Chapter 6 Chapter 6 Sabatini

"When your husband made the prediction of the famous supernova '2191-A', you were doing your Ph.D. in physics at Southern Methodist University?" Eileen Brown was sitting on a big soft chair in the living room, wearing a dark brown unisex turtleneck shirt.She seemed squirmed and worried, as if eager to end the conversation early. “I was in second grade at the time, and David was my thesis advisor,” she said carefully, stealing a glance at her husband.David walked across the living room, carefully watching the captured images behind the camera. "Everyone knows that David spends a lot of time with graduate students. That's one of the reasons why I chose to go to graduate school."

Francis Sabatini looked beautiful, with long blond hair loosely hanging over his shoulders, wearing an expensive white silk blouse, an elegant blue scarf around his neck, and a pair of Slacks in the same color as the turban.She was sitting next to Ailian, and there were two cups of coffee on the small coffee table in the middle. "Was he married when he was your tutor?" As soon as Francis asked the question, Ellen understood and blushed.The Italian female reporter still looked at her with a smile, and asked straightforward questions with an innocent expression on her face, as if she was asking a simple question about how much 2+2 equals.Mrs. Brown gasped, hesitated, and then stammered in a low voice, "At first... yes, I thought about him... but he was divorced when I graduated." She paused, her eyes brightened, "He gave me an engagement ring as a graduation present," she replied awkwardly.

Sabatini studied her interviewee: her answers were so flawed that she would be miserable if she had to ask a few more questions, which was not my purpose. "Okay, stop! It's your privacy further down." Sabatini laughed. "Let's see how it goes and put the device back in the car." A cameraman walked up to Camera Robot One next to Sabatini and typed a few commands on a tiny keyboard on the side of the robot.At this time, Ai Lian stood up, and the No. 2 camera robot automatically retreated, adjusting the zoom lens.The cameraman signaled Ellen to stand still so that he could turn off the second robot.

A few seconds later, the director broadcast the last 5 minutes of footage from the three cameras on a large automatic monitor at the same time.A double portrait of Eileen and Sabatini occupies the center of the screen, flanked by close-ups.Sabatini's interview is beautiful and professional, and she speaks quickly and methodically; Mrs. Brown is young, bright, sincere, and unaffected, but she is visibly nervous in front of the camera. Video quality is good. Then, Sabatini and his partners began to pack things and arrange some specific things so that the video composite could be sent to the hotel at the "Dallas Transportation Base" before she flew out of here tomorrow morning.At this moment, Mrs. Brown walked into the living room with a standard-sized robot waiter, and the robot carried cheese, wine and glasses.Mrs. Brown warmly invited everyone to cheer for the successful completion of the program, and people gathered around.Sabatini caught a glimpse of Brown frowned and excused himself from the living room.Sabatini followed him to the back porch.

"Hello, David," she called to him. Brown turned around with an impatient look on his face. "Don't forget, our work is not over yet! I promised Schemi and Hazelest to finish it before returning to Europe. They are very anxious about the progress of the project!" "I know!" he replied, "I just wanted to see if your friend Reggie had finished filming the kids." Then he sighed, "It's true: 'People are afraid of being famous , pigs are afraid of being strong'." Sabatini stepped forward and stood beside him: "I can't believe you think so." Her eyes were fixed on him, "You're just a little nervous today because you can't interfere with your wife and children Say something to me and Reggie. And it's all about getting your way. Am I right?"

Brown was about to retort when he was interrupted by a scream: "Mommy-!" A boy of six or seven rushed out of the bedroom, his shouts echoing in the hallway.The boy ran quickly to the living room door and crashed into his mother's arms. "What's the matter, Justin?" Ellen asked, soothing him. "That black uncle kicked my dog." The boy whimpered, pointing to the end of the hall. Reggie came over with a tall, thin girl in her teens, who had a serious look on her face. "Daddy," the girl complained, "I was telling Mr. Wilson about my collection of pins when that goddamn robot dog came in and bit his leg. He pissed on Mr. Wilson at first! Gustin must have typed it A prank program."

"She lied!" the little boy cried. "She doesn't like Willy. She never did." Mrs. Brown held her hysterical son in one arm and held a wine glass in the other. She didn't seem to notice her husband's dissatisfied eyes.She drank the wine in the glass in one gulp, put the glass on the bookshelf next to her, and said with a little embarrassment: "Okay, okay, don't cry. Tell mom what happened." "That black uncle doesn't like me, and I don't like him. Willie knows that, so he bites him. Willie always protects me." The girl shouted: "I know what's going on. When Mr. Wilson was talking to me, Gustin kept interrupting, showing Mr. Wilson his tricks, his pets, and his souvenirs... ...on and on. Finally Mr. Wilson told him not to make trouble, and he made Willie bite Mr. Wilson."

"She's a liar, a great liar! Woo—" Dr. David was furious, and shouted loudly: "Ailian, take him away!" Seeing his wife pull his son out of the room, he turned around and reprimanded his daughter: "Angela, I told you that today Don't argue with him anyway." The daughter was aggrieved and silent, tears streaming down her face.Wilson intervened between the father and daughter, persuading him, "I'm sorry, Dr. Brown, it's none of Angela's business, she's telling the truth. She..." "Well, Wilson," David said coldly, "if you don't mind, let me handle these family disputes myself." He tried to restrain himself and said in a conciliatory tone, "I'm sorry, It’s a mess.” He glanced back at his daughter, “Go back to your room, Angela, I’ll talk to you later! Tell your mother, just say I want her to pick you up before dinner.”

Sabatini watched this scene with great interest, secretly happy: "Great, even better than what I hoped to see, he is easy to deal with." The silver-white streamlined high-speed train was speeding at a speed of 250 kilometers per hour on the fields of North Texas. In just a few minutes, the lights of the Dallas transportation hub appeared on the horizon.This hub station occupies a large area of ​​25 square kilometers.It consists of three parts: the airport, the station and the town.It was built in 2185, in order to distribute long-distance flight passengers to various places by high-speed trains, it has flourished like other transportation hubs in the world, and now there are thousands of residents here.Most residents work in transport hubs.They don't have to commute to work because they live in apartments just south of the main terminal.The terminal has four large hotels and more than a hundred different stores, including a branch of the Donatelli fashion chain.

"I was 19 years old." The train was about to stop, a young man said to Frances, "run away from the reformatory, and for more than two months, I watched your serials on TV almost every day. , That's when I knew what love is. I really appreciate your show." Frances, who was used to being recognized in public, listened to his compliments with pleasure.When the train came to a standstill and she was on the platform, Frances smiled again at the young man.With Reggie Wilson strapped to her camera gear, the two headed together for the short rail ride to the hotel. "Are you used to this?" Reggie asked her.

She gave him an odd look. "I mean being the center of attention, being a public figure," he added. "Yes," she replied, "Of course I'm used to it." She laughed to herself, six months later, this man still doesn't understand her.Maybe he was too brooding, trying to figure out why some women were as ambitious as men. "Before I got to know you during that filming internship, your two TV series have been welcomed by the audience." Reggie is still saying, "Every time I go out to eat or go to other public places with you, I always meet Your fans." The rail car left the station and came to the shopping center, Reggie was still talking.On one side of the shopping center, a group of people were watching the performance advertisement in front of the theater, in which American playwright Lindsay Olson's operetta "Storm and Storm" was being staged. "Have you seen the play?" he asked casually. "I saw the movie five years ago, when it first came out." Before Frances could answer, he continued, "It's a queer story, It tells the story of two people who share a room on a snowy night in Chicago. They are both married, but they fall in love when they confide in each other about their disappointment in life. In my opinion, this is an absurd drama .” Frances did not hear him.A boy gets into the car at the mall, and the kid reminds Frances of her cousin Robert.His hair and skin were dark, and his face was chiseled and very handsome. "How long has it been since I saw him?" she thought. "Oh, it's been three years. He must be in Passitaro with his wife Maria." Frances' mind popped up.She seemed to see herself laughing and running through the streets of Orvieto.She was nine, or ten, innocent, happy, carefree; Robert was fourteen.They played football on the square in front of Tama II's palace.She likes her cousin and often teases him; but he is always so generous, personable, honest and reliable.Robert was the only fond memory of her childhood. The rail car stops in front of the hotel.Reggie stared at her without blinking.It seemed to Frances that he had asked her some question just now. "What's the matter?" he asked her as they got out of the car. "I'm sorry, honey," she said, "I was distracted, what did you say?" "I didn't know I was such a boring person," Reggie said angrily. "I was asking you what you're going to do for dinner tonight? I think we could have Chinese food or Cajin dinner." Frances was not interested in his plans, saying, "I'm so tired today, I think I'll just grab a bite to eat in my room, I've got a little work to do." She saw in his face that his pride had been hurt. , so she kissed him on the lips and said, "At ten o'clock, you can come to my room and we'll have a drink." Upon entering the hotel room, Frances first opened the computer terminal to check for any mail.There are four letters.The directory has the name, address, date and priority of each sender.The Urgent Priority System is an invention of International Communications Corporation.The company, one of three telecommunications companies that survived the upheaval, began to prosper after consolidating its position in the middle of the century.Each morning, the user enters the schedule and identifies which letters are prioritized.Frances had earlier decided to enter the rush priority program into David Brown's terminal because she wanted the videotaping of his family to be completed in one day without interruptions and delays. A priority-marked video letter from Carlo Bunche, three minutes long.Frowning, Frances keyed in a private code that sent the signal to the television.A middle-aged Italian man appeared on the screen, dressed very brightly, sitting on a recliner with a fireplace behind him. "Hello, baby." He greeted her.Why, he asked, had she refused to appear in his company's summer sportswear ad?His company had offered to pay her a huge fee.His ad agency had already written the creative, with lots of talk about space.The show would not air until Operation Newton was over, so he reassured her that it would not conflict with her contract with the International Space Agency.He added that although he had had some misunderstandings with Frances in the past, it had been many years ago and he told her not to take it to heart.He begged her to hear back within a week. "Fuck you, Carlo!" thought Frances, and then was a little surprised at her own anger.There were very few people in this world who could make her emotional, but this guy was one of them.She typed a text to her London-based agent Darnell Portman: "Hi Darnell. I'm Frances and I'm in Dallas. Tell that bastard Carlo Bunch he's giving me a mountain of gold , I won't advertise him either. Also, I know his main competitor these years is Doratri, why don't you go to their advertising director, Gabriela or something, I'll meet you in Milan Just pass her once and say that I'd be happy to do something for their company after the Newton project is over, probably in April or May." She paused, "Okay, I'll be back in Rome tomorrow night. Ask Hi Heather." Frances' longest video call was made to her by her husband Albert.He is gray-haired, tall, a well-known entrepreneur, about 60 years old.He is Director of the Italian Division of the Schmidt-Hagenlist Multimedia Group.This company controls one-third of the newspapers and magazines in Europe, and is also the overlord of commercial television in Germany and Italy. Sitting in their home, Albert was sipping brandy in a posh casual dress that was reserved for housework.His voice was kind and genial, more like a father than a husband.He told Frances that her interview with Admiral Otter had aired on news programs all over Europe that day, as before, and that he appreciated her insight and excellent commentary.He thought Otter looked like a complete egoist. "It's not surprising," mused Frances, when she heard what her husband had said about Otter, "whoever said it wasn't, absolutely, but he's been very useful to me." Before saying goodbye to her, Albert gave a good news about one of his children.Frances has three stepsons, all older than her.Her husband concluded by saying that he missed her very much and looked forward to seeing her tomorrow night. "Me too," thought Frances as she prepared to reply to him. "I feel very happy living with you, free and safe." Four hours later, Frances was standing on the balcony of her room, smoking a cigarette comfortably in the December Texas wind.She wrapped herself tightly in the thick hotel pajamas. "At least it's not like California here," she thought, puffing on her cigarette. "Some hotel rooms have balconies for smoking, and those anti-smoking fanatics on the West Coast of the United States want to punish smokers. Severe punishment." She went to the side rail.From here, she could see the supersonic aircraft approaching the airport from the west.She seemed to see herself sitting in an airplane.Tomorrow, she will fly back to Rome.She imagined that the plane in the sky was coming from Tokyo, Japan.Before the Great Turmoil, Tokyo was unquestionably the economic capital of the world, but in the middle of the century it was ruined by a shortage of raw materials.Now, when the world has returned to the era of free trade, the Japanese have made it prosperous again. Frances watched the plane land and then looked up at the starry sky above her.She took another deep breath of the cigarette, exhaled lightly, and watched the curl of smoke slowly spread out in the air and disappear. "So, Frances," she paid herself, "the greatest task of your life is now before you. Is there any chance for you to be immortal? At least, you can remain aboard the Newton for a long time in people's hearts." Memory." Her thoughts turned to Operation Newton.She wondered, what are those strange extraterrestrial intelligent creatures?They can actually build such a huge spaceship and send it to the solar system. Her mind snapped back to reality, recalling the contract Brown had signed when she left his house that afternoon. "The contract has made us partners, the Honorable Dr. Brown. This is the first step in my plan. Today I saw a gleam of greed in your eye. Well, I can't be wrong. Today in Brown's study, when they finished discussing the contract, Frances kissed David perfunctorily. For a moment, she felt that Brown wanted to kiss her back, which was very meaningful. Frances stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray and went back to the room.As soon as the door was opened, there was a sound of breathing.Reggie Wells lay on the messy king-size bed.His snoring echoed in the room. "Look how good your body is." Frances looked at him silently. "It's a pity that this is not a sports field. If you are more shrewd and even have a little trick, wouldn't it be much more interesting?"