"An attempt at an apology."
She exhaled. "You were more than an ass."
"Yes. That's true. I was worse than that."
"A troll."
"Okay. Not where I would go. A little too mythical for me, but yes, I was a troll."
She stared at him for a long moment, the holopad in the air between them, then she gave an exasperated sigh. "This is typical nondisclosure. Whatever you see in this facility can never be spoken of to anyone outside this facility. Even to me or to your father. It says if you break that agreement, we can sue you for all the money in the world and cut off your testicles."
He raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
"Except in your case, since you don't have any testicles, we would probably just sue you." She held up her stylus.
He took it, signed, and gave the stylus back to her.
Simona tucked her pad under her arm and started walking again.
Lem kept step beside her. "So what is this place and why am I here?"
"You're here at your father's insistence. As for why it's secret, it involves, like most things in this company, very proprietary tech. Have you ever heard of Project Parallax?"
"Should I have?"
"Only if you're an academic. An astrophysicist, say. Or a cosmologist. Project Parallax began eight years ago. It was an attempt to position satellites with high-powered telescopes at the outer edge of the solar system. Without the debris of our system clouding their views, the parallax satellites could give scientists a better look at the deep reaches of the universe."
"The Parallax Nexus," Lem said. "The database at universities. I have heard of this. We did that?"
"We do that. The nexus is still in operation, though it's managed through a subsidiary. The satellites, however, still belong to corporate and are still functional. They feed data back to the system continually. Research facilities, universities, space agencies like STASA. They all pay us a subscription fee to get data from the satellites."
"Subscription fees? That sounds like chump change. Is this profitable?"
"Hardly. But we enjoy very generous tax and tariff breaks from agencies with oversight of the space trade. That helps immensely."
Lem looked at the white walls. "So this is Project Parallax. I don't get it. What's so secretive about it? Every college kid who walks into a university library can log in to the Parallax Nexus. The data is there for all to see. We're wide open on this."
"I'll let your father explain that part."
She stopped at a place in the wall with an outline of a door. Lem would have walked right by it had she not stopped. A small, pink, cubed holofield appeared above a white shelf to their right. Simona inserted her hand into the field and did an intricate series of movements, as if she were spelling a lengthy word in sign language. There was a quiet click as the locks disengaged, and the door swung inward.
They stepped across the threshold and into ... the solar system.
Lem stopped. He was standing in outer space--or so it seemed, although he could still feel the floor beneath him. Before him were planets, asteroids, moons, all in miniature, all emitting a little light, floating at chest height. Simona walked past him, passing through a few asteroids, then the sun, to reach Father, who was standing on
the opposite side of the dark room, speaking with a technician.
Brief words were exchanged, and then Simona and Father crossed back to Lem.
"Have you heard anything from Victor or Imala?" Father asked.
The fake concern on Father's face was infuriating. You were the one who told me to cut them off, Father, Lem wanted to say. You were the one who sent the drones that likely killed them, after I begged you not to. And now you have the gall to act like you care?
With Simona present, however, Lem only said, "We lost contact when the drones attacked."
Father exhaled deeply and put his hands on his hips. "It's my fault."
Lem said nothing. If Father was waiting for him to argue the point, he was in for a disappointment.