Chapter 6

Starbase 1 was equipped with a Remote Environment and Conference Room, or "REC Room," used to simulate distant locations via VR headsets for the purposes of examining unsafe areas with a probe or participating in a conference light-years away without the limitations of a monitor screen. If the location in question had the appropriate emitters installed, the user could appear there as an intangible hologram, which also improved interaction.

The computing space required for such apparatus meant that, for now, they were only able to be utilised by planet-based facilities, where the vast computer core was usually buried underground.

Willem Abramson himself had designed this technology, and had thus insisted on using it to meet with Brown for the latter's requested interview. The security chief would have preferred to conduct a simple conversation via monitor, but he was too awed by the reclusive Abramson's response at all to argue. He also figured that being there "in person" would allow him to get a better read on the mysterious tech mogul.

He now stood in the REC Room atop the lighted platform in the centre, which would scan every inch of his body to recreate it as a hologram almost 100 light-years away in Abramson's home on Earth, which was equipped with the necessary (and expensive) emitters.

A technician operated the bank of computers along one wall, while Kostopoulos stood nearby, smirking as Brown donned the slim, clear VR visor and earpieces.

"Very stylish," she quipped.

Brown grunted.

"Wish I could be there with you," the colonel added. "No one's seen Abramson in decades. Built his company out of nothing with advances in computing, then disappears, leaving Reena Bird to be his public persona."

"Technically, I won't be seeing 'him' either," Brown said. "Just a real-time simulation of him on Earth. Hence why only I can go - this contraption takes up too much power, computer space, and transmission bandwidth just broadcasting my lovely image."

"Well, be sure to tell me all about him when you get 'back.'"

Brown grunted again, seeing no need to remind Kostopoulos that he wasn't actually going anywhere.

"Ready, sir," the technician said.

He took a deep breath, as if he really were about to be launched across space, and nodded.

His view of the dull metallic REC Room started to dissolve into black as his visor activated. After a few seconds of sensory deprivation, shapes and colours began to appear from the blackness.

Brown found himself standing in what looked like an art museum. It was a vast room, opulently decorated in marble, oak, and velvet. Small sculptures were arranged along the walls, ranging from simple busts to bizarre abstracts, while the walls themselves were covered in an array of paintings in the style of various artists - Brown could identify similarities with da Vinci, Pollack, and Banksy - although he did not recognise the artworks themselves.

A wide bay window looked out at a silvery lake beyond a green plain surrounded by trees, all covered in a light frost. He knew from his research immediately prior to transmission that this was the so-called Round Pond at the western edge of Hyde Park in London, as he was being transmitted into one of Abramson's UK homes; the former Kensington Palace.

Flanking the window, in either corner, was a pool table and an ornate golden piano. Brown instinctively wanted to walk over to closer inspect these opposing objects, as well as admire the view outside, but he knew that if he stepped off of the REC Room platform, he'd cease to exist here as a hologram.

He contented himself by turning around to admire more of his elegant surroundings, and noticed that, behind him, there was an aquarium built into the wall, in which several translucent jellyfish bobbed along. He frowned as he examined this curious sight.

"They're immortal, you know," said a voice behind him.

He turned again to see a slight, stony-faced man with short, neat white-grey hair dressed in a royal blue three-piece suit, red shirt, and gold, Paisley-pattered ascot. Based on the limited pictures he'd seen, this was his host.

"Willem Abramson, I presume?" he asked.

"Lieutenant Commander Brown," Abramson acknowledged in return. "You'll forgive me if I don't shake your hand."

Brown smiled at the joke, but Abramson remained stern.

"I apologise for not meeting you on arrival," the older man continued. "I was expecting you in my office. Clearly there are still some bugs to work out with this apparatus. Although I maintain that it is the future of long-distance communication, we just have some way to go before it is viable for widespread use."

Brown shrugged. "Well, Rome wasn't built in a day."

Abramson cracked a small grin at that. "Quite."

"It's, ah, it's an honour to meet you, Mr. Abramson," said Brown. He took on a sombre tone. "I just wish it was under better circumstances."

Abramson remained stock-still, but cast his eyes downward. "Yes. Dear Reena. She was my eyes and ears to the world which I have withdrawn from." His voice was even, unwavering, but weighted with a reserved grief. So little was known about the recluse's private life, but Brown sensed that he was a man who had known a lot of loss and was now numb to it.

"I don't… get along with many people, Commander," Abramson spoke up, meeting his gaze again. "Reena was one of the few exceptions. The only person I would allow to be the face of my company. And a rare friend too, indulging this old man's fancy by listening to his outlandish ideas and even more outlandish stories. It will take a long time to replace her."

Brown nodded solemnly and pressed on with his questions. "Do you know of anyone who might wish her harm?"

"Reena?" Abramson shook his head. "Not personally, but there are always business rivals. I can't imagine any of them would resort to murder, however. Corporate espionage is, thankfully, not what it used to be.

"And Reena was cautious; one of the things I admired about her. She took excessive precautions in all her professional dealings. So any confidential information she might have had would be inaccessible to anyone except me and her."

"Yes, Ms. Bird's computer is heavily encrypted, but it may contain clues as to her murderer. Would you be able to tell us how to access it?"

"Unfortunately, I do not know the precise encryption, no, but I dare say if I had the device in my possession, I could easily decipher it."

Brown sighed. It was worth a shot. "I'm afraid it's evidence, sir. And a hundred light-years away. Although, maybe if you guided our specialists over subspace…"

Abramson shook his head again, more wearily this time. "I would need physical access. Some things cannot be taught. No offence, Commander, but I would not trust your people not to accidentally trip one of the self-erasure fail-safes either."

"You're probably right there. Your computers are far more advanced than anything we have."

Abramson scoffed. "Yes. I have frequently advised Starfleet to upgrade to improved computing and artificial intelligence systems, but they prefer 'reliable,' 'practical' technology."

Brown gave a lopsided grin. "Can you blame us? Wasn't so long ago that AI was used for some pretty nasty stuff in World War Three."

Abramson fixed him with a fierce stare and spoke gravely. "You don't need to tell me, Commander. I know all about the drone missiles, the 'robot assassins,' the Mind Control Revolts… But failure should be an incentive to improve, not to withdraw."

Brown allowed a respectful silence before continuing. "You seem to know your history, Mr. Abramson." He gestured to the antiquated surroundings. "I didn't expect it from a known futurist."

Abramson gave another small smile. "I know more about history than most. It is that which inspires me to create a better tomorrow for all mankind. But we cannot forget the mistakes of the past, nor its triumphs. Another sentiment that Reena shared with me…"

"I promise you, sir… I will find who did this."

Abramson nodded. "Have you any suspects?"

"I can't discuss that, sorry."

"Of course. You will let me know when you have the killer though?"

"Mr. Abramson, as soon as I have answers, I'll update you," said Brown.

I just have no idea when that will be, he added to himself.