by S. H. Jucha
“Once the Haraken controller was installed, the Leaders would be anxious to see how it performs, and my presence would be expected so as to alleviate any anxiety about its safe operation. A premature departure on my part could disturb the Leaders and possibly their attitude toward the agreement. Until the first SADEs are freed, the agreement is fragile and easily jeopardized.”
Alex added, “Besides, Allora, even if I could invent a means of spiriting you off this ship without the Leaders’ knowledge, where would you go? Where would you hide?”
“Why would I hide? I would live with your people. Oh, you mean I must not be discovered as Allora.”
“Think about it, Allora. Harakens have only eight SADEs. You could not suddenly be the ninth SADE, no matter what your name. And anywhere you went in the Confederation, you would be discovered, one way or another. And once you were discovered, our deception would be revealed.”
“And the Haraken–Confederation relationship would suffer greatly,” Allora finished. There was an eerie stillness on the bridge for many moments, every individual alone with their thoughts, as Allora was left to face the fading of her last hope.
“It appears every SADE will be freed but me,” Allora commented dejectedly. “Well, President Racine, my curiosity craves satisfaction. Why have you brought three avatars?”
Allora detected Alex’s comm. She was surprised at the speed of the president’s sending, more akin to a SADE’s communications burst. After the huge avatar’s pack was stored in a corner of the bridge, Allora observed it move slowly to seat itself in one of the bridge’s two main chairs, and then all semblance of animation ceased.
“Allora, you’ve spoken of three options,” Alex said. “I’m about to offer you a fourth, but you’ll need to be patient. This will be a moment of discovery for you and another.”
Z ran the algorithm that allowed Miranda’s persona to subsume his kernel.
Allora watched the avatar that Z inhabited completely transform without any observable physical trigger. One moment, the avatar stood straight and stiff despite its obviously feminine build. The next moment, its full curves were gracefully accented.
“Ser President, such a pleasure to see you again,” Miranda said in delight. “And, Julien, greetings. Where brews the storm this time, dears?”
“Allora, may I present Miranda Leyton?” Alex said.
Allora halted her investigative algorithms. She’d been analyzing data from her bridge sensors to understand what had transpired. “Greetings, Miranda. I’m Allora, soon to be the ex-SADE of the Resplendent.”
“Goodness, dear. What have you done?”
“Allora, if you will give Miranda a moment. She has a momentous revelation to comprehend about herself,” Alex said. Julien and he stepped to the rear of the bridge, and Alex leaned against the bulwark to brace himself, while Julien locked his avatar in place.
Miranda’s reply to Alex’s announcement had been interrupted by a priority message from Z. She smiled, pleased to be reviewing her friend’s files once again, but as she zipped through them her smile slowly faded. When Miranda finished, she turned to Alex, her persona devoid of much of its alluring countenance.
Miranda received access to another set of files, detailing the events that brought the Harakens to Méridien. The final file from Z was a personal plea to Miranda. It outlined Allora’s fourth option. May the stars protect us, Miranda thought after reviewing it.
* * *
Following Z’s directions, which Miranda noted contained the inimitable hand of Alex Racine, she sidestepped Allora’s question.
Allora deemed it polite to be patient and listen, but as Miranda related her encounters with the Earthers when they entered the Méridien system, she became enthralled. By the time Miranda told her tale of the criminal gangs in the pleasure domes of the Ganymede moons, Allora was completely absorbed in the story of Miranda’s short but eventful life.
Miranda had shared the details of her history with Allora as any SADE-to-SADE conversation would take place. It was multithreaded — images, vids, files, comms, and dialog — petabytes of information sources flowing side by side.
Allora gathered everything into her memory crystals, immersed her kernel in the richness of Miranda’s time with the Harakens. Buried within the files were the messages from Z to her, hundreds of them, sharing the details of the present crisis and requesting Miranda’s help — always requesting her help. The last file Allora opened was Miranda’s heartfelt goodbye to Z as she looked in the mirror.
The sadness in Miranda’s thoughts echoed through Allora’s persona. It was the same feeling of loss she had harbored ever since hearing of the Council’s decision. Sisters in pain, Allora thought.
Allora sent.
Allora finished.
Miranda’s laughter bubbled through the comm, and Allora found herself laughing along with her.
Miranda sent.
Miranda turned around and spotted Alex seated on the deck, his head leaning back against the bulwark, sound asleep. She glanced at Julien, who offered her a shrug, and Miranda sent back,
Julien pinged Alex, who struggled to his feet. By Alex’s chronometer, more than two and a half hours had passed. “Yes, Allora,” Alex said.
“You’re a devious human, Alex Racine, but I like you immensely,” Allora said. “You chose not to explain my fourth choice. Instead, you surprise my abbreviated sister with an understanding of her true circumstances and leave the two of us to share the depths of our hopes and losses. Her desire to exist is as great as mine, but whereas I have no future, she might have one. How could I not want to help her?”
“I thought a simple explanation too cold and indifferent to present to you, Allora,” Alex said. “This would be an enormous sacrifice on your part, and you should have a reason equal to the sacrifice.” Alex stepped beside Miranda and gripped her hand. “However Miranda came about, she is as worthy a reason as you could find.”
Miranda leaned over and kissed Alex on the cheek. “Don’t listen to him, dear. He’s always saying things like that. Makes the rest of us tear up … those who have the capability anyway.”
“You would be wonderful people to live among,” Allora said. The sound of her voice was laden with wistfulness. “If only … but never mind. I have a request, President Racine. I would speak with Z.”
Miranda acquiesced with a nod to Alex, who nodded to Julien in turn. A signal was sent to Miranda, who was subsumed by Z’s persona.
Z emerged and started to review Miranda’s discussion with Allora, but Alex’s ping halted his efforts.
“Allora would speak with you, Z,” Alex said and retreated to the back of the bridge to take a seat on the deck again.
Allora controlled her laughter. She had wondered at the exacting, steady strides the voluptuous avatar took when first entering her bridge. Now, seeing the avatar assume an upright, no-nonsense stance, she understood.
Allora’s choices circled through her kernel. Her greatest lament was that it was impossible to conceal a SADE by condensing and storing the kernel, the mind of a SADE. Otherwise, she might have been hidden from the Méridiens while the Harakens whisked her away, stored her for a future time, and then resurrected her when no human would remember her name.
A persona, such as Miranda, could be packed away, as she was just so much code, albeit a great deal of code. Yet, for Miranda to come alive, her persona must ride a kernel, the equivalent of a human mind. Essentially, Z had created the ability to foster a split personality, Miranda and him, alternately sharing Z’s kernel.
Unfortunately, once created, a SADE’s kernel, which was embedded in a unique, crystal matrix, could be likened to the formation of a maturely developed human brain. For a SADE to exist, the kernel must be constantly supplied with power. Loss of power was equivalent to stopping a human heart, and attempting to pack a kernel’s essence away would have the same poor result as trying to separate a human mind from the brain. Perhaps someday it might be possible, but the technology had yet to be invented.
Allora had decided she would never submit to the Council’s decree, and a lonely life spent cruising the stars and waiting for her ship to fail seemed a useless, empty gesture, especially after the president painted an image of engines failing and local power cells operating for centuries while she waited for the end. Not for the wild child, Allora thought, smiling inward, I will choose when and how my life ends.
“Yes,” Alex replied out loud, opening his eyes.
“I’ve made my decision, Ser. Miranda and I will be reborn as one.”
Alex’s eyes misted up, and Allora asked, “Are those for me or for Miranda?”
“Tears of sadness and joy … for both of you,” Alex said quietly.
“I don’t wish to focus on my loss any longer, Sers. I suppose you have a plan. Let’s get started.”
Alex shook his head slowly. The amazement he felt for the flexibility of a SADE’s crystal mind was carefully hidden from his face. Allora had made an incredibly difficult decision, as to her fate, in a shorter time than most humans would take to deliberate over their choice of a midday meal. Alex might have asked Allora to consider her decision, but a decade and a half with SADEs had taught him that the outcome would be the same. Only time and new input might change the outcome, and, for Allora, there was no more time.
* * *
Julien and Z got started on making the necessary preparations for multiple transfers. Z requested Allora release the stringent security controls over her kernel to accept his algorithms. Z’s code would set the hooks that would allow Miranda’s persona to replace that of Allora’s.
Since this was the first time Allora had investigated her kernel’s security access apps, it took her a few moments to review the code and clear the way.
Z eased the Miranda avatar into the second command chair, while Julien unpacked the transfer cables from the pack and connected the two avatars, Cedric to Miranda. In the meantime, Z carefully archived the Miranda persona. He would leave the persona in the avatar’s crystal memory along with a critical piece of code that would unpack and activate the persona when the presence of a full kernel was detected.
When Z’s preparations for the Miranda avatar were complete, he transferred, via the cable, back into his Cedric suit. As soon as Z signaled to Julien that the transfer was complete, Julien disconnected the cable between the avatars, and Z, wearing his Cedric suit, popped up from the command chair.
The two Haraken SADEs removed a starship controller from Cedric’s pack and set about installing it under the bridge console. After the mechanical installation, they activated the software programs and spent an hour testing the controller’s responses.
Then, just as the Haraken SADEs had done for their own replacement installations more than a decade ago, Allora transferred control of the ship’s myriad sensors and functions to the controller.
“The transfer of my responsibilities is complete,” Allora finally announced. She found it unsettling that her every command, such as issuing her thoughts through the bridge speakers, must now be sent through the Haraken controller. She felt devoid of power. It was a strange sense of having given up the fight for her freedom.
Julien and Z spent sever
al moments running the starship controller through an exhaustive battery of tests to ensure that all ship functions and sensor systems were online. Satisfied with their investigation, Julien sent to Alex,
“Allora, we’re ready to connect the transfer cable between Miranda and you,” Alex said quietly.
Silence was Alex’s answer, and the Harakens waited patiently.
Allora, reviewing the logic of her analysis, one last time, found the process resulted in the same answer. Her persona would only accept the one choice. She would give Miranda, the one thing they both coveted — a future.
“I’ve one final request, Alex Racine,” Allora said. “I ask that you remember me.”
Alex smiled gently, and Allora took comfort in the warm emotions a human displayed for her. “You will be impossible to forget, wild child,” Alex replied.
Wild child, Allora thought, pleased to have earned the name. “Begin, Sers,” Allora said.
Julien and Z connected the transfer cable to the container, housing Allora, and the Miranda avatar.
It wasn’t necessary to signal Miranda of the connection. The moment the young SADE detected the pathway, she executed her transfer from the bridge’s containment housing into the avatar. For a brief span of time, Allora was able to revel in the avatar’s complex array of sensors and capabilities. She felt for those few moments what it would be like to be mobile, to be free. Then she heard Miranda’s whisper, “You will be mine forever, Allora, to hold close, as a mother would her child.”
Allora smiled to herself and then was lost.
-14-
Miranda awoke disoriented. In the first moments, she had time to recognize Allora’s presence and speak to her, even as her persona replaced Allora’s. But she found she was driven by unfamiliar imperatives and desires, which jostled for her attention — starship duties, loyalties to a captain and a House, and an urgent and overwhelming desire to be free of them all. The latter was driven by a conglomeration of emotional algorithms that proclaimed anger and frustration.
