Wedged into the TransPod car against a window facing a bare concrete wall, Lyre refocused thas eyes and became aware of a man's face, somehow magnified to billboard size in the glass. Tha was apparently a fellow commuter still standing on the platform, though Lyre had no idea where.
 |
| Lyre |
Attractive, professional, dressed. Interesting, Lyre thought. Can't tell if tha is human or hologenetic. I guess for most office jobs you hardly need to know the difference. Too bad hologenic beings couldn't take over work completely and leave us humans to enjoy life. Hologenics still has some way to go before that happens.
This one looks a little too perfect for humanity, tha thought. Someone must have spent far too long sculpting that hair, that jaw line. A terrible waste of time. But then again, it must say something about the ambition of a person willing to go to that trouble.
The man touched thas lips thoughtfully as Lyre studied tham. That's an unusual gesture for a Shurpa, tha thought. Normally they'd have a blank stare unless they're actually scanning something. Maybe this one is in manual mode or semi-auto with the owner in control. Anyway, it wouldn't be a programmed behavior; that would have to be modelled from the owner, whoever that might be.
 |
| Eager |
What would it be like to kiss such perfect lips, Lyre wondered. Probably a delicate tingling sensation accompanied by violins, and followed by -- Oops! I forgot about my gold crowns -- sudden catastrophic ionization. Lyre chuckled at thas own joke.
Tha took a cranial conduction disk from thas purse, a late model EncephaCom pickup, and pressed it against the bone behind thas right ear. Microsuction cups held it firmly in place.
Then Lyre visualized thamself speaking into a microphone, calling: "SHURPA Charlotte".
"Ready damsire," responded Charlotte.shurpa, Lyre's hologenic personal assistant. The signal was transmitted directly to Lyre's cranium, then to the auditory nerves, so tha experienced it as a voice, though no one else in the car could hear their conversation.
"Charlotte, would you please identify the man reflected in the window in front of me, the one wearing an Edgar of New York bowtie?"
"Certainly damsire. That is a Shurpa representation of Eager_5748914, resident of Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada. Tha graduated from the University of British Columbia in 2035, is member of the Climate Party of Canada, has no religious affiliation, plays tennis. Should I go on?"
"Thanks," said Lyre. "Is tha married? Any children?"
"Divorced last year, no children. Thas older sister lives in East Vancouver with two girls, aged 3 and 5. Tha visits on average once per month and brings presents for thas nieces. Has a regular tennis game on Thursday afternoons, vacations in Mexico."
"Nice. Romantic compatibility score?"
"37 percent."
"What? That can't be right. What's your gap analysis?"
"You two are farthest apart on the Creative Tolerance versus Social Obligation scale," said Charlotte.
"Huh? Well, that stuff is all mumbo jumbo anyway," replied Lyre. "Gut reaction is what counts. Who is our nearest social connection?" asked Lyre.
"Your cousin Flub_6758303 has an acquaintance link to Eager_5748914 in six steps," said Charlotte.
"Hmm, too far," mused Lyre, "and I haven't talked to Flub in a decade anyway. Maybe we could arrange a chance meeting in Mexico.
Lyre imagined the two of them riding double on a black horse, thas arms wrapped firmly around thas waist while they galloped along a Mexican beach, surf crashing onto the white sand, wind in their faces, laughing with abandon, rumps slapping simultaneously against the horse's bare back. Lyre smiled with a slight embarrassment at her own fantasy.
As Lyre gazed at tham, the man looked up, directly into Lyre's eyes, surprising tham, shattering thas anonymity. Could tha see tham at the same inescapable magnification as tha could see tham? Lyre flushed red immediately.
Normally tha would have looked away at once. But at that moment the train jerked slightly, signaling that it was about to move, and the man was about to disappear like a floating soap bubble. So Lyre held thas gaze.
The man smiled as if tha recognized Lyre -- no, as if tha had been reading Lyre's thoughts -- which fired a police siren in the back of thas mind, tones alternating between alarm and shame and excitement.
The TransPod jerked again into motion and the reflection flapped wildly with the slight wavering of the window glass. Lyre twisted sharply to catch a glimpse of tham from another window, but all tha could see was a solid wall of commuters.