The Originators

CHAPTER 9: A ROMAN HOLIDAY(LAURA)

I.

There is an unacknowledged uncertainty each time you lift off in a jet aircraft; this silent doubt always transforms it into the ride of a lifetime. You think to yourself, I can live or die, right now. What makes this short slice of time so interesting is uncertainty never aligns with inconsistency. You will never be able to be 100% sure of the outcome. That's the thrill. It could all be over in second, or you are merely sucked back into your seat as you feel the anti-thrust of the plane to enjoy an uneventful, albeit, possibly irritating trip.

I elect to rock forward, looking out the window to watch Earth fall away. It's the most magical part of the trip.

Looking down, what you view below becomes a place you used to be know. People, their lives, roads, water, land, everything becomes little circles, squares, lines, smooth planes connecting everything. It's old-school "Flat Land" for the psychogenic amnesiacs. Geometry is what we become when viewed from an aircraft climbing the first ten-thousand feet. Except I can't forget those dots are homes, min-dots are people, the lines are rivers, the circles are lakes; for a second it all becomes an airborne viewing of a planet, people, a life I know nothing about.

Then I see the faces of those sitting next to me, across from me. There is no fierce rush of joy from ascending into the unknowable sky reflected in their eyes or actions. Instead fingers clutch armrests, prayers to God slip from barely moving lips, eyes close, or stare blindly into the table tray nestled in the seat right in front of them. Some pretend they are reading a newspaper or magazine. They give themselves away every time. Their eyes don't move.

No one I have ever seen, except for small children, ever roll forward to move with abandon into the take-off, to gaze out the window to see what is happening. To see us move from viewing homes and cars, to dots and lines, to grey, then to limbo clouds, is a miracle of innovation, to adapt and advance.

The Originators gave us many treasures to find; this was probably one of the largest. Natural life and the resultant ability to fly in huge metal beasts. Wondrous. They have given us the greatest clues on how to move every day towards a mutually beneficial coexistence; to advance ourselves, to prepare ourselves for their arrival. We waste it every single day.

II.

Awaiting takeoff, I'm in a chartered plane as air travel is now severely limited. The few remaining solvent businesses pool their resources for those they send on business travel. They'll add in a few families, loners, really those who can afford to pay.

I settle back into my first-class seat. H20 wanted me to work the entire way over to Rome. I oblige. Opening my computer, I wait for the plane to fill and check emails. I receive an update on the following: finding Solomon, the air shift, Merc's history file, and Helen's history file. Most importantly is the analysis Viktor, Frank, and Pluto are working on for the iron cores; and, possible locations of the other four heating artifacts and booby traps based on historical data and what I could pull from Merc's mind.

I have to lay a security imprint on my computer so it all rings true. Then I'll memorize and analyze all of the data.

Before takeoff the airhostess comes by, "Ciao signorina! Cosa ti va da bere?"

"Acqua e spuntini."

"Beninteso."

I didn't want anything heavy so I asked for water and a few snacks.

Do I know Italian? Before this trip? No. Ana transferred the entire Italian language, grammar, syntax, everything I needed to speak and understand the language, into a massive file. I uploaded all of it. They also transferred into my brain a large chunk of data all about the Originators and Untouchables in my very own empty room. Let's say I'm now up-to-date on everything.