“Thank you, Chase. Poliks may not even be a person. Maybe it’s a club or a group of some kind.”
I went back to work and discovered a Poliks hotel chain, two restaurants, a type of truck, a species of lizard, six street names, a park, and a book title. The book was a biography of Roger Poliks, who had led a revolt against political corruption in Olconda two hundred years ago. So I switched to direction and looked for avatars. Housman did not have one. That left me with Womack.
he said.
Womack, at first glance, resembled our perception of the classic physicist, a guy so wrapped up in his subject that he has little interest in anything else. I was looking down at him, but I couldn’t be sure the avatar’s height was correct. Whatever the reality, I realized that he wasn’t trying to impress viewers with his physical appearance. He was corpulent, with iron-gray hair and brown eyes that seemed naturally intense.
“Archie, we’re trying to figure out what happened to the Octavia station.”
“Does the word ‘Poliks’ mean anything to you?”
“Pollux? Yes, that could be.”
“One of Charlotte’s messages said there was a problem of some sort, and if it didn’t get resolved, she would let Poliks know.”
“I understand that. Was there anyone connected with the mission named Poliks?”
He shook his head.
“Maybe an organization of some sort?”
“One more question?”
“Why did you sign on for Octavia?”
“Would you do it again?”
I could see the frustration in his eyes. It was one of the few times I’d spoken to an avatar and come away with the impression it had been the actual person.
We got a call later that day from the Arcadia Network. A young guy seated behind a desk looked up at me.
Alex was asleep. He’d been reading about Housman and it put him out. “I’m sorry. We can’t reach him at the moment. Can I help you, Charles?”
The Bruce Colson Show
“Okay. What’s going on?”
Walton had headed the search effort from the QRG when Octavia was lost. “Got it,” I said. “I’ll let him know.”
Alex’s alarm went off an hour later. There was an artifact auction that evening, where he was to represent three clients. The auction was scheduled to start at 8:00 p.m., same time as .
“Record it, Chase,” he said.
I set it up and spent most of what remained of the day talking with people who were putting antiquities on the market. Most of what we see tends to be of current minor value, though much of it has potential. It’s the basic problem with the business we’re in: We can look at lamps and dishware and artwork and know that, in another century, something will have gained some serious value. But it takes more time than we’re willing to put into it. Which is why we’re much more interested in objects that are recovered from a long-abandoned property. Or better yet, using the inclination that I’ve always suspected Alex picked up from Gabe, finding remnants of a lost civilization.
There was one standout offer. A woman called in with a two-hundred-year-old video from the early days of Chuck Orion, the fictional star-pilot hero who fought off all kinds of aliens, interstellar pirates, and human dictators. Chuck had gone on to fame in more than twenty novels and a series of feature-length movies. He was a centerpiece in my early years and one of several reasons I developed a passion for interstellar flight. But her price was unreasonable. I’d have declined had it been my call, but offers like that got passed on to Alex. He surprised me by putting it aside and telling me he’d think about it. “As far as I know,” he said, “this thing was supposed to be lost.”
Finally it was time to quit for the day. I’d set the HV to record . I checked with Gabe and Alex to make sure nobody needed anything. Gabe said he was going out for the evening to play some gordo with his buddies. Gordo, for anyone not familiar with Rimway card games, is a derivative from Earth. You get a hand of five cards and try to match cards or suits and possibly bluff opponents to bail out. Alex told me, as he usually does, to take care on the way home. He added that he hoped Professor Walton had come up with some new information about Octavia. “Maybe she knows somebody named Poliks.”
I stopped for dinner at Lenny’s and evaded a pickup from a guy I felt sorry for because he was so nervous. I got home, showered, changed into pajamas, read for a while, and, at eight, turned on the Arcadia Network.
Bruce Colson’s classic sofa blinked on in my living room, accompanied by the show’s theme music, Valmier’s “Rising Tide Nocturne.” The music implied that the show was of considerable significance. I’d never been one of his fans. He thought highly of himself and didn’t mind showing that inclination to his viewers. As the music revved up, he strode in through a side door and an invisible audience cheered and applauded. He responded with a giant smile and waved in my direction while the cheering continued.
he said. Colson did a few one-liners to get his audience into the right mood. Then the camera pulled back, two guests appeared, and the music faded out. They took seats at a table. Colson joined them and they exchanged jokes about politicians and celebrity scandals. In particular they went after a recent claim by a guy running for governor of Tolk City that persons born on Rimway had a higher IQ than people from other parts of the Confederacy, and that consequently intermarriage should be banned. I’d never heard of the guy before, but the claim had been around for a while. One of the guests commented that you didn’t often hear a political assertion like that.
asked Colson.
Eventually they got to the second half hour. After the commercials, Colson and his table reappeared. We got more music and cheers. He got up from the table and welcomed Lashonda Walton to enthusiastic applause. I hadn’t seen her since the tumultuous days following the disappearance of the station. She hadn’t changed. She was tall, disciplined, in charge. Not the sort of laid-back guest I’d have expected to see on . The host led her to a pair of armchairs, where they sat down facing each other.