Jayson wedged his way between Samaira and Aiden as they filed out of the auditorium.

  “So you guys are cool with this?”

  “Definitely,” said Aiden.

  “I think so, yeah,” added Samaira. “You’re not?”

  “I didn’t say that. I—I don’t know what I think.”

  The trio emerged into the foyer where Parth, Hitarthi, and Luping waited.

  “What did you guys think of that?” asked Parth.

  “It sounds pretty crazy to me,” replied Jayson, “but these two seem on board.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “I think I am too.”

  “What?”

  Jayson shook his head. Were they all out of their minds?

  “It’s not the most appealing idea, but it beats the hell out of the alternative.”

  “What about you guys?”

  “Not sure,” said Hitarthi. “It doesn’t feel real yet.”

  “I’m leaning towards yes,” added Luping.

  “I’m going to take a walk to clear my head,” said Jayson. “It feels like I’m watching all of this happen from outside my body, you know?”

  “Anyone else going back to the residence?” asked Hitarthi. “I need some time to think this over.”

  “I’ll walk with you.”

  She accepted with a nod, and they headed outside together.

  Hitarthi hardly spoke for the short walk back to the residence. Jayson didn’t mind, or even notice, for that matter. He was in his own world, trying to absorb the implications of the briefing.

  “It’s not just me, is it?” she asked. “I mean, this is crazy, right?”

  “Totally nuts.”

  “Why is everyone taking it in stride?”

  “You don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, I guess.”

  “I’ve heard that before. What does it even mean?”

  “I don’t know the literal meaning, but basically, it means you shouldn’t ask too many questions when someone answers your prayers.”

  “I guess.”

  “Want to come for a walk around the point? It might do you some good.”

  “No, thanks.”

  A relief. He needed some time to think.

  “Okay. See you at the thing tonight.”

  As Hitarthi made her way inside, Jayson continued down the path toward the benches where he’d first met Samaira. Though it felt like he’d known her for years, that first meeting seemed only days ago. He shook off the strange feeling—a superposition of perception, he realized—and picked up the pace to get his blood flowing.

  ***

  Jayson arrived for the evening celebration a bit after seven, finding it a more elaborate affair than he’d expected. Numbered tables with linen coverings and immaculate place settings replaced the usual configuration. Several of his colleagues were already there, taking advantage of the open bar and hors d’oeuvres offered ahead of the meal. Parth and Luping walked in behind him.

  “Wow. Fancy,” said Parth.

  “I feel a bit under-dressed,” replied Jayson.

  The catering staff wore nicer clothing than most of the recruits, and the Navy personnel had donned their dress uniforms.

  “Where’s the music coming from?” asked Luping.

  “There,” said Parth.

  He pointed to the far side of the room where a temporary platform hosted an unusual string quartet playing Mozart.

  “That’s amazing.”

  “It’s creepy as hell,” said Jayson.

  Four vaguely humanoid robots played their instruments, exhibiting flawless form.

  “I think it’s beautiful.”

  They spotted Samaira and Aiden mingling with a few of the Navy personnel, and wandered over to meet them.

  “Hey!” said Aiden as they approached. “Come and meet the latest arrivals. Josh Talbot, Lisa Washington, and Martina de la Cruz—meet Jayson Reilly, Parth Ravinderan, and Luping Zhang.”

  “Impressive memory,” said the Navy man he’d introduced as Josh.

  “Let’s see if I can keep it going. Josh and Martina were both combat medics—now doctors—and Lisa is a mechanical engineer.”

  “I’m still technically a resident,” said Josh, “but close enough.”

  “Parth is a civil engineer, Luping studies materials science, and Jayson is—“

  “A farmer,” he said, thrusting out a hand.

  “The most important one of all,” said Josh.

  “Has anyone seen Hitarthi yet?” asked Samaira. “She seemed a little shaken up earlier.”

  “She’ll be fine,” said Jayson. “Just needed a bit of time by herself.”

  ***

  On the other side of the room, Richard stood with Admiral Daniels enjoying a glass of champagne when Denise rushed over. The recruiter held up her phone.

  “We have an issue.”

  “Excuse me, Admiral,” said Richard.

  He pulled Denise aside and looked at the screen.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Hitarthi is reaching out. She tried to call her mother and texted some friends.”

  “Expected—under the circumstances.”

  “She’s not stable. Something’s going to slip.”

  “But nothing yet, right?”

  “We intercepted the call and sent it to a spoofed voicemail. She’s saying she needs advice, and asked her mother to call back.”

  “The texts?”

  “We’ve got a bot responding. I’ll see if it can coax her into revealing anything.”

  “Okay. Stay on her all night, if you have to.”

  “Got it.”

  Richard sighed as she scurried away.

  “Everything okay?” asked the Admiral.

  “Overreaction,” he replied. “We’re on top of it.”

  ***

  Waiters entered the room with trays of champagne, encouraging everyone to take a fresh glass for a toast. After they’d made their rounds and vanished, a screen on the wall by the robotic quartet flickered to life. Anton Kamaras appeared before them, holding a glass of his own.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said. “It’s nice to see you all again under happier circumstances. I imagine it’s been quite an interesting day for you, just as it’s been an interesting week for me.”

  There were some laughs and light applause.

  “The fourteenth Dalai Lama said ‘to remain indifferent to the challenges we face is indefensible. If the goal is noble, whether or not it is realized within our lifetime is largely irrelevant.’”

  He paused briefly before continuing.

  “What we must do, therefore, is to strive, and persevere, and never give up—despite the odds. I can’t express how happy it’s made me to present you with new hope, and an opportunity to meet our noble goal. Tonight we celebrate that hope together.”

  The audience met his moving remarks with enthusiastic cheers.

  Over a few disorienting weeks, the atmosphere at the center had cycled through hope, despair, shock, and finally, relief. The contagious excitement enabled by that welcome relief fueled the crowd’s response.

  “Thank you so much for that,” continued Kamaras as the applause died down. “I hope you’ve been enjoying my string quartet this evening. Every aspect of their performance has been iterated to perfection by our AI, using recordings from countless performances of the works of history’s greatest composers. You won’t find a more flawless human performance anywhere in the world. After seeing what they could do, I decided to find out if our AI could compose their own music.”

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  He paused and looked around the room. At least that’s how it felt. Perhaps he could see them on a screen of his own, or perhaps he’d choreographed the move to give the illusion of presence.

  “And indeed, it can. It composes the most objectively soulless, stiff, and unmoving melodies you can imagine. Our performers are here tonight to illustrate both the wonders and limits of technology. On your journey, we’ll provide you with as many marvels of technology as we can. But never forget you will reimagine the world. You will compose the score of humanity. When your families, colleagues, and I arrive in the reality you’ve created for us, we will experience with wonder the symphony your efforts have become.”

  He raised his glass to the camera on the other end of the connection.

  “I offer this toast, inadequate as it is, in honor of the great things you will do.”

  He took a sip, and the screen went dark. Kamaras was gone. Richard stepped onto the platform amid the applause to address his team.

  “I hope you were as moved by Mr. Kamaras’s words as I was. It’s impossible to express the enormity of what you are undertaking, but he did it as well as anyone could.”

  More applause. Richard held up his hands.

  “For this evening’s gathering, we’re going to have a little fun as you mingle with some of your new colleagues. You will each receive a hit with a table number and a conversation prompt based on how your complementary skills will create a better society. Please have a seat at your assigned table, as dinner service will begin shortly.”

  Around the room, phones vibrated and chirped. Jayson read his message aloud.

  “Table four. Livable cities. Seems kind of the opposite of agriculture.”

  “Same one for me,” said Parth.

  “Me too,” added Luping.

  “Makes sense for a civil engineer and construction materials scientist,” said Jayson. “Let’s see where I fit in.”

  “Table two,” said Samaira. “Contact with established cultures.”

  “Me too,” added Aiden.

  “Okay. Now I know this is just random,” said Jayson.

  “They need me for my charm,” said Aiden with a laugh. “What culture could resist me?”

  “Table five—infrastructure and systems,” said Lisa, one of the new Navy recruits.

  “I guess we’ll see you guys later,” said Josh. “Martina and I are off to talk healthcare.”

  ***

  Kailani was already sitting down, chatting with one of Admiral Daniels’ men at table two, when Aiden and Samaira arrived to take their seats.

  “This is Ted Park,” she said. “He’s a sociologist.”

  “What are your specializations?” he asked.

  “Organizational psychology,” replied Samaira.

  “We’ll have a lot to talk about, I imagine. What about you, Aiden?”

  “Agricultural operations. Guess they had nowhere else to put me.”

  “I don’t know about that. Food is a language of its own. The sharing of food with strangers has ritualistic importance across many cultures.”

  “If you say so.”

  ***

  Jayson joined Luping, Parth, and one of the Admiral’s recruits at table four, along with guest researcher Serge Goudreau. Jayson had dined with him several times in the cafeteria, but they’d never discussed his work. Of everyone at the Center, Serge displayed the keenest fashion sense. He never wore shorts to work, even on the hottest days. On occasion, he even sported a neckerchief.

  The Admiral’s recruit introduced herself as Jen Jefferson, describing her expertise as logistics and supply. She looked mixed race—Black and Asian, maybe? Jayson chided himself. Why did he always do that—boil people down to race as a first instinct? Race aside, she obviously spent a lot of time at the gym.

  With muscles bulging through her shirt, she looked like she could body-slam him, given the chance. Even so, he found her mix of strength and delicate femininity alluring. He bit his lip, determined not to come off as some kind of creep by checking her out all night.

  After introductions, Parth addressed the table’s designated topic.

  “What’s new in the world of urban planning, Serge?”

  “Everything, it would seem,” he replied in his Parisian accent. “It is rare I would have the chance to start with carte blanche—a blank slate.”

  “What’s your background?” asked Jayson.

  “I started as a research and development intern at Dassault Systèmes, supporting their Virtual Singapore project. I found it so compelling, I switched from computer science to urban planning. Now I’m working toward a master’s degree.”

  “I guess that’s off the table now, huh?”

  The Frenchman shrugged.

  “It’s hardly relevant, under the circumstances.”

  It seemed a rude response, but Jayson realized it could just as easily be a nuance of language.

  “I guess not. What’s Virtual Singapore?”

  “We modeled the entire city—not just physically, but also the processes and the daily activities of the people. We added real-time monitoring of air quality, noise pollution, traffic flows, power demand, and so on.”

  “Sounds cool, but why?”

  “Singapore has not much room left to grow. Every urban planning decision must be the right one, because the stakes for them are very high. Modeling and simulating the impacts of development is the only way for them to grow sustainably.”

  “Sustainably?” said Jayson, raising his eyebrows.

  “I concede that in their context, the word does not mean the same as it does for us, but we can apply the lessons to our own goals. We can model the growth of our society to see the impact our choices will have hundreds of years into the future.”

  “I find it hard to believe we can model an entire civilization,” said Jayson.

  “We have already modeled Singapore with conventional computing. With the quantum capabilities at the Center, we can imagine the unimaginable. For example, I can help Parth decide how the water supply, sewers, roads, and utilities should evolve, so we don’t make mistakes that have to be fixed in a hundred years. I can tell Luping how much power we’ll need to store in her special concrete for decades into the future as our society grows.”

  “Too bad there won’t be any of that until after we’re dead,” said Jayson. “I assume we’ll be living in mud huts for the rest of our lives.”

  That was his biggest fear—aside from the journey itself. They’d have little in the way of modern comforts.

  “If we stay or go, it doesn’t matter,” said Jen with a shrug. “Either way, our generation has to make sacrifices.”

  Jayson snorted.

  “Screwed by the boomers.”

  “Screwed by human nature, I would say,” said Serge. “The generation responsible is only an accident of time.”

  “So we’re just unlucky?”

  “Exactly this.”

  Had Jayson been born in the fifties, would he care so much about sustainability? He changed the subject.

  “As interesting as this is, I can’t help but think I’m at the wrong table.”

  “Far from it,” said Jen. “In the Navy, it’s my job to get stuff where it needs to be. If that means burning ten thousand kilos of avgas or loading up a dozen diesel trucks, nobody bats an eye. In peacetime, what do you think I ship more than anything else besides fuel?”

  “Food,” he replied.

  “You got it. For me, the goal is to minimize the need for logistics infrastructure and roads. That means working with people like you and Serge.”

  “To do what?”

  “To do our best to make me unemployed so I can sit on the beach and work on my tan,” she said with a laugh. “Put the food among the people—where they need it—so I don’t have to figure out how to move it around. Rooftop gardens, vertical farming, urban cooperative gardens, whatever. You’re the expert on this stuff.”

  “So, you’re more than just a pretty face,” said Jayson.

  Shit. He bit his lip. Jen smiled and offered a wink.

  “I try to keep people off balance,” she said.

  He let out a breath, relieved she hadn’t taken offence.

  “I keep overlooking that we’re starting from scratch,” he continued. “We can establish a common view that everyone is responsible for at least some of their own food needs.”

  “This makes sense,” said Serge. “An urban planner should look for ways to leave nature untouched instead of trying to develop it. We should be partners, Jayson, to bring some of the farm into the city, and reimagine our surroundings as a beautiful, green oasis.”

  ***

  Discussions were somewhat less harmonious at table two, where Kailani and Ted couldn’t agree on the best way to integrate into their new world. Kailani insisted her linguistic skills could facilitate a rapid assimilation of the local tribes they might encounter. Ted countered that the technological and theological divide between them would become a source of violent conflict. It would be better, he’d asserted, to establish friendly yet distant relations.

  “You don’t think it will create even more animosity if we take over a corner of their island and shut them out?” demanded Kailani, putting a fist on the table.

  “Maybe at first, but they’ll learn to live with our presence.”

  “Wouldn’t it be better to have them celebrating it?”

  “Not if those celebrations involve human sacrifice.”

  “Why are you assuming they’re going to be savages?”

  Aiden narrowed his eyes from across the table and shook his head.

  “I’m sorry,” said Ted, holding up his hands. “I’m showing prejudice. Our best approach is to stay open and adaptable. We’re in this together, and we’ll need to decide together.”

  “Agreed,” said Kailani.

  She leaned back from the table and relaxed her fist.

  Samaira sat with her elbows on the table, studying the interaction between Kailani and the newcomer.

  “What about you?” asked Aiden. “What do you think?”

  “I think the next course is here.”

  She leaned back as a quartet of white-gloved servers arrived with covered plates and set them on the table.

  ***

  Jayson pushed away what remained of his tiramisu and put a hand on his stomach. He’d eaten too much. The conversation, punctuated by a half-dozen courses of gourmet food and expertly paired wines, easily matched the quality of the food. By the time the waiters were clearing the dessert plates and offering coffee, any tension he’d felt heading into the evening had melted away.

  The earnest exchanges with the new arrivals allayed his fears they might be uneducated grunts who would undermine the peaceful nature of the mission. Meeting Jen and connecting with Serge had erased all remaining doubts. He was going to take the leap.

  ***

  Though still home to some Center staff, the Fusion A building sat mostly empty since its sister facility had been airlifted halfway across the island. For that reason, and because it had controlled access, a select group of recruits chose its largest conference room as the location for a post-celebration debrief.

  Aiden was late. He’d walked Samaira to her room and stayed talking with her in the hallway for nearly twenty minutes, deflecting her advances until she gave up and turned in for the night. After that, he took his time walking to the rendezvous, not wanting to appear in a rush. When he stepped into the conference room, Ted Park snapped to his feet and saluted.

  “Jesus Christ, Park. What are you doing?” he said, shaking his head.

  “Sorry, sir. Uh… I mean sorry, Aiden.”

  “Lift your shirt.”

  “Come on, man.”

  “Lift your fucking shirt, Park. I told you what would happen if you slipped up.”

  Ted sighed and raised his shirt, holding the hem to his armpits with both hands. The rest of the Admiral’s recruits lined up, most chuckling and shaking their heads. Josh stepped up first. He raised a hand above his head and delivered an open-handed slap across Ted’s bare stomach. The Korean-American SEAL winced.

  “I’m going to remember that windup, asshole.”

  “Remember it all you want. I’m not going to fuck up.”

  Martina went next, putting a little less into her swing.

  “I appreciate it, de la Cruz,” said Ted.

  Then Jen stepped up, a grin creeping across her face.

  “Ready for me, Park?”

  “Fuck me. Always gotta prove you can hang with the big boys, don’t you?”

  Her hand landed with a reverberating smack, and Park winced again, shaking his head.

  “The rest of you fuckers better remember I just ate. Someone’s gonna get puked on.”

  “Totally worth it,” said his next punisher, Paul Suryana.

  In all, eleven blows landed on Ted’s stomach to remind him of the operational security protocols. With the last of them, he eased his shirt down over the growing welts.

  “Alright, sit down,” said Aiden. “Great work tonight. Disarming, for the most part. You got a little aggressive with Kailani, Park.”

  “Sorry about that. I just want to make sure they don’t go in there expecting to get all friendly.”

  “It doesn’t matter what they expect. Let them think whatever they want for now.”

  “Understood.”

  “Otherwise,” continued Aiden, “great stuff. They’re accepting you as colleagues, and I think the initial suspicion is diffusing. We’ll get confirmation from the AI over the next few days.”

  “If that’s the goal, why mention our Navy background at all?” asked Martina. “We could just be scientists, or whatever.”

  “You’ll be the only ones armed, and they’d naturally question that. Now, they’ll accept it—and your authority in matters of security.”

  “If you say so. Anything else?”

  “Keep studying the bios. We’ve collected a lot of information on these kids. Use it to create connections.”

  “What have you collected about Josh?” asked Ted. “I owe him some payback.”

  “They know your mom’s gonna miss me when I’m gone.”

  “Ouch, Park. I bet that burns worse than the pink belly,” said Jen with a laugh.

  “Adding it to the list,” replied Park. “Revenge is a dish best served cold.”

  “Nah,” said Josh. “Revenge is a dish best served pink.”

  He leaned over and poked Ted in the belly.

  “Jesus Christ, man!”

  Aiden shook his head.

  “I can’t believe you imbeciles managed such good behavior tonight. Let’s see if we can hold our shit together for a few more weeks, alright?”

  “Yes, sir,” said Park

  He jumped to his feet, catching himself before he could salute.