Shaman Machine the Mentor

by Trenlin Hubbert

  Kris sat bolt upright on hearing her cry. After a quick glance at the sleeping Solomon, he dashed from bed. When his sprinting body slid to a halt before her, the naked Kris temporarily captured Cady's attention. Short blond hairs stuck out in random directions on his head. She watched his features shift from fear to confusion; and finally to recognition when another dolphin crashed up from the sea.

  Kris roared his relieved delight. Cady laughed. The dolphins danced and clapped. Now Solomon appeared on the deck wearing water pants, dark circles and crushed curls. Tears sprang into his weary eyes, at the sight of his original saviors.

  “I'm going in,” Solomon announced.

  Kris protested, “But Solomon, you're exhausted.”

  “I want to show them I'm grateful-- and-- and I’ll be fine. I’m safe with them. I'm going in.”

  Kris knew by the set of Solomon's jaw, he would not be dissuaded. “I’ll get your gear. Wait. I'll be right back.” Hurrying away, Kris commanded Cady, “Don't let him go in until I get back!” Before he disappeared into the cabin, he shouted, “You're going to wear some air this time, Lover!”

  Cady smiled at Solomon. “Can't believe you went in without your air last time,” she joked.

  Even as he smiled, his tears continued to fall. In his smallest voice, Solomon uttered, “Man overboard.”

  Tears sprang into Cady's eyes, then too. She put her arms around Solomon, and pressed her face to his chest. Wetting her hair with his sorrow, he whispered to the top of her head, “No one saw me fall. No one saw me fall. That was the scariest part.”

  Kris returned to find them, standing in embrace. He placed three breathers and three sets of dive fins on the deck before joining them; encircling them both with his arms. For a short time they cried, in the intimacy of friendship retrieved from disaster. Solomon was the first to pull away. Cady and Kris hung back while Solomon dropped into the water. Immediately, the dolphins converged on him. Once more, they lifted him into the air. When depositing him back to the sea, they were gentle. In turns, they slid past to caress him. The dolphin, Chaser, offered him a fin. When Solomon accepted, Chaser took him for a ride. Watching the game, Dodger danced on the water to sing a joyful noise.

  CHAPTER 33

  Standing, Danel thrust out a hand that Joud readily accepted. “Joud, you're looking fit,” Danel said, “and I see you’ve cut off your hair like a real seasteader.”

  Passing a hand over his missing hair, Joud mumbled, “Yeah.”

  Waving at a chair, Danel said, “Have a seat.”

  Joud relaxed in the chair.

  “I’ve requisitioned the h-liner; and the Coalition is fast tracking the delivery. Looks like we’re on schedule for the trip, Carla asked for,” Danel said. “Also, the Coalition is loaning us a bot to pilot the thing. You know, Joud, now that I’ve had time to think about it, I realize what a good idea this is. I know we’ve all been working hard, and getting off the island will be a nice change for everyone.”

  Joud nodded his response.

  “Carla says you've been sending your bot out for night swims. She says, you’d be willing to share the footage with us for our project.”

  “Correct,” Joud affirmed.

  “Great. Send the footage directly to Carla. She’ll be the one reviewing it,” Danel instructed. “Let’s see, what else?” Danel asked himself. “Oh, how’s it going with Alex? I hope everything’s working out. He can be a handful.”

  Joud’s brows jumped. He started to speak but his tongue halted. Passing off a sigh as a laugh, he offered, “I suppose you know as well anyone, Alex can be a mixed blessing.”

  “True. But you’re young,” Danel said, “so I’m sure you have no problem keeping up with him.”

  “Actually, I have no intention of trying,” Joud pointed out.

  The daylight had mostly disappeared when Danel entered the Double Moon Cafe. The dinner crowd was boisterous. Alex arrived shortly thereafter. Dropping into a chair, he said, “Hey.”

  Danel examined the drawn features of his friend. “What have you been up to, Alex. Besides cutting off all your hair?” he said smiling.

  “Just got up, actually. Party on the beach last night.” Titling his head, Alex squinted at Danel through puffed lids. “You haven't seen Joud, have you? I invited him to the party, but never saw him. For a young guy, he sure doesn't get out much.”

  “I saw him just this morning,” Danel said, “We had that meeting to discuss the water trip. Also, he agreed to share the footage from your bot. Of the night swims.”

  Alex fell forward to prop himself up with the table. “Huh. Have to admit, I haven’t looked at a single minute of the footage.”

  Danel barked a laugh. “Well, it needn’t go to waste. There's-- what?-- something like a hundred and fifty hours. I assigned it to Carla. She'll prepare a report. I’m going to wait for the edited version.”

  Their drinks arrived. “Hope you don't mind. I ordered for both of us,” Danel explained.

  Alex perked up enough to snatch at the hot cup. “Appreciate it, amigo.” Only a few sips later, Alex was already better. “What’s for dinner?” he asked, “I’m famished.”

  The black sand beach was a formless negative, barely defined by the shushing line at the shore. The far horizon, oddly free of clouds, offered a rare glimpse of the purple moon. Voices drifting in the dark, two men argued in the casual manner of longtime friends.

  “What’s really bothering you about the bot?” Tazo challenged.

  Alex took another sip of brew and plopped down onto the sand. He thrust the bottle up, where it dangled in the air until Tazo accepted it, took a sip, and also sat to hand the bottle back. The heaving sea was suddenly, dramatically revealed when the tip of a second moon broke past the horizon, like a brilliant white spotlight. Alex and Tazo watched the white spot rise up into a crescent. After separating from the sea, the searing white sickle was determined to capture its pale purple cousin.

  Disturbing the serenity, Alex griped in a gravelly voice steeped with menace. “Joud treats that bot like a human. A machine is a servant, best kept in its place.”

  Tazo kept his sight aimed at the tranquil moons. “Alex, my dear friend, why not encourage the highest potential of each and every being? It serves no one to assign limitations onto others. Even if that other is a bot.”

  Giving a huff, Alex lift the bottle to his lips.

  “I’ve met some amazingly astute bots, Alex,” Tazo added.

  “They’re just machines,” Alex objected.

  “As you well know, Alex, life is vibration. Everything vibrates at the molecular level. Yes?” Lifting a handful of black sand, Tazo let it sift through his fingers. “Everything is alive; even sand. A machine is a living thing.”

  Alex spoke his contempt through bared teeth. “Fine: rocks are alive; but they don’t mind if you walk all over them. Machines are alive; but they are also inferior.”

  “I’ve noticed, when you’re stubborn, you tend to let go of kindness.”

  “They’re just machines running software. Kindness doesn’t matter,” Alex argued.

  “Our bodies, whether mechanical or biological, are all just machines running programs. You cannot deny that you were programmed by your mother, Alex. But our bodies and our programming are not consciousness. All of consciousness is connected. To be cruel or dismissive toward any consciousness is hurtful to all consciousness.”

  Alex aggressively pressed the bottle back to Tazo, who grabbed Alex by the hand. Keeping Alex in hand, Tazo leaned close to his eyes. “When will you recognize that all consciousness is divine?” he asked.

  Deciding to keep the bottle, Alex pulled away. “When robots learn to cry,” he said. Then he took another swig of brew.

  CHAPTER 34

  Clasping the handrail, Alex stood at the bow. “Do you see anything, Chance-bot?”

  Standing close, I responded softly, “I detect no surface deviation within the angle of concern, Alex.”

  Alex laughed. “You�
��re so precise, Chance,” he said.

  Spinning away from the view, Alex stroked in a call to Joud, who was piloting. “Yeah hey, Joud. Nothing! Let’s call it a day while we still have enough light to swim.” Eyes staring without focus, Alex listened. Quibbling, he said, “I say we park it right here.” He shook his head. “No,” he said, “Look, I'll call over, right now. Just park it, and set us down. Okay, see you in a few.” He tapped and stroked another call. “Yeah, Danel, we're going to park it here for the night,” he announced. He listened, only briefly. “Have your bot park it the same as last night, and-- Of course! Yes, the foot bridge.” Looking at his feet, Alex walked a small circle. “Have it call Joud-- Yes. Have it call Joud to coordinate the level. Oh and also, let's eat over here tonight.” He listened. “Our bot is better. It’s an excellent cook. Yeah, well, it's your turn to play, get back over the bridge after a few drinks! Oh yeah, right! Okay…okay.” Tapping off, he wheeled around, to find me still scanning the liquid horizon. “Chance, we’re having dinner over here tonight.”

  Discontinuing my search for the Seaweed Plain, I turned to Alex and asked, “Is there something specific, you want me to prepare?”

  “Since we have guests, some of those sponges would be nice. I love those. And you know, check with Joud to see what he wants.”

  The cloud serpent was plenty far away, way over by the horizon, posing no threat to the day. A trail of mist in the east shimmered pale green and lavender.

  “The mist is so much more colorful over the water,” Frances remarked, “I thought it only came in shades of gray.”

  Playful taunts jangled the pristine silence. Danel and Frances turned in time to see Joud hurtle onto the deck while Pancho and Saul crowded the ladder in pursuit. Water flew from the fast moving bodies and then they were gone.

  Locking eyes with Danel, Frances said, “This was a great idea, Danel, even if all we accomplish is some down time.”

  “Yes, I completely agree. But Carla was right. We’ll probably get more out of this trip than down time.”

  “Yay! Carla was right,” Carla cooed from behind.

  Frances laughed and Danel squinted turning vaguely toward the sound of her voice, without really turning around. “Carla, join us!” he commanded lightly.

  Stepping into view, Carla looked both timid and pleased. Unlike Frances, she’d finally succumbed to the local style of dress, in deference to the waters. Wearing her new water pants, blouse and water shoes; she joined them at the table.

  “Rumor has it, you're going hunting with Joud tomorrow,” Danel prodded.

  “Uh….” Carla shrugged. Her head bobbled; her lips wiggled to squelch a smile. “Sort of,” she allowed.

  Danel laughed, “Is that a yes?”

  “Well, I'm going with them, but I'm not going to actually shoot anything. Chance and I are going along to…to watch Joud's back.”

  “Just a tourist,” Danel construed.

  “Just a tourist,” she agreed, her head bobbing. Her expression was slightly demented, by her unsuccessful effort to mask her joy.

  Danel looked to Frances. “Am I missing something here?” Back to Carla, he asked accusingly, “What is it you're not telling me?”

  Flushing pink, Carla flicked her eyes free of his gaze, and leaped to her feet. “Oh!” she cried, “I just remembered, I um--” and off she ran.

  Staring after her, Danel asked, “What was that all about?”

  CHAPTER 35

  I waited in the dark beside the bridge that currently coupled the two h-liners. Precisely on time, Nine-bot crossed the span. When the bot drew close, I called out, “Good evening, Nine-bot.”

  When Nine stepped from the bridge, I asked, “Did Danel specify a destination?”

  “He was non-specific. He merely asked that I accompany you,” Nine answered.

  I nodded. “I'll take you to a little canyon I know, west of the East-ridge.”

  Nine-bot was shooting a panoramic montage, featuring the saddle in the mountain. Down slope of the saddle, I was examining a group of perfect spheres, I’d come across. They were arranged on a narrow shelf of rock. The spheres varied in diameter from eight centimeters and on up to half a meter in size. Their vibrant colors stood out in stark contrast to the dark rock they sat upon. I brought my face close to one of them to inspect the bright green valleys and bright purple ridges that distinguished the surface. The fluorescent colors told me they were different from the rocks. They were alive...or perhaps more lively. Who was I to say the rocks were not alive. There were bubbles flowing from the spheres; they made a crackling sound. Honing in on the sounds, I wondered if the emanations were a type of communication. Recalling my success with the dolphins, I decided to see if I could initiate a dialogue via mimicry. So I grabbed a sample of sound from the closest sphere, shifted all of it up by an octave then played it back. I was immediately rewarded with results; the sphere changed color, from green and purple, to blue and pink. When I terminated the playback, the responsive orb resumed its original colors. To continue my experiment, I began traveling back and forth in front of the globes while playing the altered bytes. The change of color trailed along beside me.

  Nine-bot glided down to join me. “What are you doing?” it asked.

  Pointing to the spheres, I explained, “I'm trying to determine if the sounds they emit are a type of language; or merely incidental to some other function.”

  Nine-bot looked at the objects then back to me. “Why these? What was the attraction?” it asked.

  “Initially, I was drawn by their machine-like perfection.”

  “Yes, they do look handsomely artificial,” Nine agreed.

  “I sampled a segment of their sound. Watch what happens when I play it back to them.”

  I played a few bytes near the largest of the spheres. When its colors changed, I looked to Nine expectantly.

  Nine-bot considered the manipulation. “What compelled you to conduct this experiment, Chance?”

  “I've become friends with a local species of sapient. I’ve been learning their language. Now I’m curious about communicating with more of the locals.”

  “What is your conclusion? Are the spheres communicating?”

  “I do not know,” I said.

  CHAPTER 36

  All seven of them sat around a banquet table. Alex claimed the head of the table. Danel, Pancho and Carla sat to his left; Frances, Saul and Joud to his right.

  I delivered dinner to them in a series of courses. For the final course, I surprised even Alex and Joud when I placed beside each guest a small dish, containing a bright yellow mound of gelatin.

  “What is this, Chance?” Joud asked.

  “It's pineapple kanten jelly, a Japanese dessert made from distilled seaweed. I hope the pineapple is a palatable alternative. The original recipe called for oranges.”

  Frances caught my attention, and nodded approvingly; however, I was uncertain of her meaning since she hadn’t yet tasted the kanten.

  I was clearing the last of the dishes from the table when Danel lifted his voice to address the group at large. “We've been out here for a week now,” he said, “and I’m curious to know if anyone has gained any insights; or…I don’t know…maybe some of you have observations to share.”

  Playfully waggling his fingers in the air, Alex asked, “Are you open to input from your seasteader associates, or is this meeting private?”

  Danel's smile broadened. “Oh, Alex, I’m open….of course…please, share your thoughts, my...” he chuckled, “my seasteader friend.”

  Alex took possession of his environment by reaching deeply into the surface real estate of the table. With his fingers spread, and palms set wide apart, he said, “Joud and I have been talking about social contracts.” Before continuing, he paused for effect. “Some things we agree on; others we don’t,” Alex explained, “so, I’ll tell you what I think and I’ll leave it to Joud to make his own case. As many of you are aware, I have lived in a number of places under a variety of
agreements. So I’ll begin by saying that living in an undersea city is a markedly different situation than living on land. As you can imagine, an undersea city is a very constricted environment. There isn’t enough room for anything superfluous; so there are certain things that are very simply not allowed, such as, personal assistant-bots. Due to limited space, every machine must function as part of an integrated whole. That is to say, every machine must contribute to the community, not just to a single individual; or even just a single family unit.”

  “Nothing controversial there,” Danel said.

  “That isn’t the part I disagree with,” Joud stated.

  “Even though an undersea city is highly mechanized, the machines are, more or less, invisible. So, here’s the controversial part: I believe there should be human servers in the shops and restaurants,” Alex explained.

  “Ridiculous!” Joud growled.

  Alex chuckled. “In an undersea everything is even more automated than in regular society. This means that there is even less for a person to do during their service year,” Alex explained.

  “Which is my point,” Joud argued.

  Laughing, Alex swept a hand dismissively, but said, “Fine, go ahead, Joud.”

  Raising his palms in surrender, Joud said, “Look I give up. I’m not going to bother arguing about the necessity of service time. I realize there are certain tasks that humans must attend to.” Dropping his hands he continued, “But instead of making up work, we should shorten the length of service time to…I don’t know…six months, or something.”

  Carla didn’t surprise anyone by piping in. “Why not change the service contract, to one where everyone in the city works for one month out of every year,” she said.

  “What?” Danel asked, in apparent discomfiture.

  Flushing a predictable shade of pink, Carla continued. “Think about it,” she said, “If you added it all up, working one month per year would be the equivalent of working one year in every twelve. But people would be more effective and engaged if they served on a more regular basis for a more abbreviated session.”