Asylum
Copyright© 2026 by Tedbiker
Chapter 10
Hector Finch:
The fallout from the attack on our Terran embassy was significant but distant. The important thing was that it was repelled without any actual losses to our security, though several were wounded. Charles was unhurt and Naomi was here visiting her family on Andromeda with Lucien. In the time between the attack and the report from the investigation team, Graham Sinclair, his wife Giselle and their two teenaged offspring, arrived by Mat Trans accompanied by two items each of hand luggage. Graham told me that they’d stored a few items they wanted to keep back on Earth.
“We’ve had to move around,” he said, “as you probably understand. So we got used to keeping a minimum of stuff. The rest, a few items of furniture, sentimental value, are in store awaiting an opportunity to get it here.”
“I hope it will not be too long before relations with United Planets are such that we can arrange for delivery,” I said. “Meanwhile, you, your wife ... Giselle? Yes, Giselle, and your two kids should begin your accelerated education. I’ll introduce you to Gladys and Scott Ross. They head up the hyper-space training, though most of it is by Andromeda herself.”
“You speak as if Andromeda were a person.”
“She is. Andromeda is a sentient computer who administers the management of this planet. She requires an authorised entity before carrying out some measures. Presently, that is me. But make no mistake, Andromeda is a person with feelings and emotions.” I paused, “and my wives and I expect you and your family to have dinner with us once you are settled in your new quarters.”
“Wives...” Graham paused as he was turning to leave. “How many wives?”
“Three,” I told him. “Anya was first. Then Romy, and lastly Syretia.”
“Oh.” He frowned. “That’s still somewhat ... surprising. I expect we’ll become accustomed to it. I’ll look forward to bringing my family to meet you all.” He saluted in the Terran way. I returned it in the Andromedan form. He hesitated, then nodded and left.
That evening, I wasn’t thinking about Graham or his family. We were walking to the meeting hall for a concert. It was, perhaps, not surprising that concerts presented by our (mostly) amateur musicians had proven popular. A selection of music of different genres was offered by a small ensemble or individual musicians. This formed the principal entertainment for our community, though a group was working on presenting drama. The first, and I was looking forward to it, was to be Gilbert and Sullivan’s ‘The Mikado’.
Anya was acting as Master of Ceremonies, and she introduced the concert. The room was full, as usual. The musicians were arranged in a double semi-circle around the conductors rostrum.
“Good evening, and welcome to our concert. We have a great programme this evening which I’m sure we’ll all enjoy. To begin, though, I wish to introduce a talented young man who is a recent arrival. Bernie?”
Bernie Taylor stepped out from backstage, approached Anya, bowed to her, then to the audience, before sitting at the Steinway.
“To open our programme this evening, Bernie will play Beethoven for us, his Sonata number 23 in F minor, better known as his ’Appassionata.’” Anya finished, nodded to Bernie, and stepped away from the rostrum.
Now that piece is aptly named. Bernie began a little tentatively, but was soon lost in the thrall of it. I’ve heard it played many times by different virtuosi, but never better. As the last chord faded, I was on my feet applauding as were many around me. Bernie just sat at the Steinway, looking a little confused. As the applause continued, Anya went to him and whispered something in his ear. She held out her hand. He took it, stood and walked with her to the front of the dais. Bowed to the audience, then turned and bowed to the ensemble who were also standing and applauding. Anya whispered again. He nodded and returned to the piano stool. The applause subsided.
He reached for the keys delicately and ’Für Elise’ emerged. At the end, more genuine applause. This time he stood without prompting, bowed to the audience and to the ensemble, and walked off the dais. The applause died as he disappeared from view.
Anya stood at the rostrum. “I think you’ll agree that we look forward to hearing more from that young man,” she said, smiling, provoking another scatter of applause. “But let’s carry on with the programme.”
We were treated to ‘Morning Mood’ from the flautist, a jig from a pair of violinists, and a piece I didn’t recognise (but enjoyed and resolved to ask about) on the cello. We then broke for an intermission. Bernie reappeared to be embraced by his mother and congratulated by as many others who could get to him. Snacks, wine and beer were consumed, then it was time for the ... what was supposed to be ... the climax. Anya played Grieg’s ’Piano concerto in A minor’, accompanied by the ensemble who did a good job of replacing a full orchestra. I love the piece, and it was well received. The evening closed with ’Ashokan Farewell’.
Romy, Syretia and I waited for Anya, who was speaking to the other musicians. When we were together, and headed for the exit, I realised Graham was sitting at the back with his wife and two teenaged children. He was in ASN uniform, but without rank insignia. The two youngsters were both in the cadet equivalent. He and the teens snapped to attention – he’d obviously drilled the kids – and saluted the Andromedan way, which I returned with a smile. He then introduced me to Giselle, who was in a dress, formal, but with simple lines which accentuated her toned figure.
“You’re a teacher, Graham tells me.”
“That’s right. But I’m not sure what I have to offer with your facilities here.”
“Oh, believe me, Andromeda’s sleep-teaching doesn’t replace the classroom. It just implants information. The classroom teaches the student to access, integrate and use that information. You will, all of you, wake up each morning with data you probably won’t be aware of. You’ll then have avatars teaching you how to get at the data. Andromeda has something of a sense of humour, by the way. She uses avatars based on human scientists: Albert Einstein, Nils Bohr, other specialists. Yvonne Taylor found herself instructed by Paracelsus, or rather an avatar based on him. You will learn, then you will teach the youngsters.”
Giselle had the merest hint of an attractive accent which matched her south Europe complexion. I took a chance, and continued:
“Madame, je pense que nous serons ravis de vous accueillir.”
She quirked a smile. “Monsieur, vous me faites trop d’honneur.” But she went on, “Thank you. I hope you’re right.”
I turned to the two youngsters. “Young lady, young man, I hope you’re enjoying your training?”
The girl, a pretty if sturdy brunette, answered. “Yes, sir. It’s awesome. Andromeda placed me on the command track. I hope I’m up to it.” She glanced at her brother.
“I’m in engineering,” he said, clearly enthusiastic. “I’ve always enjoyed finding out how things work and fixing them.”
That’s good,” I nodded. “If you’re doing something you enjoy, especially if it’s a challenge, you’ll do your very best with it.”
“Yes, sir!” They responded in unison.
“If you’re all settled in,” I added, looking at Graham, glancing round at the others, “we’re looking forward to having you join us for dinner. Tomorrow evening?”
Graham looked round at his family. Giselle was smiling, nodding. The two teens were more serious, but nodded too. “We’ll look forward to it,” he said.