by Scott Rhine
“What does this have to do with Sasha? Do you think you can do that for her?”
“Unlikely. Our minds are too different to enable Sasha to process in the human fashion. However, we have been experimenting with the nanocytes over the last few months. With Sasha’s assistance, we have been able to adapt much of the relevant technology, though not at the same level of precision or scale. The research has been quite exciting.”
“Get to the point.” Zane said
“Of course. We believe it may be possible to adapt the nanocyte interface, allowing the crew of the Moving Finger to achieve true consensus. It has been our goal since first encountering this technology.”
“Why would you want to do that?” Zane asked.
“Achieving consensus with beings unlike ourselves has always been our primary objective. Until now we have been forced to utilize verbal patterns and images to acquire some comprehension of other species. We hope that this technology will allow us to complete our objective. If it proves successful, we may return to our homeworld with the technology and our mission will be complete.”
“So you think that you can hook one of us up to Sasha and we can pull her out?”
“I volunteer.” Zane said.
“No chance, Pinocchio. You’re barely able to process your own traumas. I’ll do it.” Bella replied.
“Sasha’s mind has been augmented far beyond the normal human condition. A single human mind would be at a severe disadvantage and might become trapped as well. We know from experience that it takes many atomo to help another to process after a trauma. It seems likely that it would require a consensus of the entire Moving Finger organism to succeed.”
“You want to hook us all up at once?” Omar guessed. “Won’t that get confusing?”
“Having no experience with consensus, your minds would likely react poorly to such a joining. However, if we act as intermediary, there exists some possibility of success.”
“Some possibility? That doesn’t sound like a roaring endorsement.” Zane said.
“There is a significant chance that your minds are not capable of consensus and the experience may drive you all insane. The alternatives at present seem worse. It seems that you all have decided to sacrifice yourselves rather than give up Sasha. Either we remain with you and attempt this solution or leave and begin again with another crew. Our preference is to attempt consensus so that all goals may be achieved or all may be lost.”
“I didn’t think you gambled Pulan.”
“On the contrary, our existence as the limited aggregate Pulan was a gamble. We simply have no use for financial gain in the human sense. If successful, the knowledge we may gain of the human condition will be invaluable. The risk of our own existence is a small price to pay.”
“How long would it take you to set this up?” Omar asked.
“The preliminary work is already done. We should be ready before the replacement engine is fully installed.”
“Seeing that you both already volunteered and this is Pulan’s plan, I guess it’s up to me.” Omar stopped and looked at his crew. “We’ve come a long way. If today is our day to die, at least it’ll be together.”
“All for one.” Zane said. Omar raised an eyebrow. It seemed that while he was worrying about the fate of the galaxy, his crewman was learning to be human after all.
“And one for all.” Omar replied. “Pulan, begin your work. Everyone else, I suggest you make any final arrangements you wish. One way or another, we are leaving the Fleet. If you don’t mind, I have a few final goodbyes to make.”
They each retired to their respective quarters. Omar sat in the cockpit in silence for a long while. He wanted to call Veronika but after their heartfelt farewell it felt like it would be anticlimactic. There really was nothing else to say. This intermission after their final farewell felt odd and unwanted. After so many years, it seemed that he had finally run out of things to say to her.
In the end, Omar floated to his quarters and picked up his worn copy of the Rubaiyat. He had carried it for decades and could recite nearly every line word for word. He ran his fingers over the cover of the book and smiled wanly.
“I wouldn’t take back a line of it, even if I could.” He whispered to himself. He opened a comm. line and called a courier to the ship. Omar handed the young man the book with payment enough to ensure that it reached Veronica safely.
Omar felt suddenly naked as the courier left with the small packet. Then he shook his head and turned back to the ship. He spent the next few hours in quiet contemplation, considering the decisions in his life that had brought him to this place, waiting for an alien being to interface with his brain to save a young girl’s life while a madman with a warship stalked outside looking to destroy him. He was lost in reflection when Pulan came and notified him that he was ready.
Omar locked down the ship, informing the work crews outside that they should continue to install the star drive but keep their work limited to the exterior of the ship until notified otherwise.
He returned to the medbay where a strange sight awaited him. Pulan, who generally maintained a human form when interacting with humans, had given up that pretense. The majority of his atomo writhed at the end of the medical table, forming complex patterns around Sasha’s head. Three atomo arched out from this bulk toward three seats placed at the end of the table. Bella and Zane had already taken the seats at either side, leaving him the center seat.
“Come on in, Boss. Ready to go completely insane?” Zane said. A portion of Pulan formed a vague mouth and spoke.
“The crew determined that you should be first to attempt consensus. If we can successfully establish a rapport, we will then include the others one at a time before attempting to reach Sasha.”
“I understand.” Omar said, knowing full well he did not. He sat and watched as Pulan’s atomo reached out and enveloped the top of his head. He felt first the scratchy surface of the creature and then a tingling sensation spread across his scalp, likely the action of the nanocytes entering his skull.
Omar closed his eyes and tried to sense the other being. For long moments, there was nothing and Omar feared that all their fear had come to naught. Then a flash of something like light came into his eyes. He heard a low buzzing sound, like a thousand voices whispering in the distance. His mouth filled with the taste of fresh almonds, like the ones his father had brought home as a treat forever ago. Then the smell of fresh laundry filled his nostrils and he was again reminded of home, his original home so far away. He felt a comforting hand on his shoulder and started to turn toward it, sure that his father stood behind him.
His movements felt slow, as though he were under water. Before he could finish turning his mind flooded with memories, the sunsets on Travail, the smell of Veronika after they made love, the warm breeze on the night he met Annabella. Sour memories too, the crisp feel of an airlock against his cheek, the taste of iron as he contemplated the families who died at his hands, the searing pain in his heart, too new to comprehend, of losing Veronika forever.
Omar drowned in a thousand memories, unable focus on one for more than a moment. Hopelessness began to overtake him. How could he hope to save Sasha when he couldn’t even save himself? As he sank deeper into the quagmire of experiences, a dozen hands caught hold of his and hauled him upward. He felt the pressure lessen as though his head had broken free and he had taken a deep breath.
New memories began to filter in, mixing with his own, memories of being a part of something so much greater than himself, thoughts so complex that even in his memories they were beyond comprehension, the discovery of aliens so like himself but so different. These were true memories, as much a part of him as those of the dark skinned man who rose from poverty to roam the stars. He felt all of the memories merging, a blending of experiences that brought clarity and new understanding to both.
As his perspective grew to encompass all of those disparate memories, they experienced a feeling of elation. After so many years o
f searching, they had finally achieved consensus with an alien being. The joy at the joining replaced the sense of isolation which both new and old atomo had felt for so long. Omar reveled in the feeling for an eternal moment before deciding that the time was right to continue. They reached forward with a portion of themselves toward Bella, eager to add her experience to their own.
They found it easier to bring the large woman into the fold, their experience with the Omar atomo greatly facilitating the expanding consensus. Bella’s thoughts were clearer, crisper than Omar’s had been but there were so many more, decades of life to process and share. Omar remembered the intense desire for a new life aboard the Fleet, the strange and powerful love of Franklin and the quiet pain she felt every day of his absence. They wept anew for the loss and considered once more how tragic the lives of humans were, to come so close to consensus only to have it torn away by fate.
As their memories joined Omar felt some surprise at how many misconceptions they had about each other, how much of their lives had been hidden away. Once consensus was reached they contemplated how foolish they had been to hold so much back and marveled at how deep their love for each other truly was. With a chuckle, Omar reached for Zane’s mind.
So hollow, Omar thought in despair. Such a short life and so full of death, yet none of it had touched him. Zane, the soldier, so utterly alone in the universe. Omar feared the boy’s mind might be overwhelmed by consensus, much as immature atomo must remain apart during early development. Their fear evaporated as they began to sense the intense weal of strength inside the young man, his resolve and his need to overcome any obstacle. What he lacked in experience he made up for in determination. Indeed, his mind reached out and grasped theirs in an iron grip, demanding consensus. Omar felt the atomo find the force of emotions in the consensus like an explosion of color into a monochrome world. They greedily explored the vistas of the other atomo from this new perspective, finding joy and sorrow in the revelations.
Omar had just begun to turn their attention toward Sasha when they sensed another mind, hidden inside Zane. Finding the fragment of Franklin brought elation to the consensus. Much like the man had been, the fragment was small but not to be underestimated. More than all other atomo, this one brought understanding of Sasha. It understood both the great power she had been given and how she had used it to wall herself away. Omar tearfully brought it into consensus before turning once more to Sasha Fion-Hadi.
At first nothing, much as they had felt on previous attempts to interact with humans. Sasha’s mind rejected contact out of hand and Omar felt an impenetrable barrier rise up between them. The part of Omar which had once been Franklin understood those defenses, knew how to bypass them. If she had been actively fighting them, they would never have succeeded but the nanocytes responded to a voice it recognized as authority. Omar was able to convince the machines that intrusion was necessary and would not conflict with their duty to protect their host. They spun through a pinhole of access in the wall and came face to face with chaos itself.
Whatever Omar thought he would face once they entered Sasha’s mind, they were mistaken. As soon as they passed the barrier they were beset by a maelstrom of contradictory worldviews which crashed into each other, spawning new and increasingly aberrant ways of perceiving events.
Omar could tell that the poor girl’s ego had been shattered, pieces of her self flung to the far reaches of her mind. Armies of nanocytes tried in vain to unify her thoughts, a function they were not designed for. Childhood memories were stripped of meaning and context, shredded by the machines’ immutable logic. Her desires and fears, freed from the constraints of context, ruled petty worlds lacking rhyme or reason.
Omar drifted through the landscape of Sasha’s mind, trying to find an anchor point with which to unify her thoughts. They felt a voyeuristic thrill as they passed through salacious visions of Zane, his pale features brushed free of imperfections, his scar replaced by an unbroken scalp of dark hair blowing in an unseen wind. Other worlds resembled her homeworld of Lanis, Omar and Bella as replacement parents who chided her for not learning her lessons well enough.
They pressed onward, seeking. The visions turned darker, twisted but not unfair images of the Fleet’s long history of violence. In these a fully mature Sasha played the villain, commanding the Fleet as it fired on cities and burned planets to ash. Sasha’s features shifted, becoming hard and cold, almost metallic. Omar felt a twinge as he recognized Veronika’s features shining through the caricature, the imperious persona she had showed to all the world save only Omar.
As an answer, Omar attempted to project her other face to Sasha, the one which had inspired so much poetry. They tried to make the fragment understand that one face was no more true than the other, that man had always chosen many roles for itself, many ways to see the world.
The landscape shuddered as the conflicting image of Veronika flickered into existence, its creator angered by the intrusion. The imperious Sasha turned blood red eyes toward the consensus, seeing them for the first time. She raised her arms and the corpses of hundreds and thousands of soldiers began to fall from the sky above, their flesh rotting and pulling away from the bones. Omar recognized the uniforms as those of the dead men and women from the Sikorsky. More bodies, this time from a rebel camp, then the crisp and clean bodies from Unity and a final red tide of the dead each with Zane’s face staring at them with glazed eyes. The message needed no words. None among them had passed through the world without leaving a trail of the dead behind them. It was the one lesson which Sasha had been taught clearer than any other.
Omar shifted their projection from Veronika to Zane, his wound shining as it was healed by nanocytes, his life saved. The demonic Sasha’s features softened for a moment, her movement hesitant. Omar pressed their advantage, knowing how quickly it could disappear. First, they showed her a world ravaged by the Fleet, an image drawn from Omar’s first memories of the Fleet. Then they showed her Lanis, a world whose inhabitants had been spared by the subtle interventions of the Moving Finger. The landscape created by Sasha’s mind became fuzzy, uncertain.
Omar took control of the vision, altering it and showing a future where the ships of the Fleet acted as a force of goodwill in the galaxy, their power used to feed the poor, leaving behind worlds enriched by their passage instead of savaged by it. The illusory Sasha dissolved, taking its vision of the world with it.
Lying in its place was a crying girl, Sasha as she had no doubt looked before the Fleet came to Lanis. Omar reached out and cradled the girl in their arms, silently promising safety and security. The girl looked up through glassy eyes and turned to wrap her arms around the abstract complex of beings calling itself Omar.
Having found a center from which to work, Omar sent out atomo to act as emissaries in the far reaches of Sasha’s mindscape. Their offer of stability and sanctuary lured out the hidden fragments of her ego and they came forward, first in a trickle and then in a swarm of concepts and ideas. Past experiences were offered context and joined to the core fragment of Sasha. It was the work of a lifetime but Omar was patient, adapting techniques developed hundreds of years earlier by minds much greater than theirs.
Eventually Sasha’s core passed some boundary, a critical mass, and the landscape itself drew in on her, all becoming one, save only the beings which were Omar. She awoke then, not cured but no longer broken. With an outstretched hand, Omar invited her to join them in consensus. Hesitantly, Sasha accepted and her mind joined theirs.
Omar did not know how long they spent in consensus but in time he found himself returning to a singular being, discrete from the other atomo. It felt inaccurate to think of them as separate and in a sense he felt that might never be entirely true again. He opened his eyes and looked down at the young girl on the table. Sasha arched her head back toward him and their eyes met. Sasha smiled wanly before sinking back to the table with a relaxed sigh.
“Well damn, that was quite a trip.” Zane said at last, breaking the
silence in the room.
“Took the words right out of my mouth.” Bella agreed.
“Bella…” Zane frowned, his mouth trying to form an apology and failing.
“I understand, Zane. He didn’t want me to know. He was probably right to do so as well. He usually was.”
“I should have told you anyway. You loved him so much. It was wrong to hide anything of his from you. Kinda feels wrong to have hidden anything from any of you.” Zane sat back heavily, his face uncertain.
“Speaking of love,” Bella turned to Omar with a big grin on her face. “Veronika Kharzin? The Queen Bitch of the Sikorsky is your honey? Who would have thought she was capable of it?” Omar smiled lightly. No more secrets. He deflected answering Bella by turning his attention to Pulan. The creature had resumed a human shape.
“Pulan.” Omar started.
“Yes, Omar?” The creature’s voice no longer seemed as alien as it had before.
“Thank you. Not just for helping us save Sasha.” Omar wanted to say more but he lacked the words to express his thoughts accurately. Pulan seemed to guess at his meaning, a first for the alien who had so much trouble with human interactions.
“We understand and wish to thank you as well. For the first time, we understand humanity. We feel sorrow for the noble tragedy of your existence. So many thoughts unspoken. We had previously assumed mankind was a shallow species but the greater part of your minds and hearts is forever hidden from view.”
“Yeah, that about sums us up.” Bella said. “Each of us lives in isolation, hiding our pain, unaware of the secret pains others carry in their hearts.”
“Omar,” Zane sat up sharply, as though suddenly certain of something.
“Of course, Zane.” Omar knew the nature of Zane’s unasked question. During consensus Omar had felt how truly close his own checkered past was to the emptiness Zane felt every day. What had worked to save him could bring Zane some humanity, if not peace. “I’m sure we can find a geneticist before we depart.”
