NightRacer

Chapter 10

NightRacer was in the army again. This was his second enrollment, and he was a little worried. His teammates looked younger than him, and stronger, and his legs hurt, and damned if he had any shoes on.

There were five of them-new recruits-lined up in front of a building, waiting for orders.

An officer came from behind and grabbed Racer by the arm. "Wake up, son," the officer said and pointed to a door. "And get in there."

"I'm awake, sir!" Racer answered, and he rushed to the door. Then then realized that he was already inside.

"Did you really wake up, son? Do you know who I am?"

Racer recognized the voice. He looked at the guy talking to him. It was Gardener, a younger Gardener, from Earth. Racer was dreaming. He didn't bother to answer. He just gave a thumbs-up.

They were in a giant, dark room. In the middle, engulfed in a spot of bright light and humming, was a large piece of equipment that looked something like a computer from the old sci-fi movies. A technician wearing a white lab coat and some large rubber gloves was handling numerous knobs, buttons, and levers on a control board. The lights suddenly blinked and, before Racer even realized it, the lab technician was facing him. For a fraction of a second, it seemed like the guy's lower body was still facing the computer, and it jerked in place in a blurry twist. The lights blinked again, and Racer realized that the guy's face was very close to his-a little too close for his comfort-and that the odd fellow was staring into his eyes now. "Pick a number, any number," the tech said.

"NightRacer, meet John," Gardener said. "He's a scientist, and as you can see, he's also into theatrics. Just ignore that for now, and give him what he'd asking for."

"Forty-seven," Racer said after pondering on it for a second.

"You are Guest Forty-Seven now," the tech said, pointing to a mirror that appeared on Racer's right. Then he turned around in another blurred motion.

NightRacer didn't recognize the person looking back at him from the mirror. It was a man with a rather generic face and a glowing 47 on his right sleeve. Is that me? he wondered.

"We changed your appearance, son," said Gardener. "Everybody who was invited today is going to use one of these avatars. It's not safe for the guests to know each other's identities. If anybody asks, you're Guest Forty-Seven, an officer from the ship. They'll stop asking questions if you tell them you're from the ship. The ship name also doesn't matter, and they have no business asking for it. Just tell them you're from 'the ship.' That will shut them up."

Why? Racer thought.

"You're wondering why, aren't you?" Gardener said.

"How did you know?" Racer asked, and he thought, Can he read my mind?

"I know you too well, Forty-Seven. You're one of those people who ask questions. They will not ask, because that's a Phoenix ship, and my people are extremely loyal to me. The captain and the engineers are not ours, and they're a little sour, but the crew is as loyal as it gets. Asking questions will only get those people in trouble."

"Understood," Racer said. The reason was actually quite credible. Gardener's team was always good at keeping secrets.

"Now let me explain to you what's going on here. A few congressmen and scientists and a couple of generals are visiting-all from different groups and factions. Some of them may be friendly, some may try to deceive us, and some may try crazy stuff. I'm going to brief them on the Grass and some other...stuff...and, yes, there are going to be surprises. I see you're taking this well."