Free Socket 2 - The Training of Socket Greeny by Tony Bertauski

I was, and in full sensory perception. It
just took a little longer reconnecting to skin than usual.
    My scalp hurt. There was no cut or blood. It
was just a memory. I opened the door. Mother was at the kitchen
table dumping things into her briefcase.
    “How’d you know I was training?” I asked,
rubbing my head.
    “Your imbed was active.”
    “I had a silencer running. Didn’t you think I
was sleeping?”
    “There’s only one reason to run a
silencer.”
    “Maybe I was hooking up with someone. You
know, in a social world or something.”
    She paused to sip her coffee and flicked her
eyes in my direction. Please.
    “You’re going back to the Garrison?” I
asked.
    “There’re some urgent meetings.”
    “When aren’t they urgent?”
    She grunted, tilting her head in
agreement.
    “When can I go back?”
    “You’ve only been home two days, Socket.
Besides, Pon is still on assignment. There’s no point so just
relax.”
    It felt like two years. The weakness I left
the Garrison with was already gone. Well, mostly gone, but I’d been
through worse. Sitting around the house wasn’t as glamorous as I
imagined. The normal world went about their daily lives while I sat
around scratching my balls.
    I shuffled to the refrigerator and grabbed
some orange juice, then fell in a chair at the table. My frizzy
hair fell in the cup.
    “Why don’t you do something today, like get
together with Chute and Streeter?” Mom asked.
    “Chute’s coming over tonight.”
    “Well, there you go. Get out and enjoy your
time off. Go watch one of her games or hang out with Streeter. I’m
sure he’d love to have you in virtualmode lab.”
    “If I could find him.”
    She mumbled about forgetting something,
rushed to her bedroom. “That reminds me,” she called. “He left a
message.”
    Why didn’t he just call my nojakk?
    “Yes?” Mother said, apparently answering a
call. “Yes, I’ll be there within a half hour. Make sure the
ambassador has a projection pad…” She closed the door.
    I finished the juice, spilled some on my
shirt next to a jelly stain. “Play messages,” I called.
    The television square lit on the wall in the
adjoining family room. Streeter appeared inside it. Well, it wasn’t
exactly him, it was his animated sim. The details were so
good that someone might think it was a real person; that is, if
they believed a blood-stained barbarian lived in this world.
    “Socket, hey.” His bushy mustache shook over
his lips. “Just returning your message.”
    Which one?
    “I’ve been, uh, kind of busy, you know.
Things have been weird… not that you’d know.” He looked like he
wanted to spit. What’s that all about? “Anyway, I, uh, I’ll
get back to you later on, you know. Maybe I’ll see you at Chute’s
game tomorrow night.”
    Message over. No goodbye, no later on, no see
you some other time. Just out. He wanted me to see him make that
face, see that something was on his mind. But why the
sim?
    “What’s wrong?” Mother stood at her bedroom
door, fixing her collar.
    “Something’s up with Streeter.”
    “What?”
    “Don’t know. I called him half a dozen times
yesterday and then he just sends a message instead of calling
back.”
    “That doesn’t sound like him.” She checked
her face in the mirror next to the front door, then finished her
coffee in one gulp. “I’ll be back tonight.”
    “Something going on?”
    “Some complications with Pike’s relocation.”
She tipped her cup again, even though it was empty. “There was a
slip up in the preliminary move. Pike overwhelmed another minder
and nearly escaped.”
    “You call that a slip up? Is he all
right?”
    “No.”
    Minders weren’t child’s play; they were
masters of the psychic realm. They could strip a human of all his
memories, erase his mind like a hard drive, spin his consciousness
around until he vomited. They could will a man’s heart to stop with
a single thought. They were the most valued of all Paladins. The
most