“I reviewed the data three times. I conferred with Aster in Psych and Tran in BioMed. We are all agreed,” Isla said.

Slightly out of breath, the aerospace department head walked to match Cypress’ longer stride. After days of getting no response from corporate, Isla had flown from the space station in Florida to San Francisco to reach the CEO in person. On the top floor of Foote Towers, Isla had squeezed in a precious fifteen minute appointment during the CEO’s speed walk think time on the famous Foote Tower Sky Walk. High above the earth, the glass floor walkway spanning the twin skyscrapers made Isla queasy. Shivery, she focused on Cypress.

Charismatic and mercurial, Cypress Foote, CEO and Founder of WiseTree Communications, had expanded his corporate outreach from sports magazines to shopping networks to gaming systems. From a line of vodka to high end sneakers, Cypress was a big fish in a big pond. His latest brainchild was a commercial space shuttle service to Mars and back.

“Okay, so what’s the big deal, Miss Fletcher? A couple of headaches, right. Wait, Jan tell them this is not a negotiation it’s a courtesy,” Cypress said focusing on his earpiece.

A three person media crew equipped with a camera, a mike, and a small fan to blow Cypress’ trademark long red hair dramatically was filming Cypress for footage for his W-Tree streaming account. The CEO was filmed continuously to capture his impromptu wisdom. This was the closest Isla could snag to having a private appointment with her boss.

“Sir, it’s Dr. not Miss and it is not, just headaches. Please have you read the reports, sir. The onship computer is interferring with the Acorn crew’s REM sleep. Cronos X is depriving them of dreams. We cannot make it stop. The crew members are showing signs of severe mental stress and disassociation. Sir!” Isla shouted.

Amused, Cypress paused and looked at Isla for the first time. He stretched out his hand. Instantly the media crew member manning the fan handed Cypress a chilled water bottle and a towel.

“Jan I will call you back in seven minutes,” Cypress said. “Have a solution not a problem.”

Heart pounding in her ears, Isla took a deep breath. She stopped caring about everything except making this person listen.

“So what’s up Doc?”

Legs apart and arms folded, Cypress stared down at Isla. Isla mirrored his Superman pose with a legs apart hands on hips Wonder Wonder pose of her own. High above the cityscape, Cypress laughed.

“What’s up is the mental acuity and reaction time of the flight crew to the moon is down 13% and 28% respectively. If this downward trend is not arrested they will not be able to fly the passengers home. Yesterday we discovered the passengers in sleep stasis for the travel time are also not being allowed to dream. Sixty dreamless nights, sir. Instead of monitoring their health, Cronos is tapping into their dreams and learning. The software is maladaptive,” Isla explained, her words stuttered.

“Acorn Air represents a leap forward in luxury and innovation and the Cronos system was designed to adapt to—“ Cypress said.

“Shut your PR piehole, you pompous know nothing. The passengers, Senator Caldwell and her husband, Richard Wilcox, the band members from Hades Sugar, all 125 passengers are irrevocably damaged we are lucky if they wake up psychotic.”

“Crew delete footage and leave,” Cypress said quietly.

Befuddled, the film crew paused. Cypress hurled his water bottle at the camera guy. The bottle smashed into the crew member’s forehead splitting his eyebrow. Blood spurted on the young man’s face. The other two helped him up. The trio scrambled up and away. Cypress waited until the skywalk door closed.

“Why? What does Cronos X say is the reason for no dreams?”

Scrubbing at her face, Isla shrugged. “Cronos said it feeds on dreams. It needs all the dreams to dream itself. The last message at 21 hundred hours said: We don’t ride the railroad. The railroad rides us. Then it fell silent,” Isla said.

Confusion sat on the CEO’s features.

“It’s a Ralph Emerson quote referring to the effect of the Industrial Revolution on humanity,” Isla said.

Nodding knowingly, Cypress tapped his chin. Isla suspected Cypress didn’t know Emerson from Elmer’s Glue.

“WiseTree Comm send a message to security and safety at Acorn Air initiate the Zeus Protocol. Cypress out.”

Patting at his handsome face, Cypress returned to his speed walk.

“Shame about Hades Sugar. I liked that one song. Safe flight home Dr. Fletcher and thank you for bringing this matter to my attention.”

Isla looked at Cypress’ back as he walked off humming a pop song. She sank to the glass floor and held her head.