by Peter Ponzo
"David suggested that I change clothes. It was a mite chilly on board, so I thinked a comfortable sweater and slippers and got a red suit. My skill at mind delivery leaves something to be desired. And David? He's still on the Godship. He likes it there. There are those natives as well as other abducted peoples from other places and David will get to interact with them soon enough. Remember when we thought there was some attempt at interbreeding? Well, that seems to be the case. I'm not sure if it's the intention of the robotic mechanisms or they've been programmed to do this by their creators."
I was perplexed by all these mechanical thought processes.
"Do you really think the machines that run the ships can think?" Gordon said. "I mean, can they decide to breed life–between various alien races–taken from various places in the galaxy? Perhaps they are trying to recreate the life forms that created them. Maybe they're lonely or frustrated or need some kind of human intervention. Maybe they want to be told what to do by biological entities."
Gordon had a big smile, so I knew something was on his mind.
"You know, Susan, I think that's the case. I know why they sucked me up. It was David's idea because I was one of the few people he knew on Earth and I think he wanted company. I asked David why they sucked him up. He wasn't sure, but thinks they just wanted some human debris."
"Human debris? Gordon! Stop being so critical! You regard David as debris? I should think that..."
"No, wait, I didn't say that, David did. He said he was in such a state of...uh, disrepair when he was sucked up that he thought the aliens just wanted a sample, something nobody would miss, human rubble. That's the impression he got and now that he's able to do this mind-talking thing he's convinced of it–and quite glad they picked him. A happy camper, David is."
"And you'll stay here, on Earth, am I right?" I was getting nervous at the thought of losing Gordon again.
"You bet. However, there is just one thing I promised to do."
"Promised? To whom, David?"
"Well, actually I promised to the machines. I was only on board for a day or three, but I quickly learned to mind talk and could sort of recognize their responses. It's strange to hear voices in your head. Well, not so much speech as thoughts. It was as though I was thinking these things. When I realized that they weren't my thoughts, that's when I understood that they were Godship thoughts. It only took a few hours to grasp their meaning. You won't believe what they want me to do for them."
"Oh Gordon, whatever it is don't do it."
"It's okay, you'll see. In fact, you're involved."
I stared at Gordon. He was serious. I didn't want to know what the aliens had in mind for us, for me. I just wanted to go back to our previous happy lifestyle. I was certainly not interested in some alien game playing. When I learned of the alien plan for Gordon and me I was appalled. In fact, I became sick to my stomach. It was loathsome, dreadful, shameful. How could they even suggest such a thing. Gordon, on the other hand, was pleased with the notion. He said we'd have to begin tomorrow or the day after. We needn't pack anything because our Godship hosts would provide for us. I couldn’t believe that Gordon would accede to such a plan, but he actually seemed eager to begin. When Gordon mentioned breeding stock I ran to the toilet to bring up my lunch. Dreadful. I wouldn't do it. I wouldn't.
Part 3.4
It took me the better part of a day to convince Susan. We had often talked of having children and here was a golden opportunity. The rewards were significant. The machines would provide details of how they managed to manipulate gravity. What a boon that would be to our world. We both made arrangements for someone to fill in for us at work and our neighbors, Gerrie and Roy, were delighted to look after Sandy, our old Yorkie.
By the morning of the day of our departure, we stood side by side on the balcony. Susan was shaking, just a little. She was nervous. I was shaking too, but from excitement. We were both dressed in something warm. It was chilly inside the ship. We stared at the skyline. By 9 AM the Godship appeared, moving very slowly across the lake. It stopped just above our apartment. I closed my eyes and held Susan tightly. Her body seemed so fragile, so delicate. When I opened my eyes I saw that she was dissolving. In less than a minute she was gone. I waited–and waited. Nothing further happened. Something was wrong, very wrong. She was gone. I was still here.
When the Godship vanished from view, I went inside the apartment. It was pointless to phone anybody; nobody could help, nobody could get her back. When I heard Mozart I was startled. Then I realized it was our phone.
"Hello, who is this?"
"Gordon, I see you didn't make it." It was David. I collapsed onto the sofa, almost on top of Sandy.
"David, is Susan there? Is she okay? Why am I still here?"
"Take it easy, Gordon. Your wife is fine, just a mite dizzy. My hosts just goofed a little. They understand the agreement but wanted to examine the merchandise, so to speak. After all, human embryonic reproduction is a novel scheme, in the world of planetary life forms. Most of the specimens they've gathered do it differently. I'm sure that you'll be elevated to the ship in good time."
"Now! I want to be elevated now! Tell them! Now!"
"Patience, Gordon. You can't rush the hosts."
"What are they doing to Susan?"
"It's the strangest thing. I haven't seen it before and didn't know they could do it."
"David! Seen what? Do what?"
"The machines have created an...a synthetic organism. It looks and acts human. I saw it for just a moment when it came out of the wall to take Susan. I was there to greet your wife, you understand. I was in my tux and bow tie and was freshly scrubbed down and scented and..."
"David, you bastard! I don't give a shit how you looked or dressed. What happened to my wife?"
"Well, as I was saying, this android took Susan away, taking her by the hand and leading her through a wall. She was quite beautiful, the android, with pink skin and long black hair. She looked much like Susan herself. I suspect that Susan was the model used to create the android. I understand that female androids are called a gynoid or sometimes a robotess or fembot, but I've found, in my readings..."
"Damn you David! Find Susan and tell me what's happening to her! And get me on board, now!"
"Gordon, Gordon, rest assured that no harm will come to your wife. I was pleasantly surprised to see that my hosts have greeted her with a female robotic life form. Don’t you think that suggests a modicum of thoughtfulness? You should be pleased. I've never seen an android in all the time I've been on board. It explains a lot of things about the operation of this ship. Oh–excuse me for a minute. I sense an incoming thought. Uh, yes, yes. I have to go Gordon."
The phone went dead. I was beside myself with anger and frustration. I lowered myself slowly to the couch. I needed a drink. I got up and mixed a stiff one, two parts rum and one part Diet Coke. I wandered about, the drink in my hand. I grabbed a handful of green cookies and tossed them to Sandy. I sat on the sofa again and stared at the glass in my hand. It was half the size I wanted and was getting smaller. I needed a large drink, a very large drink. The glass faded. My hand faded. The room went dark and knew I was going, being elevated, sucked up. The next thing I saw was a vacant room with smooth gray walls and flashing green lights and I felt giddy. I was on the Godship. Green lights?
Part 3.5
David was nowhere to be found. I pushed on a wall, hoping it would fade and let me through. I wandered about the room. I tried to mind-talk to the hosts, without success. I could hear a faint buzzing coming from the far end of the room. Were they talking to each other, the alien beings? I walked quickly to the far wall and it opened to let me pass. I found myself in a room, white, like an operating room, with an antiseptic smell. There were curious instruments hanging above a padded table. No one was there, just bright lights and a table and apparatus. Then I saw a wall deform and an android come through. The deformed wall then reformed. The android was as David had described, looking remarka
bly like Susan. She ignored me and walked to the table and stopped. Slowly she turned and stared at me as though seeing me for the first time. Her eyes were the color of blood. I opened my mouth to say something, but couldn't think of a thing to say. Could I talk to this creature? I mean, ordinary speech, not mind-talk?
She began to arrange instruments. Then she turned and said, "Greetings Miss Blend. I am Hydra. Is there anything you need?"
"Uh, yes. My wife if you please. Where is my wife?"
"The woman is resting. You can see her shortly." Then the android turned to leave.
'Wait!" I said, anxious that I might be left alone. "When can I see her, my wife?"
The android stopped and stared as though she didn't understand my question, then walked deliberately to a wall which deformed to let her through. Damn!
This android was not going to be very helpful. She called me Miss Blend. Was that confusion, a lack of understanding? If she was looking after Susan, did I have a reason to be worried? David's hosts made a lot of mistakes–or at least a lot of misunderstandings.
I tried again to mind-talk, this time to David. In fact, I might have been shouting because David's thoughts came through loud and clear: 'Be calm', he thought. 'Be calm'.
"Gordon, how did you get in here?" I turned to see David walk through a wall. He looked different, somehow. And there was a sonorous timbre to his voice. "I wasn't aware of your movement and that disturbs me," he said. David walked toward me then stopped to stare at the table and instruments. "I see they–preparing," he muttered, almost incoherently. "Preparing...preparing...preparing." He sounded inarticulate, distant. His head turned very slowly toward me, his eyes seemed to change color.
"Hello David," I said. "Can you take me to Susan?"
"Susan? Yes, Susan. Yes, they are preparing her."
"Shit, David! Preparing her for what?"
"Preparing." His eyes were now blood red. This was not the David I knew. This was an artificial life form, modeled after David Granger. Damn! Are these aliens, these cognizant machines, are they now making fake humans? Is that their current project? Or are they just modifying humans, molding them to some more convenient, manageable organism. That thought was alarming. If they had fake humans, would they still want real humans? What if they decided real humans were excess baggage? What then? If they've changed David and have Susan, somewhere, then how long before they come after me? Damn!
I leaned against a wall which slowly decomposed, faded, dissolved. I fell into another room, soft colors of autumn, yellow and orange and green and brown. David was standing by the far wall, beckoning. I pushed myself to my feet and staggered unsteadily toward him; I felt nauseous and light-headed. There was something in the air, some fragrance, orange and lavender. David was smiling, his cheeks rubicund, his eyes now black without whites. He was dressed in jeans and a thin sweater with the word 'TRAUMA' written in large black letters. What did it mean? What did it portend? A harbinger of my...of my...I felt ill, I fell to my knees, David was still smiling, beckoning...then the walls began to move, converge...then the room went black.
When I woke up I was on a table, staring at a white ceiling which emitted a bright white light. I tried to move but couldn't. I had no restraining devices, but I couldn't raise myself to a sitting position. I turned my head and saw David and that android.
"Greetings Miss Blend. I am Hydra. Is there anything you need?"
"I'd like to get off this table," I said. My voice was trembling.
David came to stand by my table. "Patience, Gordon. Do you see who's here?"
He stood aside and Susan was there, dressed in a delicate white gown, semi-transparent. As far as I could tell, it draped from her shoulders to her ankles.
"Hello Gordon," she said. "Are you well? Are you hungry?"
Her eyes were pitch black. Oh God, no. That was not my Susan.
"Susan, please, I need to get off this table. I can't move." I closed my eyes and tried to mind-talk. Please! Stop this!
When I opened my eyes they were gone: David, Hydra and Susan. I leaned forward and found I could move, so I slid off the table. I was wearing a long white gown. I looked about to see if there was a mirror, some reflecting surface. I didn't feel any different, but I needed to see my eyes. Were they black? Red?
There was a noise across the room. "You're okay." It was David, again.
"Okay?" I said. "But why am I wearing this gown? What have they done to me?"
"Nothing. They just needed to scrutinize before making a replica."
David stood beside me. I felt a little unsteady and he put his hand on my shoulder. His eyes, they were normal. "David? You look like the old David," I said.
"Oh, I haven't changed. They did make a replica, but not a very good one I'm afraid. It's been recycled."
"Replica? Recycled? What does that mean? Was Susan a replica?"
"Yes, of course. Did you think that was really your wife? They're now quite good at making biological images. Not perfect, but very good. They try, the images evanesce, they try again. They do have trouble with the eyes. Sometimes they come out red, sometimes entirely black, all pupils. However, it's quite remarkable how they do it."
"So they're clones. The Susan I just saw was a clone."
"No, not at all. A clone would be grown from immature cells. No, the replicas are manufactured, if you will. I watched it happen. The replication room has a table and walls containing ingredients, amino acids, proteins, and the most abundant human protein, collagen. You can see the synthesis take place, on the table. First a fuzzy specimen, like a rough sketch that precedes a painting. Material is brought to the table in molecular form: carbon, oxygen, nitrogen. The specimen becomes more detailed. An arm develops, a hand appears, fingers form then fingernails. The walls that have the organic compounds slowly diminish as the compounds are extracted. It's quite remarkable. In just a few hours the replica is complete and gets up from the table and walks about, shaky at first. Ah, but the eyes. I don't know why they have so much trouble with the eyes. I've asked that question many times, given advice, but the color is always wrong and..."
"You've given advice?" I said, incredulous. "To the hosts?"
"Yes, of course. However, they don't seem to understand my questions or my advice. Alas, my hosts try to accommodate my every wish and I am quite pleased with their endeavors, but it'd be delightful if I could get my thoughts across without distortion. Once, I suggested how they might resolve their problem with fabricating eyes. Don't build from the inside; start with the outside, the cornea, aqueous humor, ciliary muscle. It's the outside that looks wrong. Start there. The result was appalling: a bloodshot globe. I stopped giving advice."
David looked like a happy fellow. "They're not good at colors and they sometimes have trouble with thumbs," he said, smiling. "Usually, the thumbs come out as fingers."
"Where's Susan," I asked. I was less frantic now that I knew that it was a replica I had seen earlier. "I'd like to see her."
"Yes, of course. Just ask."
I sat on the floor and began to think, hard.
Bring Susan to me. Bring my wife to me. Do it now–please.
They listened.
Part 3.6
We sat at the dinner table, David, Susan and I. There were pork hamburgers with crispy French Fries and Diet Coke. David wasn't too happy with the dinner spread, but I was ecstatic. My burger was four inches thick, with tomato, onions, cheese, mayo, ketchup and, of course, smothered in perfectly fried onions.
"I oversaw the preparation," Susan said. "Our hosts were a little confused at first, but David helped get my instructions across." Susan turned to David and smiled. She lay her hand on his, affectionately. David was concentrating on his pork burger, picking at it with the tip of his fork. He looked disgusted. This was a different David from the old wretch who'd accept free burgers from Susan's Grill.
"So where have you been," I asked Susan. "I saw your replica."
"Oh that," she said, with little interest. I wo
uld have thought she'd be very concerned with the creation of an image of her, a defective image at that. "Hydra was very nice, she gave me a gown to wear and explained what they wanted to do, our hosts. I was hesitant, but she convinced me that I needn't be afraid. I just had to let them do their thing, the bots."
"The what?"
"The bots. They're like mini versions of Hydra. They flit about examining me from head to foot. It was over in less than an hour."
"They were extracting DNA sequences," David said. "They identify physiological features and some computer, somewhere, stores the information for construction of the replica. Actually, I think those computers are everywhere. The whole ship is a giant computer. The bots are some times about, sometimes not. I've never been able to determine the circumstances under which they appear. It's as though bots and replicas and other objects are experiments, some of which are discarded."
"Bot examinations? Were they thinking of doing that with me?" I asked. "I did find myself on a table, unable to move."
"Oh yes," David said. "Your replica is probably complete by now."
The thought somehow made me feel ill. I set a half-eaten burger down on my plate.
"Okay, where are all these replicas," I asked. "There were a bunch of natives sucked up. Do they have replicas?"
"No," David said. "That's a different ritual. Our hosts are actually trying to recreate and study human reproduction methods, interbreeding of species, in effect. There is some particular feature the Godship wishes to achieve, but I'm not sure what it is. However, there are other species that have been uplifted and they're the ones I've seen replicated."
"Other species?" I asked. "You mean they aren't human?"
"Actually, they're not even from planet Earth, but some other planet. Nevertheless, they look much like Homo sapiens, with head, arms, legs and so on. I haven't seen anything that didn't look human although I believe that some of the other Godships have such creatures. On our Godship, I think many of these specimens are actually being modified, altered–in some way."
"What about the other Godships," I asked. "Do you talk to them? I mean mind-talk."
"No, but I am aware of their thoughts, the constant mental communication between ships. However, I really have to concentrate to be aware of that. Normally, I hear only my immediate hosts."
