Intro: I am fascinated with how people make difficult decisions and got started with this story on a family trip while thinking about mental health issues in the US. I wish I had pixie dust to share around.
“Momma! Jesus bugs!!”
The flotilla of six rafts and two kayaks had beached briefly alongside a narrowing stretch of the Owyhee Gorge while one of the yellow vested guides climbed boulders to scout the rapids ahead. The last raft was short an opportunistic young woman who had scampered out of reach, unable to resist the temptation of small animal life along the shore. After passing the water bugs she then moved upslope to victoriously display a garter snake.
A few minutes later, the girl’s mother shouted dejectedly from the boat, “Come on back, Janey, it looks like we’re taking off again!” Lenore, the Mom, found the words were getting harder and harder to get out as she could not bear public censure for poor parenting. Having a heart attack would be easier to manage. Still, this was the first time Janey had been truly happy in a year. They would all be back in the real world soon enough.
Lenore spoke to the last person in the raft as an aside, “Carol, I can’t keep up with her and really don’t want us kicked out of the program,” she sighed.
Carol, a vigorous and wiry public school teacher retiree, merely nodded reassuringly. A former Marine who smiled a lot, she subscribed to the tough love philosophy and believed that coddling people, even disabled people, just made them weak. Carol was an expert with boats, occasionally hinting or assisting, but she allowed Lenore and Janey to have the full range of authentic, if stressful, river experiences. More often than not, the three of them brought up the rear.
Janey’s shin and forearm bandages were plainly visible when she eventually returned. She didn’t even notice the guide’s admonishments as she tried to feed a potato bug to the captive snake before reluctantly leaving them both on shore.
Sheepishly, her mother launched them through the rapids which proved to be tiny, all three of them following the Guide’s signals as if they knew what they were doing, only getting their arms wet.
“Momma, Jupiter girl says to paddle hard and eat snakes with salt! Can we fry grasshoppers tonight?”
“Good, honey, you do that.” Lenore was not paying attention to the conversation, instead focused on paddling and acutely aware that they were again the last raft by a large margin, delaying the dour second guide who had to bring up the rear in the kayak. Still, she loved being out of radio contact and that someone else was cooking.
“Momma, dragonflies live here!” For Janey, the Owyhee country was magical. Iridescent faerie creatures were truly everywhere. It was high summer. The weather was warm yet unusually there was still enough water to raft the river down the gorge separating Idaho from Oregon. Janey didn’t pay much attention to the stratified rocks, except when they cut her shins open, because she was more interested in the wildlife hiding inside the sparse desert greenery. She was having a great time. The rafts of people were cheerful extras in her internalized movie of herself.
Mostly, Janey climbed all over everything. She was 24 with a fit young adult body, but would never mature intellectually, always needing extra help for anything with complicated steps. Unknown at the time, Lenore had been exposed to a number of solvents and other chemicals during pregnancy because they were leaking from a nearby factory. Mentally, Janey would always be a child.
In spite of all this, her mother tried to give her as normal a life as possible while being chronically broke and working a three-quarter-time job. The trip was a rare bright spot in an increasingly graying year.
In a quiet moment Carol asked, “Janey, who is Jupiter girl?”
“She is blue and dances with six arms,” said Janey as if this definitively answered the question.
Carol coached Lenore and Janey on the magic of concerted rowing which enabled the three of them to catch up and pass the next boat. Cheering, the three high fived each other and promised root beer after the next group of rapids.
Off in a broad slack water current, the married couple in the next raft could hear Janey calling, “We passed you!” Within a few minutes a rather serious looking guide in a kayak caught up and waved. Kelly and Allen, both in their early 40’s, had good quality gear which was well loved in places. They were a trim and relaxed couple. Clearly they were just goofing off, drifting in circles and taking a rest to enjoy the scenery. Allen acknowledged the guide by sitting up. Kelly raised an eyebrow, a moment later they were gracefully paddling in unison.
At the edge of perception, Kelly and Allen could both hear a woman's voice, sometimes speaking, sometimes singing, and once a yawn. The feeling was like a radio not quite tuned to the signal, drifting in and out sometimes forgotten completely.
“Did you say something dear?” Allen asked as he changed up the paddle.
Kelly shook her head, “No, that's the third you’ve asked. Nobody else here, the voices are getting on my nerves too!”
He sighed. “I can usually place sounds, but I seem to be hearing things that aren’t there, oh well.” Allen changed the subject “Good job sewing up that Janey kid this morning. I’m not good with blood.”
“That’s because you’re not a woman. We see it all the time.”
“And, you are a practicing Physician...” he laughed, “You’re just getting more practice on this trip than you bargained for.”
“I don’t think I could handle having a child that didn’t grow up. I’m half worried that Lenore might not last to the end of this trip. I really am fine not having kids of our own.”
“I know,” answered Allen, “but I might like to borrow Janey for a few more stretches. This morning she asked me how to walk on water like a bug and we talked about that for ten minutes.” Allen was a computational chemistry professor at a large state university with a reputation for questioning the fundamental nature of things. Raised on Science Fiction, Allen was a sucker for crazy points of view and engineering challenges.
Again they drifted out of conversation as Kelly pondered, but they maintained a decent pace with synchronized paddling and easily caught the rest of the group.
Kelly and Allen, married 19 years, were rafting down the Owyhee gorge for the 4th time together. Usually they applied for their own permits with friends but this year they had missed the permit lottery and happily joined a trip which had cancellations and included a few disabled people. This trip was their opportunity to relax.
To Allen, the Owyhee desert country was unspoiled minimalist beauty. The rocks were craggy, the sky a piercing blue, and birds filled many niches of the ecosystem with vultures and raptors up high. The plants along the river’s edge sheltered an abundance of insects and lizards with the occasional finches or mockingbirds.
Kelly and Allen had lately adopted Janey as they all shared a love of the electrical sensation of dragonflies passing by.
Kelly had drifted into her own quiet world, thinking about evaporation rates of willows and sage, when about five minutes later Allen spoke up causing her to jump. “Good, if I told you I was hearing a strange woman in my head, you'd dump a bucket over me!”
Kelly was serious by nature. She considered Allen the dreamer of the two but thought he brought out the best in her. Frowning in mock severity, she settled for a glancing splash of the paddle, but she worried that something was seriously wrong if she and Allen were both hearing voices.
The expedition became a hive of activity when everybody beached together that afternoon to pitch camp at one of the few locations with enough level spaces to handle their group. Each person had a job; setting up tents, cooking, laundry, equipment repair, and eventually for the lucky ones, goofing off before the evening meal which showed up about 6 pm. Cooking was communal with people eating in small groups or clustering around the campfire.
During the afternoon and evening, Kelly and Allen each made a point of spending quality time with Janey to give Momma-Lenore a break. To see the world through the girl's uncomplicated eyes was inspiring. Kelly asked Janey, “What do you like most about Dragonflies?”
“Dragonflies are blue and then dragonflies are green. They fly to me. And, they don’t have to stay in the boat because they can go anywhere they want!”
Kelly replied, “Where do you want to go, Janey?”
The answer was immediate, “Joey went to College,” she said, “You get striped sweaters to wear like a scarf!”
Momma-Lenore and Allen were chatting as they watched Janey help Kelly and Carol-the-schoolteacher with dinner preparations. Janey was heating up baked beans without assistance. She had managed to cut up and add hot dogs just fine and hadn’t burned anything yet.
“This trip is good for her. I've never seen her cook anything without help,” said her mother.
“Have you noticed anything else,” asked Allen, “like maybe hearing strange echoes in the gorge?”
“No echoes, but I keep getting the stinkeye from that guide, Jurgen. I think he will kick us out next time because we hold everyone up, but mostly I'm just grateful for all the participation. We couldn't be out here otherwise. The weather has been wonderful, too. I don’t know what I’m going to do when this is over.”
The sun was long since down, the boats were dry and tightly clustered up a narrow section of beach near a campfire burnt to embers. Tents were well spread out to take the best advantage of the flat spaces along the cliff side. Everyone was in the process of making their way to bed. Kelly and Allen, last even to arrive at their tent, were somber. They both found themselves exhausted.
As people were entering to their tents to sleep, Janey had an episode. Kelly could see the whole thing out of the tent flap. Janey started giggling uncontrollably, climbed out of her tent wearing nothing but shorts and started spinning like a top and covering ground along the shore shouting “Laughing Jupiter girl spins!” Carol was eventually able to corral Janey toward bed. They were all so spread out; nobody else had been able to catch up. This was the first time any of the rest of them had seen Janey’s truly explosive energy.
The light wind continued through the night masking other small noises, and for a few hours at least, Kelly and Allen slept. The ghost voice had been absent since mid-afternoon, but started up again shortly after midnight. Kelly sat bolt upright, a half dozen conflicted emotions playing out across her face as she turned on a small LED lantern hanging from the center of the dome tent and methodically started to look through her bedding and belongings for the source of the sound.
Luckily for him, Allen was still asleep. Kelly could hear clearly at last. It was a female human voice, but Kelly did not understand the language. The feeling was as if she were face-to-face with someone inside the tent which raised the hairs on the back of her neck. Kelly, who had been living with this strangeness for the better part of two days, needed to finish this. Worried she might be going insane, she decided to let Allen sleep while she tried to gather more information. Also, she didn't altogether approve of other women speaking inside his head. Kelly spoke firmly but somewhat quietly. “I can’t understand you. Do you hear me?”
She was answered by an electronic calibration tone, and then the human female voice began speaking in English. "Yes, I understand you. It’s working. My name is Makena.”
“I’m Kelly. What in the hell is this all about? Where are you?”
“I live on an abandoned platform in the Pleiades. This is very important: where are you, and how do you count time?”
Kelly responded immediately, “You live on a tropical island?”
“No, I mean a deep space platform, orbiting an anonymous blue star in the constellation Pleiades.” Makena gave just a hint of attitude, but was very clearly trying to make a good impression.
“Look, you’ve been bothering us for a few days now, why?”
Makena answered, “I need help.”
Kelly involuntarily paused to shake her head, “Fair enough, how are you talking to me?” Kelly had gone through her bedding, clothing, and was working her way through her belt-pack which doubled as a purse, but hadn’t found anything which looked like it could house a radio receiver. “Makena, where did you plant the radio? You sound a little bit crazy.”
“My end is a COMM unit with dozens of components and six different consoles, all of which fit inside an eleven meter sphere. You should have the same on your end.”
Kelly’s raised eyebrows said it all; this answer wasn’t helping, but at least Makena didn’t sound overtly hostile. Kelly paused a moment, then decided to seize the initiative. “I’ll play along, but you’ve got to keep answering my questions. I live in Idaho, the year is 2014. We have about 365 and a quarter days in a year. We are in the Owyhee Gorge, but apparently not out of radio contact. So, how exactly are you talking inside my head? Also, you asked about time -- why on Earth should it matter?”
“Earth... that’s incredible... have you even launched anybody into deep space yet?”
“No, we sent humans to the moon a few times around when I was born, but nothing but probes anywhere since. My turn now, HOW ARE YOU TALKING INSIDE MY HEAD? If you don’t answer this, we’re done.” Kelly’s voice carried enough to disturb Allen, who rolled over.
Makena continued, “I told you already, I’m using a big ancient COMM unit I found searching this platform for treasures -- I’m not even really sure what it is. I have spent about 20 days so far trying to get it to work, but I think it may have been damaged as you are the first solid contacts I've been able to make. What is your machine like?”
“I have no goddamned machine unless you planted one on me somehow. I have no idea, but I’m going to have to make this stop. This is your last chance, why do you want to talk to me?”
“Look, I’m stuck here. I don’t have anybody to talk with and just helping me figure out this machine could be a big help. Maybe it’s worth something.”
Kelly was tired, “How do I know you’re not a space alien trying to eat my brain? Or more likely you’re a hallucination from a nasty virus and I’m running a fever. Worse, maybe I have a disease...”
Makena sighed, “No, it says here that your temperature is normal, but your pituitary function is a bit low. You should have that checked out. Nothing serious though. Also, this device works because we’re similar. I can only reach three people out of the 20 in your group. Everybody else is too different from me.”
“Good for them!” Kelly was tired, and wasn’t any closer to being able to sleep. She had lost control of the situation and somehow felt that she had ended up on Salvador Dahli’s chessboard, or was tumbling down Alice’s rabbit hole while trying to hold a teacup with her pinky finger up. She snapped, “You're like a stalker pen-pal? What the hell is your problem?”
Makena, slightly put off, answered slightly defensively, “I don't know what that means.”
Kelly came back to center, answering, “Nevermind... a pen-pal is an average person in a foreign place to exchange messages with, and stalker is obsessed, not knowing when to quit.”
“That’s me. I’m not normal, but I was a few thousand years ago when I went into cold sleep. It was only supposed to be until we got to the next system, but I missed my era completely. When I woke up, everybody remotely like me was long since gone and they were emptying this place out. I wasn’t needed anymore.
I can’t live on a planet because of the gravity and I don’t fit into standard human shaped living spaces. Here, I’m just a curiosity. I'm exploring this old place because I don’t know where else to go.” Makena was silent a moment then continued, “So what’s Earth like? What are the best insects to eat?”
“Insects aren’t food,” said Kelly flatly. The whole situation was bothering her.
“You have so many to choose from and you don't eat ANY? You must be in an alternate universe! Well, that and the time slippage, I mean.”
“Do you have any idea how weird this all sounds?”
“Yes. Imagine waking up after your civilization evaporated! It’s going to. I’m answering your questions, what more do you want?”
Kelly took this moment to weigh what she’d been told, nodding in spite of herself. At this last outburst of Makena’s, Kelly reflected that they might be similar after all, and besides, she really didn’t feel like she had a virus. If Makena was a brain sucking alien, she was convincing.
Kelly tried a different tack, probing to see just how far this convincing could extend. “Lobsters might be considered a giant aquatic insect, how about that?” She changed the subject. “Look, if your body shape isn't working out, could you change it?”
“I turned it down because I don’t know if I would still be me,” said Makena. “I love my body! But, maybe you’re right. I need to change something. Maybe I need gonads!”
Kelly mused, “I wouldn’t want to replace my body either. What is special about yours?”
“I’m biosculpted and chose my form when I was nine. This is my identity now -- I am a trained deep space constructor. While genetically this body is mostly human, I am spherical with six arms and three legs.”
Kelly's forehead wrinkled as her expression shifted from a deep focus to a frowning realization, “You've been talking to Janey.”
“Yes. I have good sensory links with her, better than you or the male, but Janey must be about age seven -- her comprehension isn't very good, but she is very happy when we visit. I think my machine may be busted because it says she is an adult which can't be right. She makes me laugh, though, even if we never fully understand each other.”
“Did you help her cook tonight?”
“Yes. She only needed a little coaching to cut the protein and heat the mix. She really did do it on her own. We just talked about it while she worked.”
As it turned out, Allen couldn’t sleep through all this activity and since he also heard Makena in his head, he had been able to listen in on most of the conversation. He spoke up at last, surprising the other two. “Hello Makena, I’m Allen. You do realize that you’re scaring the crap out of us? Are you going to hurt anyone?”
Makena sighed. “I’m an orphan. We’re just talking. I don’t want to hurt anybody.”
Allen was somewhat chastened and continued more conversationally. “Understood, let’s start with easy questions like how do you walk?”
Makena gave a nervous laugh. “My body was made for zero and light gravity environments, but to actually walk in gravity I can move slowly by moving one foot at a time, middle pace by adopting a two and one shuffling gait, and I run by spinning and pivoting one foot in front of the other. I never could master the gazelle one foot at a time run without spinning or doing a wheel of hands.”
“Thank you. If you wanted to leave the platform, where could you go?” Allen asked.
“There are four inhabited systems I could reach from here, but all have too much gravity, and frankly the people were not very interesting. The only reason the platform parked here was for the central location. I seem to have more in common with you than anybody else. No one around here cares about space science anymore.”
Kelly spoke up, “I am curious about the platform you’re living on. Can you tell us how it was made... can you stay there?”
“It was made someplace called Jupiter Station, as near as I can tell between 9,500 and 12,000 standard years ago. And yes, I can stay for a few years perhaps. I have a question. If you don't have a machine, tell me about your location?”
Allen placed his hand over Kelly’s to calm her nervous habit of picking at her fingernails before continuing to speak. “I am choosing to believe you, Makena. Many people would not. To answer your question, this is where the island of Oregon crashed into continental North America. I don't know if that is important, but it is a place where the plates of the planet surface come together. It is very quiet. We have no radio or machine noise because we are deep in a rocky gorge. The location is uncontaminated. Does that help?”
“Thank you,” answered Makena. “This machine was probably made on Earth. I first noticed you about 3 days ago, but could only really use the signal during the last 18 hours. Have you been moving?”
“We’re on a rafting trip. Could the geography have something to do with it?” asked Allen.
“I don’t know, more likely the minerals. Can you stay put?”
“Not really, our group moves out tomorrow, and we don't have much extra food. We could at most stay one extra day.” said Kelly.
Allen interjected, “It's too bad you couldn't just pop through.” Thinking a moment, Allen continued, “I'd be curious to see your platform.”
“I figured out how to start sharing vision, if you don't like it I'll turn it off.” Makena didn’t even hesitate.
The concussion wave caused each of them to cry out, but the experience quickly settled out into something pleasant the three of them would talk about for the rest of their lives. The ancient video conferencing software went active, working directly with their visual cortexes inside their brains.
Allen later described it as if he suddenly had another window. His own eyes were still working and he could see out them, but they receded in importance for a while, so he could look at other vantage points if he wanted.
Kelly described it in terms of the old TV show, Hollywood Squares. Her window included her own two eyes, Allen’s two eyes, and six eyes for Makena, radially located around the upper quarter of her body. Kelly could comfortably zoom in on any two.
Makena had more visual cortex and could comfortably look out Kelly and Allen’s eyes at the same time, as well as reserve two for local work which included setting up a display showing schematics and pictures of the platform and inhabitants over the many years of operation. A second display showed living arrangements including inhabited planets, orbital habitats, and larger spacecraft. This was fantastical. Individual habitats were immense, holding 5000 people each or ten times that number of virtual people. When the platform had been at full strength, there were 36 habitats, all varied, plus the starship frame.
Allen cycled through different options and ended up flipping between Makena’s view and seeing through his wife's eyes. The experience was pleasant for all three and went on for about ten minutes without speaking. Allen and Kelly had gotten up by this time and were taking a slow moonlight walk along the water to avoid disturbing the others. Makena was somewhat embarrassed about the messy communications lab, but the pictures she selected to share were stunning.
Eventually, Makena began talking again, “I've been reading up on this machine, what I can understand anyway. It appears to have the option of sending lots of data, but I don't think this would work without a machine on the other end.”
Kelly continued, “Well, you're talking to us, and we don't have a machine. How do we even speak the same language?”
“We're not. I have a translation bud which seems to remember your dialect, and we're similar enough to be sympathetic. The time slippage is huge though, so we're not in the same universe though we are related. I can’t tell if your universe is the point of origin or mine is. This is all so confusing.”
Allen asked, “So... do you have space aliens shooting everything up?”
“No. There was an alien war once, but they mostly shot us until we managed to get a peace brokered. They were fundamentalists of some sort if that means anything to you. I missed it all because I was sleeping. All I know is that they were off toward Taurus.”
Kelly gave Allen the look that he was out of his mind. He agreed and kept asking questions.
Alan’s next question to Makena caused everyone to frown, “Can you give us any stock tips or other advice. This is cheating I guess, but I’ve got to ask?”
Makena dipped into the archive with a quick search. The machine worked for ten seconds. “I have results of a database search for 21st century corporations associated with deep space, finding two in your area, Industrial Carbon and Congruence Android Systems, both started near Portland early in the century.”
Kelly yawned, “This is fascinating. I really need to crash. Let's talk in the morning. I can’t do anything more now.” By this time Kelly and Allen had made it back inside the tent. She briefly kissed her husband and then surprised herself by rolling over directly into sleep.
The visual channel dropped out when Kelly did, but Allen found he was able to keep talking with Makena without even using his vocal cords, “So you really can't step through?”
“I don’t think so, I’d probably die if I tried,” she answered.
“We wish there was some way to help,” said Allen simply.
“You have, let’s talk in the morning.”
“Goodnight Makena, I really hope you’re not an evil alien set to colonize earth in the name of devil horned rubber ducks!”
After some delay, Makena replied, “Allen, I hope you’re not a science instructor, I never did finish that last homework assignment,” but he was already snoring and the link had broken.
The deep space platform had a 24 kilometer composite spine with diamond spheres of various sizes anchored along the length like berries, some of which had been plucked to leave only dangling connectors. These spine tanks could also be used for factories, labs, and hangars.
Most of the 36 habitats were long gone as only a few of the gantries still held their rolling pin cylinders and just one was still spinning on superconducting bearings to maintain a semblance of gravity.
The ship had been in service for well over 10,000 years when people left in a hurry. Makena was still hoping to find something useful.
The communications bay occupied an average sphere half a kilometer across. Inside, the sign on the door of Makena’s appropriated lab read, Quantum Twin Communications. The previous log entry had been 2,300 years prior. Panels and equipment were everywhere.
Makena attempted to read more of the inscrutable manual but didn't make any progress because the jargon was too thick. She backed up and stretched all her limbs in sequence doing a wave to relieve frustration only to turn reluctantly and head off to consult the old infrastructure android, Horton. She eventually found him cleaning and repairing bio filters in a slightly stinky reclamation facility.
Horton looked like a pastel green human wearing a brown uniform with a silver pin on the left lapel, but he was actually the last operating maintenance android on the platform. The pin meant that he had been the elected leader a habitat serving 30,000 people, but Makena didn’t know the significance.
She started with a question. “Horton, do you know anything about faster than light communications equipment?”
“Yes”
“Are you aware of the large old device in the J21 COMM Lab?”
“Yes”
“Can you operate that device, and explain how it works?”
“Yes and yes,” Horton’s inflection was different each time, and he unintentionally came off sounding like an English butler from 18th Century India who had absolutely no intention of helping.
Remembering Kelly’s stalker comment, Makena persisted, “Horton, would you?”
“Yes” Horton stopped his bio-filter assembly task, and began for the COMM lab.
Makena followed. “I am curious about how this communications channel actually works. Can you describe what it is capable of, and maybe how the other end is receiving?”
“Yes...” Horton was going to stop with this answer, but Makena's rather demanding body language eventually compelled him to continue.
“The instrument was designed as one of a matched set. The other was destroyed. When it worked, a living being could be disassembled and reconstructed at the other end. Without hardware at the other side, I’m not clear how it could work at all.”
Makena said softly, “Horton, it is working without a machine on the other end.”
Horton was dumbfounded momentarily, but quickly set to work looking it over. He began talking as if to himself, “The other end couldn’t be in this universe. I can only speculate that some sort of inheritance property is in play where quantum physics meets membrane theory. Anyway, I’m sure this end could still disassemble a being and transmit the data, but I’m not clear after that.”
Makena asked, “Should I be worried that the equipment hasn’t been used in almost 3000 years, maybe it will give out or blow up or something?”
After running some quick checks Horton answered, “This is a good question. I see you’ve been at this awhile.” At this, Horton made it a point to smile, though he was out of practice. He continued, “The device was designed to last a long time. Some subsystems are down because we don’t have a second machine. At least a gram of twinned matter is at the other end, spread across the site. The machine normally works fine with one twinned atomic particle. This is unprecedented. To answer your original question, every working panel has already passed self test.”
Makena watched a different portion of the device, and nodded as she spoke, “Perhaps you should look at this display over here.”
“I see two genetic standard humans. This device could rewrite one of them to your mental specifications, but doing so would eliminate that individual's personality. More precisely, you would also have their memories, and some sense of what they would have done in the situation, but the decisions would all be yours unless you choose to allow their impulses to control your destiny. You have free will. The host has what free will you give them, if any. This conversion has been deemed a crime on many worlds, but not all.”
“They don’t deserve that.”
Horton, lost in discovery of the machine, attempted to show Makena how it all worked, but it quickly became too complicated for words and Horton found himself looking up more and more until he stopped speaking completely. She became distracted by another interface which claimed to be able to bring Allen and Kelly to the station, either intact with bodies or as data.
While she was investigating, Horton had come to a stopping place and backed away a step, bowing. “Is that all Miss?”
“No, would you help me interpret this reading?” Makena focused instead on Janey.
Horton uncharacteristically took time answering, because this reading made no sense. Actually he had fired up a high speed link to the archive and was surfing a dozen channels to interpret the data. Makena could tell he was working because the radio meter in her bag showed heavy activity.
Eventually, Horton continued. “This one is interesting. Her bioware is degraded, but this machine can compensate by rewiring her considerable remaining brain mass. Even in its current state her frame could easily support an intelligence eight times above a standard human. Unfortunately, this machine was not designed for remote surgery except in the case where a being is used as a living template. The only way for this to work is if you are the template, and your body would be consumed. I am undecided about this. Also, the effort would entirely consume this station, and if I read this correctly, possibly the star as well. The others would need to be away on a spacecraft.”
Makena laughed, “I guess we know what happened to the other machine, this one was the receiver, wasn’t it!”
Without comment, Horton continued working for another eleven minutes, which is a long time for a digital being. After studying the readouts, he began speaking again. “It appears that we can completely replace the damaged neurological functions and retain her entire base personality. There is also room for your consciousness and the majority of your factual knowledge within the additional capacity created by the operation.
I estimate your combined probability of success at 75%, and you will want to avoid brain scans as the additional wiring will be difficult to hide or explain. You can share decision making if you like or abdicate when you like, over time you may or may not merge into one continuous consciousness. I will be back in a few hours after you think this over.”
These were the longest speeches Makena had ever heard from Horton, and she realized that not only was he sentient, but knew a great deal more than she had unwisely assumed. “Thank you,” was the only response she could manage as Horton bowed, then left.
Once out of Makena’s sight, Horton flat out flew down the spine tunnels. He had seldom been this motivated in his 4000 year lifespan. It was clear to him that he needed to evacuate the platform quickly and that if anybody was in control of the situation, he was.
Horton had already contemplated the remaining three biologicals on the station. These folks were not mentally competent and should not have been abandoned. Horton took the law into his own hands. Immediately after leaving Makena (during the time when everybody slept) he simply tranquilized each of the three and bundled them off to the better of the two remaining interstellar shuttles. Actually it was just a high speed probe with lots of data storage. Horton burned off the bodies, storing the images in the probe. In his mind he was saving them. He programmed the coordinates for the nearest inhabited system, and locked the controls. He also set the mayday transponder to begin when they arrived. The mayday clearly spelled out how to recover the people. He declined to send a copy of himself. He felt the same as Makena and had no desire to emigrate to any of these nearby places.
Makena retreated to a small hexagonal compartment elsewhere in the communications bay which she had converted into a living space. It had once been a facility for encasing communications gear in diamond bubbles. She heated up the last of her fried roaches with an infrared lamp and ate some yeasted green kaleophyll crackers which she chased with carbonized water. These were banquet foods.
She then pulled out her inflatable donut and woven blanket which helped her make use of the faint rotational gravity to sleep for a few hours, dreaming of the moonlit Earth she had seen through Kelly’s eyes.
The sun was up the next morning, and Allen was well into his morning routine, dressed and tidying up the tent as he was slipping it into the bag when he noticed that Makena was available for conversation by virtue of her mumbling being audible to him. “Good morning, have you taken over Earth yet,” he asked?
“No, but I know more about how this machine works...” She summarized the operation of the device and the rest of Horton’s lesson all in a few minutes.
Allen stopped her. “Wait, you can simply write over us as if we were blank media?”
“I told Horton you don’t deserve that. It doesn’t seem fair,” said Makena quietly.
“But you can somehow repair Janey if you are the template, and both of you might be swimming around in her brain? Do I have this right?”
“That is what I am told. The operation has a 25% chance of serious failure or death. We’re not even sure how well the two of us could coexist.” Makena’s belief of the enterprise had evaporated. “I think I’m stuck here,” she said.
“Thank you for not erasing us but let me talk more on this end before you shut it down completely. Janey is in a bad way, and it might be worth the risk for her if it is also worth it for you.”
“I’m going to go play with Janey.” Makena was gone.
Allen just sat on his camp stool making a rapid succession of puzzled facial expressions. “I should have been a mime,” he said to himself, “It would make this next conversation easier.”
A few minutes later, marveling at the beautiful sunny morning, Kelly found Allen sitting on his camp stool in the exact same place as if he had been carved there out of the rocks behind him, oblivious to folks breaking down camp and casual requests for help. She had just finished her morning walk and was largely recovered from events of the previous evening. She had coffee. With some prompting, she got Allen to speak.
Allen started explaining the moral dilemma but didn’t get very far before Kelly exploded, “Are you out of your mind? OVERWRITE JANEY?? No way! True, Janey has a low life expectancy, but it is wholly hers. If Makena takes over her body, Janey loses. They could both die!”
Allen was philosophical, still inhabiting his happy place. “Maybe so, but maybe Janey wins by being able to experience a more normal life, even if shared. The repair could be a big deal. Maybe they are both dead anyway? I simply don't know how this works, and I’m not qualified to make this decision.”
It was then, soley from Kelly’s body language of planted feet, that Allen realized the real argument was raging in earnest. He interpreted her stance as, I’m not moving from this spot until we sort this out. We don’t risk Janey! Are you out of your fucking mind!?!!
Allen sighed, and merely rubbed two fingers together. Who will care for Janey when her mother can no longer pay? Really?
Kelly kicked some dirt dismissively. It doesn’t matter if she’s dead! Do you want that on your conscience?
Allen shrugged and pointedly started looking around under bushes and trees before stopping and sighing. I know there was another opportunity around here somewhere, must have lost it... oh wait, we’ve got nothing!
Kelly looked at her hands and then the sky. So do you really think Makena can do anything? Do you trust her? Will she make a mess?
Allen planted his feet and flexed his hands back looking into his wife’s eyes. You’re right, time is up. We try or we don’t, what is it going to be? You’re the doctor. I think it is worth trying, even if it fails.
Kelly sat cross-legged on the ground, tuning out her husband for a few moments to focus. Kelly reflected on her three years working a large hospital emergency room and the experience of making life and death decisions with limited information and no time, committing completely and then moving on. She had seen spectacular failures which had been 98% certain to succeed, as well as successes which shouldn’t have been attempted, and lots of good medicine in between.
The status quo wasn’t working. The intervention, if one believed the information presented, had a better than average chance of helping. The consequences were dire. Time was short. Kelly could find no reason to withhold the choice from Lenore and Janey, but neither could she decide for them unilaterally. Truthfully, Kelly might not have any control over the situation. Kelly looked up at her husband with a forlorn face and tried to speak but failed... How are we going to explain the choice in the few minutes we have to make the decision?
Allen looked at the rocks, nodded, and glanced at the path as if to start walking. We don’t have that long. Time to wing it.
Kelly, resolved to continue, stood up. Go.
Allen nodded. When Kelly reached his side, they left together. Action continued around both of them, oblivious.
The two of them quickly asked Jurgen-the-guide to watch over Janey for a few minutes while she was happily cooking blackberry eyed bunny pancakes.
It was a simple matter to corner Carol and Lenore on camp stools for breakfast. Allen started without preamble,“I’d like to try a thought experiment to clarify how you feel about Janey.”
Lenore answered, “OK sure whatever.”
Kelly began. “If it were possible to give Janey a mental transplant, would you do it?”
Lenore answered immediately. “If we’re talking about a cure which could make her normal and had zero risk of harm, yes. If we are worried about losing her personality or some other substantial injury, we would need to understand the risks. If you’re talking about baboon surgeons digging her brain out with teaspoons, then no. What kind of question is this?”
Kelly tried again. “Let’s pretend we have pixie dust, and you could have whatever you wanted for Janey based on her present condition as a starting point. What would you ask for?”
“Look, I am not rich, and all parents of disabled children worry about the day the parent can no longer care for the child. I have to consider everything. We’re talking about damned pixie dust because there are no good options. Every idea I can think of is absolute shit. If you have something, spill it.” Taking a break, Lenore focused on eating her bacon.
Allen broke in, “Let’s say we have an experimental surgery with a 75% chance of success and 25% chance of death. Success means that Janey gets normal brain capacity and could eventually grow up. What then?”
“Would either of you let the other take a pill with a 1 in 4 chance of death? Still, given the possible gain, I would let Janey make the choice. If I could give her the confidence and skill she has been developing on this trip, I’d do it in a heartbeat.” Lenore was looking somewhat fierce, and Allen was starting to back away.
Carol uncharacteristically spoke up. “Growing up is hard on disabled folks when they outlive family. For Janey, drugs like Ritalin just remove the part of her that’s working. I’ve seen it. She needs something else... something none of us have ever seen.” This ended the conversation as everyone drifted in their own thoughts.
Kelly walked over to Janey who was just sitting down with a vaguely mammalian blackberry pancake. The other adults were in earshot. “Janey, have you been talking to Jupiter girl?”
“I love Jupiter girl. She can spin, and she can cook things, and we laugh, laugh, laugh!”
“Janey, if Jupiter girl could live inside you -- would you want that?”
Lenore stood up because this conversation was making no sense and she had a mind to close it down, but she needed to get closer to make sure she was hearing it correctly.
Janey plowed on with her answer, “Yes! We want a boyfriend. We want an office truck. We want to make a purple stoplight and eat big grasshoppers with chocolate. I can share. We can run. Momma is busy.”
Kelly persisted, “If you choose Jupiter girl, she could die. You could die. If you don’t choose Jupiter girl, you will not talk to her again, but you both stay the same.”
“What am I choosing,” asked Janey simply?
“Do you want Jupiter girl inside you...”
“Yes,” Janey interjected.
“Even if you might die or she might die?” Kelly continued.
“My goldfish died from food. I want Jupiter girl.”
Kelly was determined to finish and kept speaking, “Or do you want to stay the way you are right now and never visit Jupiter girl again?”
Janey yelled, “I want to be a dragonfly. I want Jupiter girl. I can’t do anything!!! Kelly, you’re mean. I have to wear the blue shirt. Jupiter girl doesn’t have to wear clothes.” Janey lapsed into a full-fledged tantrum, even pounding the table which was a scary thing given that she was a strong woman.
Kelly spoke out loud, “Sweet Jesus what do we do now?”
Horton had returned to the communications bay while Makena was still resting and started working at a blinding pace. He had fully powered up the remaining subsystems, making numerous preparations, preliminary scans, and contingency programs. By the time Makena woke, Horton had the relevant components ready to go, briefing her that the prognosis was good if she wanted to proceed. For Horton, this was clearly a good bet for all involved. His soul searching had only taken 350 microseconds... yesterday.
Makena asked Horton, “So, if I go through with this, what about you?”
“I will likely be consumed in the nova,” he said quietly.
She merely nodded. As she was observing the preparations he had been making she understood that she had no chance of making this happen on her own.
Some time had passed, though Makena and Horton continued listening in on both Kelly and Janey. The result of all this preparation was that when Janey made her impassioned plea devolving into tears, Makena punched the failsafe.
Enroute to her wailing child, Lenore also screamed incoherently as things began to happen all at once. Unconscious, Janey collapsed to the ground while something flashed brilliantly in the sunlight near her left wrist. Dazed, Kelly and Allen both staggered at the same moment.
Jurgen was able to catch Janey’s head before impact and then gently straightened out her body, pancakes forgotten. Lenore’s tears began to flow as she reached Janey’s side to check her temperature, determining that Janey was a bit warm.
Kelly, disoriented, was already kneeling near Janey, while Allen pulled himself together to arrive about ten steps after Lenore.
Carol hadn’t seen this much confusion since receiving fire in a combat mission. Subconsciously, she started checking the perimeter, but couldn’t find anyone with an RPG or a machine gun which caused her to laugh.
After checking her daughter, Lenore looked over at Kelly and exploded, “Why did you torment my child? What is wrong with you?”
Kelly answered. “I asked Janey if she wanted help. It could be a miracle. I am not selling anything.”
Lenore looked at Kelly a good long while before saying, “If she wakes up! This is bullshit, you’re just encouraging nonsense. You and your husband are over the line. I don’t know what happened when y’all fell, but something is wrong and you know it. We’re done.” Ignoring Kelly, Lenore turned her attention back to Janey.
Kelly expelled extra hot air, staring out into the middle distance.
Luckily, after about 90 seconds, Janey sat up which stopped everything. When folks gave her room, Janey stood, hugging Lenore whispering, “I’m fine Mom.”
Lenore sighed, and then let Janey go.
Janey immediately turned to help Jurgen up, saying, “Thanks for the help. The pancakes are burning! Can we start some new ones?”
Allen collected Kelly in a quiet embrace, pulling her back to the table with Carol and making sure that Kelly had a sliced apple. After the fuss had completely died down, he went over to Janey with an empty plate.
As he was approaching, he noticed Janey wearing a bracelet he hadn’t seen before made of crystals and dark metal which still glinted. He asked her, “Janey, what’s the bracelet?”
“Oh,” she answered, “That’s Horton. He wants to know when we’ll get WIFI. I told him a few days... Would you like some bunny pancakes? I want to finish up here and go climb that rock. It looks really cool up there! Y’all want to come?”
Bio: Don Westlight is a Technology Manager and occasional public speaker specializing in network communications and economic development. An avid bibliophile and Type A person, Don has been writing fiction for personal entertainment these past few years and looks forward to publishing more often. He lives in Portland Oregon with his family. He can be reached at don.westlight@gmail.com