Free The Lives of Tao by Wesley Chu Page B

in our reactions and our thoughts.  
    “ Will I become more alien?”
    Hardly. I have interacted with humans for thousands of years. You will have interacted with us for only your lifetime. It is a little different.  
    “So, that’s it, huh? You and I are stuck together, and we have to make like two peas in a pod. Is there anything else?”
    There was another pause before Tao spoke. There is more we need to discuss, but I believe this is sufficient for today. You should get back to your meeting. They will be missing you.  
    Roen looked at his watch and cursed. “Crap, I’ve been gone for an hour! I’m in so much trouble!” He raced back to his office as fast as he could, huffing and puffing by the time he reached the War Room. Trying to act as casual as possible, he sat back into his chair and shrank from the scowls coming his way.
    “Where have you been?” Peter hissed, the serene Dalai Lama demeanor shattered. “We could use some help figuring out this java dump.”
    “I wasn’t feeling well,” Roen said stiffly.
    “Well, get better fast or we’ll be here all night.” Peter pushed a stack of printouts toward him.
    Roen grimaced at the pages of garble and held in a sigh. “Great, I’m going to be here forever.”
    It is only a java dump. It should not take that long to figure out.  
    “Well, it’s a little hard for me to focus with everything that’s happened today.”
    Flip the page.  
    “What? You can read code?”
    I can do many things. Here, I am already done. Flip the page.  
    Roen flipped to the next page.
    Again. Next page.  
    “Already?”
    Just flip it.  
    He flipped to the third page. In a matter of minutes, Tao finished going through the large stack of pages. It actually took Roen longer to flip the pages than it did for Tao to finish scanning them. Eventually, Roen just tossed each finished page on the floor to keep up. Several people in the room snickered. Their amusement turned into amazement when he grabbed Peter’s keyboard and typed in a few commands.
    “Problem fixed.” He grinned. He stood up and grabbed his bag. “Call me if you need anything else. Otherwise, have a good night.” Without another word, Roen walked out of the War Room, whistling all the way.

 
    CHAPTER SEVEN
    GENJIX
     
    Feeling like he just made parole, Roen pranced out of the office and strolled down the street toward the Grant Park North garage. After experiencing the mugging, he decided that the extra cost of parking close to work every day was well worth it. Evening had fallen and the street lamps were blinking on, lighting up the otherwise dark and quiet streets. Thick rolling clouds were moving in from the horizon, covering much of the sky, with barely a star peeking through, as a strong gust blew in from over Lake Michigan.
    Roen shivered and pulled his hood over his head, tightening the straps on his down jacket. He felt like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. He dug out an old pair of holey gloves which had seen much better days. Springtime in Chicago was unpredictable and sometimes fiercely cold. That still didn’t dampen Roen’s mood though. He grinned like a mad fool as he kicked up his feet and brushed his hands along a metal grating. It felt good to not be the most clueless person in the room.
    “Hey Tao, how did you know what to fix on that java dump?”
    We were involved with the birth of the Internet since the mid-Sixties. There are large divisions of Quasing who advance our cause through the development of human technology. Just like your people, we specialize in different tasks. Some work on technology, others diplomacy, and still others military sciences.  
    “So would I work in technology?”
    I am not talking about the host. The host adapts to his Quasing’s specialty, which in my case is infiltration and covert operations. While you obviously are not trained for this, I will teach you.  
    “Well, I for sure am not cut out for that covert stuff.”
    We will cross that bridge