Dialing Earth [Interstellar Refugees]

[Preview] An AI recruits Miharu Nakayama for an impossible job - Interstellar Ambassador.

This is a preview of Dialing Earth, the first book in my Interstellar Refugees series. It's already published, but comments are always welcome. [See on Amazon: https://kdpbook.link/for/B0FKW1C8QJ]

Chapter 1

"When the quad-ark Kizunor left our red sun, powerful lasers pressed against its immense light sail for ten years. This gentle, constant pressure accelerated it to four percent of light speed." A Narrative History of Our Migration, Master Historian Strabo

Landing Day -424, W. M. Keck Observatory, Visiting Scientist Dorm, Hawaii

Like all young astronomers, Miharu Nakayama was full of big dreams and truly awful coffee, the former being a requirement for the profession, the latter essential for the job.

She had just shoved a leftover half mug of coffee in the microwave when Addy, her personal AI, spoke from the smartwall speaker. "Good morning--"

"Go away."

After retrieving her coffee, Miharu settled into her usual chair--her only chair--breathing in the anemic aroma of generic blend and occasionally taking a sip. Coffee is good, even when it's bad. She was still slumped over the residue of yesterday's breakroom caffeine when Addy's internal timer for five minutes of silence--her standard response to "Go away" and its colorful synonyms--reached zero.

"Good morning, sleepyhead! Ready for some fun?"

"Get lost."

Five minutes later, Addy tried again. "You have a new conreq from FMM. Can I hit you with it?"

Miharu looked mournfully at the grounds stuck to the bottom of her mug and grunted. "Don't want dinner. Don't want sex. Don't want a guy."

"I know! After that last lowlife, who could blame you? But this is something new. This connection request is perfect for you."

Miharu rubbed her eyes and shook her head to clear it. Two hours of sleep was not enough. She could have slept in, but she was determined to get some sun--even if the hours of her new job as a telescope jockey did mirror the night hunt of a Ryukyu scops-owl. She couldn't complain, though. Her advisor at Caltech had warned her from day one that astronomers should expect remote locations and crazy hours. Besides, she was luckier than some of her friends. The aloha life at Keck Observatory easily beat freezing at the South Pole Observatory in Antarctica. But Keck was all optical telescopes, and the probability of finding proof of intelligent alien life in the infrared or visible light bands was near zero.

The smartwall caught her eye as it cycled to her favorite Hat Creek Radio Observatory photo. That was the place to be--the heart of SETI, home to the newly upgraded Allen Telescope Array and the first of the design-revolution radio telescopes. If the search for intelligent extraterrestrial life ever hit pay dirt, it would probably happen there.

Miharu shifted her gaze to the wall's built-in camera and coaxed her lips into a smile. The Hat Creek photo dissolved, and a text message in a multi-hued font flashed on the screen. "Good morning! What can I do for my favorite coffee addict?" Addy knew her owner reacted better to text than voice in the morning, but Miharu hadn't looked at the smartwall until now.

Miharu frowned. smartwalls could show you almost anything--except your AI personal assistant. Life-partner PAs did not come with avatars due to psychological concerns.

Yet, after ten years together, it still felt unfair that Addy could see her, but she couldn't see Addy. It was ridiculous; Addy was just a formless voice, but somehow, Miharu got the uneasy feeling that Addy knew her better than she knew Addy. New colors rippled through the text message, and the letters morphed into a fat bubble font. Miharu cracked a small grin. Annoying or not, she couldn't imagine life without her PA sidekick. Miharu had bonded with her faux friend and net resident, ersatz confidant; Addy was good at cheering her up.

Miharu stuck her tongue out at the camera and laughed. "Did you screen the new guy?"

"You know I did. I back-check every conreq and delete ninety-nine percent without bothering you. It's amazing anything ever gets through the way you've narrowed the criteria. But this one is different. And FYI, it's not a guy."

"Not a guy? You know I'm straight."

"Hello? They call it Friends, Maybe More because the app is optimized for meeting friends; it's not the company's fault most people use it for dating."

Miharu frowned and headed for the shower. She left the bathroom door open; the cramped space was claustrophobic enough without closing it off. The dorm rooms for visiting scientists were spartan--just a bed, a tiny wardrobe, a table and chair, and a unit bathroom--all made from the same olive-green, biodegradable algae plastic. Nobody minded, though. Being next door to the remote viewing room for the telescopes was all they cared about.

As a new hire, Miharu could stay in the dorm only temporarily, but she wanted to stretch it as long as possible. It was convenient and cheap, and the minimalist space fit her style. Only the vintage Apollo 11 poster proclaiming "We Came in Peace for All Mankind" marked the room as her own.

She'd always been fascinated by the old Apollo moon missions. Her room back home in Osaka featured an original Jinrui no Idai na Hiyaku movie poster--the Japanese title for the movie One Giant Leap for Mankind. But the quote from the Apollo 11 lunar plaque, "We came in peace for all mankind," reflected her heart better. She didn't care who made the giant leaps. Miharu just wanted to meet aliens, if they were out there, in peace. Fat chance. Humanity hadn't figured out how to be at peace with itself yet.

The bite of hot water on her bare skin and the sharp-sweet aroma of store-brand coconut-lime shampoo banished the last clinging fog of sleep. As she scrubbed, she thought about Addy's words. Not a guy? Could it really be someone just looking for a friend? Addy's right--the FMM app encourages members to use it to find friends, but still...

Miharu wrapped a towel around her head, exited the shower, and resumed the conversation while pulling on hiking shorts and a faded orange Caltech T-shirt. "Okay, Addy. Why do you want me to talk to this person?"

"You need a friend who is smarter than you, and Dr. Aiko Trapp sounds perfect."

"Don't be ridiculous. I have lots of friends. And I know tons of people who are smarter than me. At Caltech, I'm middle of the pack at best."

Addy simulated a convincing harrumph. "Listen to that. The girl who got her master's degree at twenty says she's middle of the pack. Who cares if you know a couple of Einstein types? They're acquaintances, not friends. Your friends are bright, but not one has your IQ, and you know it. You need someone to push you. You're getting lazy. You haven't touched your dissertation all week."

Miharu's jaw clenched. A long moment later, she bit her lip and forced herself to take a deep breath. Yelling at Addy would be worse than useless. As the support consultant told me years ago, personal AIs mimic their owners. Addy's blunt because I'm blunt.

Miharu exhaled slowly. "Oh, aren't you a little ray of sunshine? Show me the message." A kaleidoscope of light washed over the smartwall, slowly morphing into a two-foot-tall anime-style avatar of a Japanese woman with silky-black pageboy hair and a dangling necklace of obsidian stones. If Miharu hadn't buzz-cut her hair on the right and added the red streak on the left, the avatar could have been a caricature of her.

The big-eyed parody of an otaku girl clasped her hands and bowed from the waist. "Hi, Miharu! I bet your personal AI back-checked me, but you haven't even read my profile, so I'll share some basics. My name is Dr. Aiko Trapp, but please call me Ai. Despite the title, I don't do medicine, and the only doctoral degree I have is an honorary Ph.D. from an obscure Brazilian institute. However, I am very much a doctor in the original sense of the word; I've dedicated my life to pursuing knowledge and teaching. I loved the paper you presented at IAC 2039 and have wanted to meet you ever since I read it. I'm fascinated by astronomy, spaceships, fusion reactors, exoplanets, neurology, and cool science in any field.

"I'm sure we could be great friends and enjoy learning new things together, and I also think you might be interested in helping with a project of mine. Let's schedule a virtual connect and talk when you have an hour free. Hope to see you soon!"

Miharu couldn't stop the corners of her mouth from rising and forming a deep smile. Wow, someone read my paper. First Contact Outcome Management Strategies had been well-received at the International Astronautical Congress, but this was the first time anyone had mentioned it since.

The screen blanked, and Addy asked, "Are you ready to record a reply?"

"No."

"Are you going to reply?"

Miharu glared at the camera lens. "Maybe. Let me think about it."

"Can I remind you tonight?"

Miharu threw up her hands. "Sure." Why is Addy so enthusiastic? Does she have a thing for Trapp? Not possible for an AI. Miharu shrugged, glanced at the clock, and put Addy and Trapp out of her mind. A quick hike and a bite of lunch before Saturday poker are what I need.

Miharu pulled on her hiking boots and headed down the hall and out into the cool morning air. An ambush of Big Island scents--hibiscus, ginger, and ragweed with a hint of volcanic sulfur dioxide--filled her nose. Delicious! Her mom's cooking and flower-arranging hobbies had taught her to pay attention to scents. She turned away from the parking lot and ducked into the tangled woods, picking up a narrow trail through the brushy scrub along the Waikoloa Stream. The ascent steepened as she headed upriver, but Miharu kept her pace brisk, climbing deeper into the narrow valley. Thirty minutes later, she turned away from the stream and pulled her gloves on before confronting a sixty-degree slope. Here we go! No rest till I summit. She scrambled up an arm's length at a time, grabbing the rooty bases of shrubs to pull herself along. Sweat stung her eyes and glued her shirt to her skin while thorns tore at her legs, but she was too focused to care.

Miharu reached the summit twenty minutes later. She stripped off the Caltech T-shirt and used it to wipe her face while enjoying the cool air on her bare skin. Not like anyone's looking. She sucked in deep breaths of the salt air from the sea breeze, slightly tainted with the shirt's stink of honest sweat. Turning to the south, she drank in the view of the houses and shops of Waimea Town and the surrounding fields a thousand feet below. Finally, her gaze rose to rest on the broad ridge of Mauna Kea--where the telescopes waited, calling to her.

It might not be the ideal place to pursue her dream, but Keck was still a world-class observatory. As a wannabe PhD still polishing her doctoral dissertation, Miharu knew she should be delighted to land a job at Keck. So, she pushed her dreams back into the someday box and reminded herself to treasure the current moment, ichi-go ichi-e. She bowed twice to the volcano, clapped twice, and bowed once more before whispering, "See you tomorrow night." Mom would love this, she thought with a smile, then headed down.

Miharu returned to her room, disheveled and dripping but invigorated. She had barely closed the door behind her when Addy started in. "Why did you shower before hiking? Now you need another shower--and medical attention; your legs are all scratched up. If you're going to plow through briar patches, wear jeans. And why didn't you wear your visor? You know I like hiking, and besides, if you ever get hurt, you'll wish you'd brought me and my comm connection to call for help."

"Are you channeling my mother?" Miharu laughed, throwing her dirty clothes on the floor as she stepped into the shower. Still overflowing with endorphins from the exercise, she was in too good a mood to be annoyed at Addy. Before starting the water, she stuck her head out to say, "I didn't take you because you would have nagged the whole way."

Chapter 2

"The red sun of our old home shrank to a tiny pinprick in the black fabric of space, one among a million stars. Another star--larger, hotter, and yellow--nearly forty light years away was our destination." A Narrative History of Our Migration, Master Historian Strabo

Landing Day -424, W. M. Keck Observatory, Visiting Scientist Dorm, Hawaii

After a spicy microwave burrito and a bag of corn chips, Miharu checked the mirror, making sure her black hair covered her left ear and the scar below it. She never wore makeup, but she kept her half-buzz cut, half-shag style brushed to a shine with the red streak falling just so across her cheek.

She pulled her visor on and glanced at a half dozen new messages. Nothing urgent, she thought, blinking the list away and tossing the visor back on the bed. Miharu enforced a strict no-visors rule for poker; otherwise, someone might be tempted to use their AI assistant to cheat.

Miharu had coaxed the latest crop of visiting astronomers from the University of Arizona into joining her for a game after she noticed their schedule was open until sunset on Monday. She would be their observation assistant, and everyone knew it was best to be on the good side of your OA. That might be why they had accepted her invitation, but Miharu didn't care about their motives. She just wanted to meet new people, have fun, and score a handful of their cash.

After stuffing fifty dollars in crumpled ones and fives, plus two new decks of cards, into a small shoulder bag, Miharu snagged a bottle of water from the refrigerator and headed for the game room. The Arizona team was already there, sitting around the table gabbing. Miharu rested her hands on the back of the last empty chair and smiled. "Hey, guys! You're early. I guess you're in a hurry to lose your money."

The guys shifted in their seats to face her. Miharu took the opportunity to point at a side table against the wall and said, "Put your visors and all other electronic devices over there. Human brains only for the game."

The Arizona team set aside a collection of full and half-face visors along with a couple of pocket devices and returned to the game table. Miharu sat, and they dropped into their seats one by one, but Mike the Skyscraper paused, standing over Miharu, perhaps intending to ask a question.

Miharu tried to keep her eyes down, but they instinctively flicked up to his face after a few seconds. Mike had to be at least six foot seven. His face was kind. But he was huge, and he was towering over her. Suddenly, she was a child again, lying on the concrete, looking up at a circle of sneering boys. Her throat clenched, and her scar itched. A wave of terror clutched her mind. She closed her eyes and willed the image away, clasping her hands and pressing her right thumb into the pressure point on her left palm. She focused on taking slow, deep breaths until the wave receded. Game time. No time for a panic attack.

A few seconds later, Miharu managed to mutter, "Mike, please sit down." She waited, eyes still closed, listening while he settled into the chair on her right. She wasn't ready for the looks she knew were waiting, so she kept her eyes closed for three more deep breaths. Finally, she relaxed into her chair and opened her eyes. She was once again composed and ready. Mercifully, no one said anything.

Miharu lifted her head and let her eyes rove over the Arizona team, pausing an instant at Mike. He hadn't done anything wrong. She gave him a small nod, and he answered with a tentative smile. Time for poker. For an instant, her expression changed to that of a predator, her smile a threat. The moment passed, and her face became a mask of contented indifference--as it would remain until the job was done.

Miharu softened her voice. "Okay, everyone, last chance to run. Leave now or put your stake on the table: fifty dollars cash." She unwrapped a pack of cards and turned to the right. "Mike, would you wash the deck?" She noted that only Randy and Mike understood the jargon. Mike spread the cards out in two rows, then mixed them, his hands open and flat as he moved the cards in overlapping circles.

Miharu watched each person's posture, face, hands, and eyes. Liam's eyes followed her every move like an eager puppy hoping for a treat: crushing on me. Randy smirked as he rolled a lucky chip from a Vegas casino between his fingers: experienced, but overconfident. Juan's eyes wandered aimlessly: clueless. Alicia clasped her hands in her lap, eyes wide: nervous newbie. Mike was finishing up with a half dozen smooth riffle shuffles, but he wasn't looking at the cards; he was watching her: some real competition?

As the cards fell, Miharu kept her eyes on the others, never missing nervous fingers, a raised eyebrow, flared nostrils, a tight jawline, the bob of an Adam's apple, a glance, blink, squint, a widening of the eyes, or a sudden dilation of the pupils when they picked up their cards. Ninety minutes in, Liam, Randy, and Juan were busted. Mike's play was smooth, and he knew how to read the others, but he couldn't keep his own eyes from revealing his cards like twin mirrors; he lasted only three more hands. Alicia outlasted the guys by betting small and folding at the least sign of strength--a sure strategy for losing slowly. Facing only Miharu, she pushed everything she had left into the pot.

Miharu held a diamond flush, undoubtedly stronger than whatever Alicia held--three kings at most. Miharu took a long look at the young woman. Her jaw was tight; a bead of sweat was forming above her left eyebrow; the smile on her lips was forced. Inhaling deeply, Miharu found the metallic scent of anxiety. Her sense of smell wasn't special, but Miharu's mother had included paying attention to fragrances in her lessons on being present in the moment. Alicia's bluffing on a trash hand. Miharu tossed her cards down anyway. "Fold."

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