Authors: Richard Gohl
The Weapon
DESPITE FULLY UTILIZING his personal facilities—bathing, external networking, mind-washing and physical strengthening unit—Shane still had trouble sleeping that night. He thought about visiting Ryan and Alia, but was worried that Ryan might see through to what was worrying him.
He and Ryan had communicated earlier in the day. The boy seemed genuinely happy—but then, Ryan had turned out to be a social child and, surrounded by the air of positivity present among the real people, he was enjoying other children and adults alike. He had never been the type of child to complain or to ask for things he couldn’t have.
At midnight Shane went back up to the Service deck—he was allowed past a number of guards at various stations, and finally his iris was scanned and he entered the Service level.
None of the officials were sleeping. Magellan was performing a time scan, looking eight days into the past to where the last known position of Laos, Tokyo, or Seoul fleets had been recorded. The telescope was so powerful that it could lock in on a distant position, and the lens could perform a reverse automatic focus. It would reverse zoom and then lock and focus on any object not in an orbit. The chance of finding them this way was remote, but worth trying. It was like a night search for a small boat on the ocean, using a flashlight that could shine for a thousand miles.
Jeffery was in the adjacent lab. Using a big screen he was watching himself perform some intricate operation using micro-gloves to manipulate the genetic material of some kind of cell. Pato was in the same lab but just sitting, possibly using the network—Shane couldn’t tell.
Shane approached Magellan’s doorway. “Don’t you ever sleep?” asked Shane. “No, actually.”
“That explains a lot. Maybe you should try it sometime.” Magellan replied: “You’re still worried about the landing?”
“After all those years of Telesync you found out nothing more than that? Tell me the rest,” said Shane.
“Okay,” said Magellan, the other two Service officials turned and looked. Magellan signaled to Pato and Jeffery with thumb and third finger, indicating to turn on their ETP. They knew what he was going to say.
There is life down there—we had thousands of images come back. Six or so photos showed creatures—a group of three, followed by a another of twelve. And a later image of the same location showed them all to be gone. That’s all we know. They look to be wild animals similar in type to those that used to roam the Earth thousands of years ago.
Shane:
Thank you. Wild creatures? Like wolves or…?
Magellan:
Clarity not sufficient to tell. They were hunched over walking on four legs.
An image appeared in Shane’s field of vision. He saw a green hillside, ancient Earth, he thought. As he studied the picture he noticed three small shapes in the bottom right corner—possibly in motion, walking forward; it was hard to tell. A second image showed the same location but without the hunched over, dark shapes. A third photo showed a group of twelve. Clearly the same type of animal—dark grey, some more a dark brown in color. Shane guessed they looked wolfish—but their legs were thicker, and their heads were not elongated, but more spherical in shape. The pictures were too grainy to see much more detail. Except that it was obvious that the animal slightly in front of the rest was standing on two legs.
Shane:
Aliens?
Pato:
Obviously.
Magellan:
But what you see there is all we know about them. They might actually just be out walking but normally drive vehicles and live in cities.
Shane:
You saw cities?
Magellan:
No. We saw grassland, forest, water—possibly fresh, possibly not…
Pato:
The point is, we just don’t know.
Sensing Shane’s feeling of betrayal, Jeffery added:
So that is why we have a defense system prepared. It is silent, it is directional, and it is very clean.
Pato:
It’ would have revolutionized conflict on Earth. We were given the formula just before we left. Santiago Service developed a whole new…
Magellan:
It’s very dangerous. We haven’t tested it, in the field… so to speak.
Pato:
But they did—it’s so simple…
Magellan
: … So destructive.
Shane was fascinated by weapons. He couldn’t help asking,
How does it work?
Jeffery was amused
: Oh no, this one’s strictly need-to-know.
Shane’s disapproval was felt by all.
Jeffery:
It’s a means of backup. It destroys axon nerve fibre. Effective on anything evolved enough to have axon nerve fibre. Aggression and violence have a marked resonance. Its particular is picked up though a scanner, which then activates the frequency.
Pato:
Any creature with an intention to kill…
Shane:
isn’t that suicide? You yourself have an intention to kill! Can’t you just warn, threaten, and give us enough time to just run away?
Jeffery:
Your pacifism is misguided. At no time in history has a population moved in on foreign ground with a handshake and a smile.
Magellan
: It can be set to just pulse and paralyze—impulses which scramble synaptic messages. Like a stun gun.
The four men moved into the central area of the Service deck, gravitating toward the front window of the ship. They all looked forward out into space.
Magellan:
So Shane, now you know everything and you know the people better than we do. What do we tell them?
Shane:
How long until we get there?
Magellan:
At this rate, fourteen months.
Shane:
Over a year! You guys could build your own planet by that time… Jeffery: Someone’s already done that for us—two perfect planets. Magellan: So what do we tell them?
Shane:
I’ll go down, as captain, as a leader, but you must show me the weapon.
Shane inspired confidence in the Service officials. In regard to the Subs, he could do things and go places which were, to them, a mystery. They could never understand how Subs lived or what they thought—they didn’t even understand how Napeans lived their lives. It had never been their concern. It was because of this that their language of governance revolved around the pleasure principle for Napeans and threat management for Subs.
Shane wondered how the aliens would respond.
The Tooth
IT WAS CLEAR to Alia, Madi, and the medico Sylvana that Ryan was becoming more real than Napean, but that he was benefitting from cell renewal downloads every month. He was eating regularly, if only in small quantities; he was effectively both real and Napean.
He had sustained a growth spurt but his previous downhill slide towards tall Asian male had slowed and it seemed some of his original looks were becoming more prevalent.
Five of them sat in Alia’s room.
“Dad, you must eat too. Here, try this apple.”
“I can’t swallow—I tried,” said Shane. “Tried what?”
“I tried to swallow some water a few weeks back.”
“What happened?” asked Ryan.
“It wouldn’t go down.”
“I had to try a few times before anything went down,” said Ryan. “The more you try the easier it gets each time. I can nearly eat anything now.”
“I know you can…” said Shane. “I’m stronger too.”
“I know you are…”
“Here you go, then.” Ryan handed the apple to his dad. Shane looked at it, rubbed it up and down on his uniform a few times. Then, slowly, he brought the apple up to his mouth and “scrunch!” He took a bite.
“Well done, Dad! You did it!” Ryan yelled.
“Ryan, shhh!” said Madi. “Your dad’s not even s’posed to be in here!”
“It’s okay,” he said, chewing. “Two guards are…wait,” he said, putting his finger in his mouth. “What the f—?.” He pulled out one of his lower teeth. It had cracked off on the apple.
“Oh no! Dad!” said Ryan, concerned. “Oh no!” echoed Sylvana, smiling. “Whoops,” said Madi.
“Maybe your teeth aren’t used to it,” said Alia.
“Thanks for that free appraisal, Doctor Obvious. Do you do general check-ups as well?” laughed Madi.
“Shut up!” said Alia. “Shane, are you okay?”
“It’s fine…” said Shane, still shocked. “It’s been a while since I used them…”
“Quick, grab a glass of beer to put it in,” said Madi.
“You don’t put it in beer, you moron!” said Sylvana. “You’ll damage the nerves.”
“You must put it in something,” said Alia, “so that…”
“Milk,” said Sylvana. “Until we get it fitted in properly.” Shane was shrugging his shoulders and shaking his head slightly.
“No, don’t worry,” he said. “A new one will grow back. I’ve done it before.”
“Grow back? How?” said Sylvana.
“When did you try and eat before?” said Ryan.
“No. I’ve had my teeth knocked out a few times—by real people, mainly; once by another guard. I don’t know—it’s just technology. You bust something and it fixes itself or if it’s seriously busted, you can get a new one. Teeth grow back.”
“I know. Mine grow back,” said Ryan. “The new ones are even better than the old ones!”
“Well that’s different—they’re your baby teeth. I’m talking about adult teeth.”
“So what happens?” asked Sylvana.
“I’m not an expert, but there are different types of cells that are carried to different locations for healing. We have nano cells, which can sense something wrong with the integrity of the frame. For a tooth, unipotent cells are directed to the gum and a new version of what is supposed to be there is grown. It makes new teeth.”
“How long will that take?” said Madi.
“About three weeks.”
“Here, Dad. I’ve chopped it up small for you—try a small piece.”
“You are relentless!” He took a small piece of apple and carefully started chewing. “Check those guards again,” said Alia.
As part of his new Iris network, he had a complete map of the ship and comrade radar. “Two guards are outside the Garden 11 bar. We’re fine.”
“How did you get Ryan to become a Napean?” asked Sylvana.
“He had an initial large dose of N.E.T., and then regular transfusions from me when he was small. That’s all you have to do.”
“Can you do it with an adult?” asked Alia. “Yes, but it takes a lot longer.”
“Fascinating,” said Sylvana.
“Dad, are you going to come back tomorrow?” asked Ryan. “If I may.” Shane looked at Madi and then to Alia.
“It’s fine with me,” said Madi. “We’ll have something nice and soft for you to eat.”
“All right, then,” said Shane. He kissed a finger and touched Ryan’s head. “Goodnight.” As Shane walked out, Madi said to Ryan, “Bedtime.”
“I love these beds,” he said, jumping onto his bunk. “Goodnight.” He pushed a small button near his overhead light switch and a faint shimmering luminescence shrouded the length of his bed, blocking noise and light. He soon fell asleep.
“Are you okay?” said Madi to Alia. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”
“You just seem a little… slow, distracted… or something.”
“Oh,” Alia said vaguely. “I just need a good…” Alia’s voice trailed off slightly. “You need a good night’s sleep, is what you’re trying to say…” Madi smiled. “I need a good night’s sleep,” agreed Alia. “I don’t think I’ve had one in years.”
“I think you do too,” said Madi, smiling still.
“We all do,” said Sylvana and laughed.
The Sickness
SHANE AND CHARLES worked together regularly and they often talked privately about Shane’s conversations with J, P, and M. These conversations were valuable to Shane because Charles was naturally a “moderate,” and advocated deliberation and caution before action.
So despite Shane’s new intimacy with Madi and Alia and the small meals they were regularly preparing for him, he had not passed on what he had learned about the settlement plans; why worry them when he was going to change those plans anyway? He was pretty sure how they would react if they found out they were scheduled to be used as guinea pigs on the new planet.
Charles knew about Shane’s eating, and he had been kept up to date on Shane’s progress. Ryan, of course, had been the real pioneer, and continued healthy. But as Charles had been keen to point out, Shane had been a Napean for a very long time; his body may not be able to revert back to the ancient means of nutrition. However, even Charles had noticed that Shane had begun to revert back to an older version of his physical self. Only small things were noticeable: a lightening of the hair and eye color, the shape of the nose. Even his bones had started remembering the old code—from his shoulders to his chin, there were slight changes.
The two Napean guards were working together. They had finished supervising a “dump run”—everybody now knew, of course, that such supervision was merely a formality, but likewise everyone had a role, and those roles seemed to work so were maintained.
Unrecyclable waste was dumped every fifty hours. Various large mobile containers had to be moved and attached to evacuation vents, and unwanted material was jettisoned.
As for real workers, three men and a woman maneuvered a waste vat into position,
Charles climbed the three steps up to the control panel on the wall, which activated the suction facility. But he didn’t get that far. As he leaned into the step his whole body toppled forward; it was if his legs and arms had stiffened. It was all he could do to turn his head as the side of his face grazed across the top step. Shane leapt forward in an attempt to catch him but it all happened too quickly.
The workers stopped what they were doing. Several of them moved over to help Charles regain his feet but for a few seconds he couldn’t move. Shane pulled on his arm. “Charles! You okay? C’mon, let’s get you up again…” But Charles just lay there staring down into the floor.
“He’s out cold,” said one of the Subs.
“Charles!” said Shane again. Then he blinked, started breathing, and he was back. He struggled to stand up and said, “Sorry. I just passed out… I don’t know what happened...”
“It’s fine, mate. You slipped, that’s all,” said Shane. “Okay. Let’s get these containers emptied out, and then we can all get out of here!”
Then it started to happen. At first there were a few other small accidents. One guard couldn’t get off an escalator and caused a mass pile-up as others came up behind him and simply toppled over him, adding to the chaos. Napeans in general seemed slow, inattentive—more than usually so. Previous on-board routines, announcements for high-speed travel and activity rosters, were not being made.
One morning many Napeans simply didn’t make it out of bed. Shane went across to Charles’ room. He was half out of bed—his legs were on the ground, but he was in a squat position. His head was sort of lolling to one side. He was clearly very ill.
Shane ran in to help him back into bed.
“No, no… no… I’m fine. Just so tired,” he stammered. “Can you put in a good word, put in an apology for me? I can’t make it today.”
“I will. Just get into bed. You’re going to be fine.”
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Very tired…very tired…” murmured Charles. “Don’t worry. You’re not the only one—we’ve been hit with some kind of virus.”
As Shane rushed to the stern of the ship he passed down empty Napean corridors before coming to the level 2 gateway to the bow of the ship. As he passed through this door he panicked. Back here too it was quiet. All he could think was that Ryan was sick. He rushed to room 46, scanned the door, and pushed it open.
Alia was standing there in her underwear. She inhaled sharply and looked shocked as Shane barged in.
“Excuse you,” said Madi, her feet up on the chair, sipping a hot drink. “Hi!” said Alia. “I was just getting dressed…”
“I’m so sorry,” said Shane. Ryan was sitting up at the table, dressed and ready to go. “I just wanted to check if you were okay. A lot of people are sick…”
“Huh?” said Alia, pulling on some pants. “The Napeans—lots of them are sick…”
“What’s wrong with them?” asked Madi. “Some kind of virus. A paralysis.”
“Really? No, we’re fine down here.,” said Alia. “You seem okay…” Shane looked across and, through the curtain, saw Sylvana lying there. “What’s wrong with her?”
“Her?” said Madi. “She’s just lazy. Sylvana! Get up!” Sylvana groaned: “I am!”
“Are you okay, Dad?”
“I’m fine, buddy,” said Shane, walking across to him putting a hand on his head. “We’re both fine…” he said vaguely, thinking. “Have you seen anyone else this morning?”
“Yeah,” said Alia, “little Adey and Kez came in earlier to get Ryan—they were fine.”
“Okay. I’ll be back.” Shane walked from room to room checking as many Subs as he could. No one was ill.
He returned, knocked this time, and said to Madi and Alia: “There’ll be an announcement.
Try and keep everyone calm. It’ll be business as usual—just unsupervised. We can’t have panic.”
“Say it’s a Napean holiday or something…” said Alia “No one’s gonna buy that,” said Madi
“Just say,” said Alia, “Napeans are recharging or whatever you call it... special space requirement.”
“Hey,” said Madi, “perfect time to take over the ship!” she smiled. “Now that’s helpful,” said Alia, smiling.
”Yeah just stay calm,” said Shane in a cautionary tone, “or we may not have a ship.” Shane left room 46 and activated ETP as he passed through the level 2 gateway and
paced back to the outer bow levels, past quiet Napean cabins, and up to the Service quarters.
There were no guards at the usual check points on his way up to the Service deck. Shane scanned himself in. There were two Napeans lying in Jefferies lab and another
in Pato’s.
“Where… have…. you been?” said Jeffery. “You’re… not sick!” said Jeffery. His speech had slowed discernibly.
“Believe me I feel terrible,” replied Shane.
“I can hardly walk…. and there you are…… skipping up and down corridors.” Jeffery had several scanners running but was leaning back in his chair.
“I’ve been right through the ship,” said Shane. “Have you seen the condition that people are in? You’ve got to do something—let everyone know it’s under control, before something...”
“We could lockdown,” said Pato.
“Not lockdown.” answered Shane. “The ship needs to function. Let the Subs continue their work. They seem unaffected…”
“Unaffected?” said Jeffery.
“Make announcements: explain what’s happening; resume normality!” This was Pato’s area. Pato looked to Jeffery for confirmation. Jeffery closed his eyes and was clearly struggling to focus. Magellan said “just do it!” Pato shuffled off to the communication room.
“So what is it? What’s wrong with us?” asked Shane. Jeffery was still fading. Magellan was in a better state. He said, “Jeffery!”
He replied, “Excuse me..” and stumbled off into his lab. He sat on a stool with his elbows on the table rubbing his face, struggling to compose himself.
Magellan said, “We don’t know what’s wrong. Blood nutrient levels are fine. There seems to be a slight problem with viscosity. They’re going to send through an emergency refresher signal.”
Pato’s announcements travelled through the ship. Then a Napean message to use Telesync was announced.
“Our little machines, our little machines…’ Jeffery was shaking his head slowly, looking forlorn. “…the synthetic nanobots…are under some form of pressure…the organic ones are at 80 percent.”
“Is there some kind of gravitational change out there—have we come into the orbital sphere of another body?” asked Shane.
“That’s what we have been trying to establish… but there’s absolutely nothing out there,” said Magellan. “We’re on the outskirts of one if the largest known empty spaces in the universe. I’ve looked and looked. It’s something we’ve never seen before. Some other sort of invisible astrophysical… material—sludge, permeating the ship.”
“I thought we were protected from outside forces?” asked Shane “We are. From forces we understand.”
Napeans underwent Telesync—digital boost juice. A dose of refresher software was downloaded. But to everyone’s horror nothing changed; Napean energy levels remained at an all time low.
Jeffery and Pato had been screening their own blood samples all day. They could see the complete retardation of the nano-bots; the multitude of micro bodies seemed unable to release the minute traces of the chemical by which they were propelled and the delivery of which kept Napeans alive. The smallest machines on the ship, the generators of the Napean metabolism had stopped swimming.
Despite early disasters with remote delivery of refresher software, N.E.T. had been an extremely reliable therapy—until now. The Service officials had never seen or heard of anything like this problem, and they were running out of time.
Jeffery knew of an emergency technique that had worked in early trials of N.E.T.—a way of temporarily bypassing the therapy. He couldn’t remember it in practice, but Pato accessed historical records and found the reference they were looking for.
In early N.E.T. trials, a small group of students undergoing the radical new therapy had become comatose after repeated failures of the enzyme activation signal. Napeans didn’t have a blood type as such, so human blood could be used as an emergency substitute, keeping them alive until the problem was solved.
Shane did his best to appear tired and listless. He was now twice as strong as any of the other Napeans. It had not gone unnoticed. He was called up to the Service deck. Jeffery was in his lab still slumped back in his chair.
“It interests me that when everyone else falls, you remain standing,” said Jeffery. “Believe me, I’m only just staying upright. I use muscle electrodes, they…”
“If any of us are to ever get off this ship… I need blood. Wing…” said Jeffery. “Blood? Why?” interrupted Shane.
“A child would be best. There were a number of orphans. Bring me one of those.”
“You can’t use a child. Take an adult.”
“I don’t want adults here,” he snapped. Jeffery seemed paralyzed, groaning in an attempt to move his weight forward. He put his elbows on the desk and turned to look at Shane. His eyes were still remarkably active.
“There’ll be trouble if you start harming children. They’re already getting uneasy down there. I wouldn’t…” warned Shane.
“That’s enough! This voyage is over if we do not find a solution! Need I remind you that our information system depends on the Napean brain for processing… storage… ” Jeffery’s voice was breaking up with the effort of speaking as he began wiring himself up to the venous extractor.
Such arrogance and surety even when diminished,
thought Shane.
Jeffery sat, head resting back eyes shut as N.E.T. fluid began oozing from his arm in readiness for the transfusion. He seemed to lose consciousness.
Shane was running on pure instinct. Yes, he thought, Jeffery had saved many lives—but had also caused great suffering. The world would be better without the megalomania of Jeffery and Pato. But what of Magellan? He was faring better than the other two. Shane turned to leave. Magellan was standing in the doorway.
“You seem okay,” asked Shane.
“He’s right—we have maybe ten hours. Without the three of us, there is no access to the whole of the network. Without that, no one’s going anywhere.”
Shane had wanted them all dead many times—and here they were, dying, and he was looking at sacrificing an innocent child to save them. He checked the list. There were three children on board who had come as extras, who had been, for whatever reason, separated from their families.