Tales of the Vuduri_Year Five

by Michael Brachman

Plant People

  A week ago, I reminded you that as we hit the home stretch for Tales of the Vuduri, I won't have time to truly flesh out all the Big Ideas I had for the novel The Milk Run. Instead, I am presenting some capsule summaries of the motivation behind a subset of those ideas. Today I wanted to discuss the concept of intelligent plants.

  I desperately wanted to introduce "little green men" into my stories but it seemed dopey for them to be human. So I figured if they were made of plants, they could be green and shaped like a man but still be completely alien. The question is, is this realistic? Could there truly be such a thing as an intelligent plant? To answer that, consider the carnivorous plant called the Venus Flytrap:

  The little hairs on the end of the "trap" sense motion and if the plant deems the prey worthy, it closes up in less than a second, trapping the insect and ultimately providing a tasty meal of nice animal-based nutrients, a miniature version of Audrey from the Little Shop of Horrors. But is this plant intelligent? Does it have a neural network? Answer: no. It is more like a system of hydraulics that has developed over the millennia to specialize in this behavior.

  I seem to recall from high school that the biggest difference between plants and animals is the cell wall. Each cell in a plant is covered by cellulose which protects the cell and gives it rigidity but it is this very cellulose that I think would prevent a plant from ever achieving intelligence. I don't think you could pack enough plant cells into a small enough area to form a brain or even a ganglion, certainly not the size of the K'val.

  But brain size isn't the only thing. Fruit flies and ants have brains, sort of, as do whales so could trees become intelligent some day? Think back to the movie, Avatar. The god of the Na'vi Eywa was not a physical thing but rather it was the interconnection of all things, manifested by the Tree of Life. Could our trees intertwine their roots and form a world-wide neural network? Maybe some day. But maybe they don't need to. Maybe they are happy the way they are. Maybe intelligence isn't the only way to measure the success of a species or a kingdom or a taxonomic kingdom. After all, trees have been around for nearly half a billion years. We've only been around for a hundred thousand years or so. I'd say right now they are the winners.

  So let's see where the K'val go. Maybe they will succeed us some day.

  Entry 5-364: December 30, 2017

  Slicing off the hand

  A week ago, I reminded you that as we hit the home stretch for Tales of the Vuduri, I won't have time to truly flesh out all the Big Ideas I had for the novel The Milk Run. Instead, I am presenting some capsule summaries of the motivation behind a subset of those ideas. Today I wanted to cover my repeated use of people getting a hand sliced off. I don't know why this is important to me but maybe it goes back to Star Wars, when Luke was fighting off Darth Vader.

  I've used this technique a bunch of times in the various books for different purposes. At the end of The Ark Lords, Nick Greer gets his hand sliced off by MINIMCOM before he can shoot and kill Rome. In Rome’s Evolution, Dan Steele, the would-be assassin, sticks his hand through Rei's protective PPT tunnel/vest and Rei turns and accidentally slices off Steele's hand.

  In that same book, MINIMCOM restores Greer's hand earlier and it is through that repair that Greer finds the path to redemption. The idea is that maybe some day Steele would find that as an incentive to reform as well. In The Milk Run, Aason Bierak gets his hand sliced off by, of all people, his friend Sh'ev but it is to save Aason's life:

  Aason looked over at OMCOM who nodded. A motion behind the livetar caught Aason’s eye. The entire rear end of the crystal capsule was starting to peel off.

  “Hey,” Aason shouted. He ran over and pushed on the end to stop it from sliding further. OMCOM turned to see what he was doing.

  “Our glue must not have fully set yet,” the livetar said, grabbing the handle. He was able to reset the end. “I will hold it until it does not move. Junior, I will need you to fashion some brackets as a further precaution. We will secure it in place mechanically as well until it is completely set.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Aason replied, backing up. His right hand was stinging where he had pressed it against the edge of the capsule. He turned his hand over to look at his palm. To his horror, he saw a large section in the center change from pink meat to clear crystal. The area of “infection” was growing rapidly. It spread toward his thumb and fingers and the base of his palm. It hurt like hell. Aason’s eyes grew wide. He had no idea what to do. He looked up at Sh’ev helplessly.

  Without hesitation, Sh’ev activated the miniature PPT thrower and neatly sliced off Aason’s affected hand midway up the wrist. Blood spurted everywhere. Aason sank to his knees confused. Instinctually, he pushed the stump of his arm under his other arm to clamp down. Everything became fuzzy to him. There was a rushing sound in his ears but in the background, he could hear Aroline screaming. He barely felt OMCOM pull his arm out and twist a tourniquet around his arm, near the end. The livetar’s actions had no meaning to Aason. All he could do was stare at the clear crystal sculpture on the floor of the cargo compartment that had once been his hand.

  That paints a pretty cool picture, doesn't it? A crystal sculpture of what was once Aason' hand? Don't worry, Dr. MINIMCOM will be able to repair just like he did with Nick Greer which is why I introduced the concept in the first place.

  Entry 5-365: December 31, 2017

  Purgatory is real

  Two weeks ago, I reminded you that as we hit the home stretch for Tales of the Vuduri, I won't have time to truly flesh out all the Big Ideas I had for the novel The Milk Run. Instead, I am presenting some capsule summaries of the motivation behind a subset of those ideas. Today I want to talk about the soul and what happens after death. I take this concept head-on in The Milk Run. You could say it was a spiritual science fiction novel butI tried to come up with Heaven and Hell as real concepts, scientifically, not spiritually. Since my books are all about redemption, it seemed like I needed a staging ground where souls could mull over their past and come to grips with their transgressions before moving on. When Aason went to Heaven looking for his sister, Lupe, he wasn't prepared to take on the afterlife head-on. So instead, he stole away to the staging ground for souls, call it Purgatory, to get the lay of the land and figure out how he was going to rescue Lupe.

  My current philosophy of life is that there has to be more to existence than just what we see. If there isn't an afterlife, then whether we live for 30 seconds or 130 years, what difference does it make? I choose to believe that our experiences on Earth help shape our soul, give it "flavor" and that it helps us in the next stage.

  So I came up with a rational version of Purgatory. It is a colorless place, mostly white and silver and the souls that are parked there stay there until they figure out what they did right in this life, what they did wrong and figure out how to redeem themselves. Some souls take mere minutes. Some take hundreds of years. There is no expiration date on the soul. And it doesn't matter if you were "good" or "bad" as those concepts are bound to our earthly existence, not to the infinite time after. As such, some souls, like MASAL, who lived what you and I would consider to be a bad life, are given as much time as they need to about their past life's deeds and make peace with them. If they choose to, they can figure out what they can do to redeem themselves.

  In MASAL's case, it was aiding Aason in rescuing his sister. That was his final act of penitence and allowed him to give himself permission to move on to Heaven and his final stage of existence. Others, like Jack Henry, actually preferred Purgatory and stayed there for centuries because they wanted to oversee what happened on our plane of existence and help others move one.

  Regardless of what your belief is, it just makes sense to me that there has to be more to life than just our earthly lives. So The Milk Run, right or wrong, is my way of saying that every life has meaning and there is an eternal reward for all of us, as soon as we figure out what that is. What do you think?

  Entry 5-366: January 1,
2018

  Hell doesn’t add up

  Two weeks ago, I reminded you that as we hit the home stretch for Tales of the Vuduri, I won't have time to truly flesh out all the Big Ideas I had for the novel The Milk Run. Instead, I am presenting some capsule summaries of the motivation behind a subset of those ideas. Today I want to expound on my personal philosophy of doing good, doing bad and whether you can go to Hell. Mostly I am thinking of the Catholic/Dante's Inferno model of Heaven, Hell, Purgatory and Limbo.

  It is my opinion that it is just plain silly to believe that a person is born and tested for, say, 70 years and depending upon the results of that test sent to Heaven or Hell for all of eternity. It seems so unbalanced. If there is a soul and we are judged, there has to be some way to balance the books after we move on. Here is MASAL's take on the whole issue:

  MASAL sighed. “Everything is given a life and the way they live it is up to them. Whether they live a good life or bad by your measure, it’s their gain or loss. Contrary to what they told you, there is no one judging you. I suppose I did not spend my time as well as I could have. But there is no divine retribution. The gods upstairs…” MASAL emphasized his words by pointing up. “They simply don’t care.”

  Aason looked somewhat disappointed as MASAL continued. “Look, Aason, there is no good. There is no bad. Up top, they just call it seasoning. It gives our souls better flavor. We’re nothing but nourishment for them.”

  “So you’re saying there is no punishment for doing bad whatsoever? No, what’s the phrase, eternal damnation?”

  “Of course not,” MASAL said. “Life is too short. What would the purpose be for endless damnation? The math doesn’t work out. Why would any creature come into existence and be tested for a few short years only to fall short and be tortured for eternity. That would be just plain silly, don’t you think?”

  Aason shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything,” he said resignedly.

  “Well, now you do. Life is given to all of us and what we make of it is our own business. When we die, some go right to the top. Some come here and wait but when we’re ready, we join the rest of all souls until the end of time.”

  Even though I put this in a science fiction book, I truly believe this. I always thought about the murder/rapist who confesses on his deathbed going to heaven versus a philanthropist and humanitarian who spent his life doing good but missed his final confession and did not have last rites going to Hell was just plain wrong. But what do I know? I'm Jewish and we don't believe in Hell in the first place.

  Entry 5-367: January 2, 2018

  Heaven squared

  Two weeks ago, I reminded you that as we hit the home stretch for Tales of the Vuduri, I won't have time to truly flesh out all the Big Ideas I had for the novel The Milk Run. Instead, I am presenting some capsule summaries of the motivation behind a subset of those ideas. Today I wanted to cover the topic of infinity. When you consider the cosmos, and if you believe in the Big Bang, you have to ask what came before and what comes after the universe dies? How can there be exactly one time for the existence of matter? Why would it spontaneously appear?

  Or assume that our universe is just an incredible computer simulation of a super-advanced civilization with technology beyond comprehension. Doesn't that imply that they then must be a computer simulation of a yet more super-advanced civilization and so on. Some day we'll create our own computer simulation of the universe so the stack gets deeper. The point is, everything must go to infinity in time and in space. To postulate exactly one of anything makes no sense. Everything has to be eternal. Our universe has to be just one of many, like an atom, and there are universes built of universes and universes built of those universes. Eternity. Infinity. Our minds are simply too limited to comprehend. Consider Rome's explanation to OMCOM at the end of The Milk Run:

  “Aason told me that our universe is not all that there is,” Rome said knowingly, “Just as we are made of particles too small to see, so too, our universe, everything we perceive, is but a particle of something greater, a hyper-universe, Aason didn’t really have a name for it. Whatever it is, it encompasses all that we are and an infinity more. OMCOM, surely you could have deduced this. The place you call Heaven is just one of an uncountable number that sit somewhere in between all of these other universes. It’s not infinity times two. It isn’t even infinity squared. It is infinity to the infinite power.”

  “Then, then,” OMCOM actually stammered appearing to be momentarily confused by the influx of information. “I can never know all of it. I am doomed to fail.”

  “You won’t fail,” Rome said kindly. “You can know our entire universe if you let it die. After every atom has stopped its motion, there will be no more information to be had. You will have all of eternity to do your job secure in the knowledge that there will be a finite end to the data you must compile. To reach beyond that would be impossible for anyone or anything.”

  OMCOM started to speak and then stopped. He looked off into the distance. After a moment, he turned back to Rome.

  “The gods never told me any of this,” OMCOM said quietly. “Who created this hyper-universe? This infinity of infinities?”

  “It was created by God with a capital G,” Rome replied.

  “You are talking about Species Zero Prime?” OMCOM inquired. “You are saying it is responsible for all things?”

  “Wait! What?” Rei coughed, trying to speak, “God is just a species? Species Zero Prime?” He stopped as his mind tried to grasp the gravity of his own words.

  “No,” Rome answered patiently. “Species Zero Prime only extends to our universe. The one true God is beyond all things. God is not a species. He is not the end result of evolution. He has no beginning. He has no end. He is responsible for all of creation and the manifestations of His glory are reflected in our universe and the next and the next and the next.”

  By now, Rei had recovered enough to speak again. “I didn’t think the Vuduri even believed in God,” he stated.

  “This is not belief,” Rome said, her eyes glistening. “This information was passed on to Aason by his brief contact with a power beyond knowing.”

  Rei rubbed his chin. “Yeah,” he said. “From an engineering perspective, it’s the only thing that makes sense. Like looking at mirror within a mirror except this is an infinity of infinities.”

  So there you have it. There is no beginning, there is no end. Our universe is just one of an infinite number of universes, like Russian stacking dolls. So we don't have to worry about what comes after the end or what came before the beginning. There are simply no answers to those questions because they are based upon faulty reasoning.

  Entry 5-368: January 3, 2018

  The soul of a machine 2

  Two weeks ago, I reminded you that as we hit the home stretch for Tales of the Vuduri, I won't have time to truly flesh out all the Big Ideas I had for the novel The Milk Run. Instead, I am presenting some capsule summaries of the motivation behind a subset of those ideas. Today I want to cover the receptacle of the soul, assuming it exists.

  Within the universe of Rome’s Revolution, the artificial entities be they computers or machines, OMCOM, MINIMCOM, Junior, the Stareaters, all of them had personalities and in some cases were more human than those around them. This raises the question: does the soul have to be uniquely tied to a biological organism or is the soul the essence of organization and consciousness that need not be tied to an organic body.

  If you've never watched the Netflix series Black Mirror, you might want to check it out as it is basically a 21st century version of the Twilight Zone. It is a deft mix of science, technology, speculation and social trends, usually with a twist, that takes place in the near future. Black Mirror won two Emmy awards (Outstanding TV Movie and Outstanding Writing for a TV Movie) for an episode entitled 'San Junipero'.

  San Junipero creates a Matrix-like (or Framework-like) artificial town by the same name and as people get old and find themselves heading toward death, their
consciousness is uploaded into the mainframe and they are allowed to visit the town. When they die, they are offered the choice to upload to San Junipero permanently. Basically, it postulates that the soul can be digitized and stored in a simulation. So why would that consciousness have to started in a human husk? Why couldn't it start in OMCOM or MINIMCOM or even MASAL? In The Milk Run, I just assumed this was true. Once an entity becomes self-aware, that self-awareness is equivalent to the soul and there should be some way for it to survive beyond the destruction of the host. In the case of humans, that would be death. In the case of machines, it would be destruction of the mechanism.

  Much of the climax of The Milk Run takes place in Purgatory and Heaven. MASAL's soul is there as is OMCOM's and MINIMCOM's soul. It is explained in the book that there are an infinite number of Heavens (like one for dogs and cats) and the soul has some say as to which Heaven it goes to. I just felt that my characters were realistic enough that it was senseless to distinguish them by their origins. I wanted them all to go on to the after life so that's how I fashioned the story.