when there's been millions of years of humans having the time at night to look into the blackness and imagine the worst."
That was later. And I suppose Ralph has a point. I even think Lancaster had a point, though really was wrong. At least he was trying to keep people safe. He thought he was doing good for humanity. That's what fueled him, I suppose. By the time they had the court guards dragging him off, he'd raged against the evils of StarTech so loudly that his voice was only a harsh squeak. The room was silent after the doors slammed shut, and I could see and feel that everyone was embarrassed for him.
Kudlow waited until the room began to fill with murmurs again before he spoke. "Next order of business is to open up that damn sani-box and let you out of there, Mr. Cosworth." He ignored the shocks from some members of the crowd, and even the uncertain comments from some on the panel. "We have the full reports, by both their scientists and our independent team. There is absolutely no threat of any kind of contamination. Besides, it's got to be hot as hell in that thing."
It was, too. I was sweating as if I was in the middle of a conditioning routine. The door behind me opened and the little man was there ushering me out. He brought me into the large room again, only this time away from the sani-box and to a table and chairs directly in front of the panel. I took a seat and could feel the eyes of a thousand people burning into the back of my head.
"Better, Mr. Cosworth?"
Better by what standard? But at least I could breathe. "Yes, thank you," I said. For some reason, the press loved that. I could hear clicking and see the flashing and feel the mumblings of approval.
"Very good! Now, I would ask the press to refrain from any more flash photography. I'm getting one helluva head ache. Besides, the holocorders are bright enough for any picture. And if one more flash zaps my eyes, I will black out the rest of this meeting, I assure you. It's been a long and ridiculous day and has sadly spun way off the intended course. I'm one infraction away from following Lancaster's lead and snapping, and I can assure every member of the audience that my ire will be turned on them if they try my patience."
Edward Kudlow grew even greater in my estimation. As far as I could tell, he was at the same level as the other IOC panel members. His great robed outfit was the same, had the same stripes and colors. And yet, everyone just accepted him stepping into Lancaster's abandoned position.
"We have, unfortunately, started things off on rocky footing, haven't we? I admit that we've all got reservations about StarTech. We must. That is our job, the reason the IOC exists. However, I'd like to formally apologize for the questions of the arbiter, both to you and those who testified before. This is not supposed to be an inquiry into the entire organization. It's not the time nor place, and I believe I speak for the entire panel when I apologize for allowing one member's personal agenda to dig up dirt in front of an international press sidetrack us. I should have put a stop to that line of questioning when he made the poor Donnely girl cry." He waited. I didn't know for what at first, but after a moment the rest of the panel chimed in their apologies. When he was satisfied that a true apology had been given, he continued.
"Now. Let us start off on the right foot. On behalf of the IOC, I'd like to welcome you to Earth, Mr. Cosworth."
"Uh, thanks. And call me Jake." The press murmured again. Would they do that after everything I said?
Yes, as it turned out, they would. Through the entire fricken afternoon. By the end it stopped annoying me and almost became a game.
"Jake it is, then!" And then he sat back and just smiled at me. "Our first human born in space." There was a wonder in his voice that embarrassed me deeply.
"It wasn't anything I could help."
He laughed, as did the panel, as did the press. "No, sir. I expect you couldn't. I've read the reports. Scientifically, you're very close to an Earth born human. Remarkably so."
Something in that annoyed the hell out of me. "Why wouldn't I be?"
He put his hands wide and shrugged. "How should we know? It's never been done, Jake. Don't take it personally. You've been raised by scientists, some of the best. Surely you can understand the fears and trepidations we feel about deep space procreation. And our concerns are not only for ourselves, but for the babies born in low gravity, fed by nutrient mash created from waste. You yourself took quite a deal of conditioning to be able to withstand our gravity."
He meant what he said. He really had read through the data we provided. I made a point to stress that to Christophe later, even after Christophe kept waving it off. "They've been caught," he said. "Of course they're going to fine-tooth-comb it. Now. When it's too late. When the whole world knows the same things. It's pointless now."
Still, I thought it was something, especially since it was clear he didn't just glance through the files, like I did with my HuTA, just to say it was done. Kudlow actually read it. Read it, absorbed it, and took the time to understand. Christophe might not think it was anything special, but I did.
"Was it a difficult transition?" Kudlow was asking.
I could have lied, but had been sworn to tell the truth, so... "Yes, but for many reasons, not just the physical load."
"Please explain."
I opened my mouth, then closed it again. After a few seconds, I shook my head. "I don't know where to start, Arbiter Kudlow."
He laughed. "Mr. Kudlow, if you please. I'm no arbiter." I turned redder, but I don't think anyone noticed. "And I expect it's quite a question. So let us begin at the beginning. You were born on the deep space ship, Condor One, were you not?"
"Yes."
"And raised there?"
And so began the most talkative couple hours of my life. After awhile, other IOC members jumped in and asked me questions. I only remember the ones that keep playing in a loop on the news Lynette makes me watch over and over on my holo.
"What was it like being raised by scientists?"
"What did you eat?"
"What were your duties on board?"
"How old were you before you were allowed an out-trek?"
On and on and on. I answered as fully and honestly as I could, always remembering that Christophe wanted, and Reginald needed, a boring, plain kid. I tried to make it as boring as possible. I stressed the annoying chores, cleaning equipment, eating mash, the mind numbing hours and hours of staring into microscopes and the boring HuTA lessons. I tried to put the most bland spin on it as possible, because if you just look at the facts, it really seemed to be a very dull childhood. I was cramped up, cooped up as they say, in a little tin can the size of a relatively small house, with the same people day in and day out, eating the same thing day in and day out...
The press afterwards did not make it sound boring. They sensationalized it. They glamorized it. I was annoyed, but Reginald said, "What did you expect, Jake? You lived the dream of millions. You grew up in space. The drudgery, the monotony, the daily grind, it was still done in space."
"But it was boring as hell."
He laughed. "To you. Not to them. Never to them. You've lived an extraordinary life, Jake. There is nothing you can say to make it seem any different."
The afternoon filled with questions stretched out. At some point, I got thirsty, and my voice got scratchy. Someone gave me some water and as soon as I sipped, the questions started back up.