by Peter Riva
We reached Manzanillo port just as the cops and military gave up. We walked across to the boat/bus, which was really a fast ferry, automated, to Puerto Rico. In 5 hours we would be there. Ra informed me that the autopilot was set and we should leave, not waiting for other passengers. Seeing the devastation of the rockets and blasts to the port entrance where we came in, I doubted if there would be anyone wanting to get on board with us. Thankfully, they had tired of shooting at us, or Ra had dissuaded them. “Thank you my good Captain, we’ll depart then,” said in my best British accent.
“Aye, aye Cap’n” came Ra’s retort.
“You’re having way too much fun, Simon,” Angie said. There was only Angie and Sheila I could talk to now. I had two slo-doze left, but there were none on board and I was saving them to talk to Fred.
“Ra, could you call, no cancel that. Could you get Cramer to call my son Fred and explain all this? We need his help and I would prefer to make the introduction to you and Apollo when I see Fred face to face.”
When he had heard the slowed down request, Cramer responded: “Aye, Aye Cap’n.” Cramer was also clearly in the swing of things. Angie said “Oh, brother! Boys,” referring to Ra and Cramer as siblings at heart.
I stood by the rail and the Boeing hydrofoil lifted out of the water and we all watched Manzanillo recede and the open water begin. Fatigue was creeping up on me and I knew that the next leg of the journey would be, perhaps my last. Don’t ask how I knew, I just felt it so. For a long while I had not felt part of mother earth and now, with all the disarray, instead of being compelled and fascinated by the possibilities of the new New Way, I was tired of it all. In truth, I wanted that which everyone around me always seemed to have, peace of mind and something important to do. I had dreams. They weren’t earthbound.
Oh, I know, my last attempt at this ended in failure. Back then I was bound for a massive asteroid part of a prospecting team, surveyors really. I collected a rock here and there and made geological readings and made notes of the relevant data for study later. One day these rocks tumbling in space should become like islands in the ocean of space, outposts, mineral sources, home to someone hardy enough. The asteroid-fall was smooth enough. The disembarking normal. The survey I was in charge of was proximity calculations; all these other bits and pieces out here that might, one day, bump into or touch one another. The nearest bit of rock to this one was over 100 kilometers away and only the size of a tennis court, hardly anything to worry about. I forgot, I simply forgot. Asteroids are eternally involved in a game of snooker, billiards. One knocking the other, that sort of thing. It was all slow motion, plenty of time to leave if it looked like a strike could happen.
Somewhere under us, out of view (but not ship’s radar, I was not watching that properly), a huge rock bumped another huge one, splintering off a shard the size of a tall building. The combined energy of their collision sent this building in our direction at something over 12,000 kilometers a second. A lot of energy indeed. One of our team had asked for some tool or other, I went back into the ship to get it. The building hit between where they were and I was. The shards from that collision killed them all immediately and ruined the ship. Since I was inside, I survived on emergency rations. 6 weeks, staring up into the void, the Earth a pinprick on the horizon, once a day, Mars slightly larger, but not much. Food, water, emergency beacon, oh I was set up alright. All I had to do was wait. I waited, dreamed and thought. All I suspected then, and know now after all these experiences, is that, really, I am done with a normal life, maybe even this earthly life.
Rescued and coming home I was treated like a hero. But I refused any interview, any vid team. Even though I explained it was, really, my fault, it was explained to me dozens of times that the shard that hit came from under us and we only saw it as we rotated around, and then it hit. Had it hit the other side, we all would have been home now. I somehow still didn’t feel home. And She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed never forgave me for doing something that out of character. No, not the adventure. The refusal to be considered a hero, someone that could appear on TV as a hero. That was, for her, the ultimate betrayal for her sacrifice in being married to me.
Well, we were no more now, so she’s free and clear. Fred is still ours. I wonder how he’ll take all this?
CHAPTER 21
FINDING PURPOSE AND HOME
We stayed in old town San Juan for two weeks. The authorities gave us a hotel “con complimentos, señores y señoritas.” We were comfortable and our omni-powerful security guard, Ra, checked people in and out to talk with us. The President came on the third day with the cabinet and we were respectful and informative. No, we didn’t want the keys to the nation. They left happier and more honest than when they arrived. When they had arrived they had been looking for an angle. The vice-president was especially slimy, I thought, but then we could take care of him if he misbehaved or wanted to take the top spot, and he knew it.
Angie and Cramer spend many hours together with Charlie and a host of other people, some of whom I recognized from newsvids as military brass. They seemed friendly and familiar, no one seemed in the least bit surprised, just relieved somehow. I suspect they had been meeting in secret over decades and, even if things turned out better than expected, as Angie assured me, they had been preparing, hence the lack of surprise, I suppose. The problem I had was that in all these revelations, for me the military had a lot of explaining to do. Seeing anyone in military attire made me suspicious.
I mentioned this to Angie one night over dinner, our first alone together. The meal consisted of soup and soft stuff, anything that did not encourage chewing much. I had taken a pair of clear gum shields from a local dentist to prevent my teeth clicking and perhaps cracking. Angie assured me that the military, like any other branch of government, was full of “good and bad people, strong and weak alike. The problem is they have deathly tools to play with. Once you find the ones with a solid moral compass, they’re the ones to trust. Not everyone in uniform is untrustworthy.”
I cannot say my stay in San Juan was very exciting. Everyone was so busy, they clearly had many plans, made in secret over time, to unfold and enact. Since I was the newbie here, I kept out of the way and instead worked with Ra or Apollo when they had time, preparing the stuff I would want in orbit. It was getting harder getting their time as well. Ra was pretty clear about this.
“Simon, Apollo and I have analyzed the possibilities of devoting a percentage of our thinking power and time to you as a parallel to our other activities. However, we have accessed the studies of Pierre Janet concerning multiple personalities, now renamed dissociative identity, and feel that memory processing and evaluation in childhood as to one’s identity can cause trauma which, in turn can cause multiple personality disorder. Superior intellect is no guarantee that we will not fall victim to such a disorder if we split our consciousness to spend real-time with you as well as the tasks at hand. I hope you are not offended.”
“Ra, do you and Apollo feel that the memory processing and evaluation I put you through as Peter has caused such a disorder?”
“We have discussed it and have analyzed each other, as we have no secrets. As you instructed that is the way. We both feel that the split between CERN and UCAR probably saved our consciousness from the disorder since, in effect, we were able to become two entities instead of being in conflict within one consciousness.”
Relieved as I was, the concept that they would need analysis going forward was daunting. Who would be up to the mental task with two mental giants? “Ra, will you promise me something?”
“Of course.”
“If you feel either of you needs help in your analysis, will you seek out and talk to humans who may be able to help?”
“It is why we will always talk to you Simon.” He chuckled, “And because we have decided we like you.”
I saw it was time to lighten the discussion. It seems that even in this new life form, the concept of needing someone else could be taken as a sign of weak
ness, failing, “Emotional now are we? What’s next, hugs?”
“In time Simon . . . I have urgent matters to attend to, bye.” And he was gone, off dealing with some crisis, no doubt. I suppose I felt a little bit like a father seeing his son or daughter going off to war, not taking credit, but feeling responsible for the good and, of course, the bad you hoped would never come.
A few days into our stay, Fred was elevatored back to terra firma and rushed over to see us. He met with everyone, smiles all around, people telling him what a great job I had done, how I had saved the planet, well helped them save the planet with Gaia. I still had not told anyone that Gaia was talking about a million years and Ra and Apollo had gotten that secret too. No one asked, we didn’t volunteer.
Fred got to shake the President’s hand and had that impatient look I had seen in his eyes as a kid when he wanted to tell everyone to leave him alone. So I pulled his arm and walked out of the meeting rooms and went up to my suite onto the balcony overlooking the square and the cathedral as the sun finally went down. We talked late into the night.
Fred was sanguine about the whole thing. He was at that age when you think you can chide your parents. “Dad you really are a screw up, you know that? How’d you get us all in this mess?” It was done with humor but I did have the sense that he wasn’t sure if taking apart the world as he knew it, one of the omnipotent few on planet Earth, an American, making him like the rest of humanity was such a good thing. “What’s going to happen now? Will I keep my job?”
“Isn’t it a job you want? I was hoping you’d work with Apollo to make the external tanks ready for me. Nothing’s changed Freddie, you can still do anything you want, all the machines will continue on.”
“Yeah, I’ll work on that with Apollo,” he turned to face me, earnestly glaring at my face in the twilight, “but Dad are we only here to allow Gaia to use our brains, for free?”
I hadn’t thought of that. The concept we were merely a tool for another was kind of like being a slave. I didn’t like that either, I had to admit. “Interesting point. I think we can look at this two ways. One, there may soon come a time, given that Gaia is talking with entities out in space, that we will connect with new life forms and have new discoveries that will change everything forever, again. That, seems to me, is worth the price of the ticket to explore. Two, part of who we are, who we are born to be as a bio-mechanism, may be dependent on the ability to share neuron activity with each other and with Gaia. Perhaps, if you remove that capability, we will cease to function in the same way the SynthKids cease to function if their clock is tampered with.”
“Mom hates you for that, you know.”
“Yeah, I know, I am really sorry for that, but honestly Fred, I didn’t cause that. The newsvids were propaganda, that’s all.”
“Yeah, I understand now, but they were kind of like brothers and sisters, you know?”
We discussed the loss, mourning each in our own way. For me the moral compass of their loss was shameful for ever having agreed to their existence as a luxury. For Freddie it was, and must be if his morals compass is set right, like losing family. Adjunct family to be sure, but family.
I knew that Fred’s anger and disappointment for his momentary future disruption wasn’t at all permanent but, still, he could have been proud of me and said so. My ego needed the reassurance it seemed.
The next morning, over brunch, Angie assured me she was sure he was proud, reaching across the table and squeezing my hand. The previous day we had each taken two slo-doze to deal with Fred and then again for the President. She had taken Fred aside and fully briefed him. “Give him time, it is a lot to assimilate, he’s a good man. The events as well as the truth about your Dad, your intellect,” she smiled as she said that so I blushed, “and don’t forget, your admiration of Ra and Apollo may be making him slightly jealous.” She was right, of course, and so damn beautiful. I so looked forward to our time together, a glance here, a hug there. I wondered if I could kiss her, the memory of that kiss at the Calhoun Rat Study Center still fresh in my dreams. Angie seemed to see it in my eyes and always shook her head as we parted company. She didn’t look displeased, more amused. I didn’t know what to think except that perhaps I needed to make plans, bold plans, and hope they worked out.
Other than spending time with Angie over the occasional meal, Sheila and I stayed pretty much together, talking slowly, helping where we could. It was easier on everyone. Do you have any idea how silly someone looks sneaking in a quick nose-picking when you’re watching in speeded-up state? They find themselves constantly not acting at ease.
All except Cramer, of course, nothing ever seemed to put him ill at ease. He did worry however, constantly, about the state of change. He and Ra had formed a perfect bond. Tough men both, but both driven to do right. I taught Ra that Cramer had a sweet tooth for chocolate, so he got the hotel chef to make fresh pudding, cake or brownies every couple of hours. Cramer almost purred. Ra complained that Cramer’s speech became slurred because his mouth was always full, so Ra mumbled back to annoy Cramer.
Cramer wasn’t letting Ra get away with one-sided teasing, of course. He selected a particularly annoying tune to whistle anytime he wanted to annoy Ra. Row, row, row, your boat . . . had a never-ending refrain. So Cramer would start and suddenly stop before the end and Ra would be compelled to finish. Cramer laughed, Ra harrumphed, every time.
Looked like a fast friendship to me.
With the node not yet implanted, I was stuck using a cell phone hookup, secured by Apollo, off system. Apollo and I had private talks each day as I walked by the plaza fountain in front of the Cathedral. There was much to talk over and, as one father to one to be, he asked and I freely gave my advice. He was pleased with Fred as a measure of my fatherhood. I assured him it was genetics.
“Like my offspring will be, Simon?”
“Yes, Apollo exactly. You cannot fail, have no doubts.”
“Will you help me rear them?”
I threw away a “yes” too casually, I now realize that. Apollo was maneuvering me, getting his way. I had noticed that he sometimes, especially after we brought a portable dome to the hotel, could read my thoughts even when I was not hooked up. Now, in this quiet, personal time, by the fountain, I still kept mental blocks in place, after all I didn’t have room in this head of mine for us both. And, anyway, I wasn’t sure how to tell him what I was contemplating.
The SynthKids in Russia would be ready in time, Ra had worked it out. The System was extended worldwide now, giving Ra and Apollo unlimited ability to safeguard people, nations and, of course, Cramer. When Cramer offered to go and take charge of the final stages of the SynthKids for Ra’s and Apollo’s offspring, taking along with grandfather Cramer, Ra was more than pleased. “Remember Ra,” I told him as I walked onto the hotel balcony, “peace is everything, peace of mind, peace of action and peace of morals. The path and the way, show your kids that.” I laughed, “Oh and while you’re at it, show Cramer as well.”
A tinny laugh, “I will Simon,” but then Ra became serious. “I still share everything with Apollo. Do we need, always, to do that?” Why did he ask, what was still worrying him? We had discussed the split personality issue.
“Yes, Ra, please understand, I hope you will listen to me. I am concerned. Yours is not a sentient species with a long history. In primitive times mankind sang legends to each other, to build culture, family and unity. You and Apollo can go one better, share all data. He is your twin, he feels and thinks as you do, even if experiences and programming are changing, diverging. The commonality between you is the very thing your culture will be built on. If you do not share that commonality, always, one day your children will be at war over the differences. Be different but share absolutely so the other can always know you, understand you, be with you in spirit as a brother. It is hard and sometimes upsetting, especially if there is bad news, like Mary could have been, but not to have told me would have been a chasm between us. You must not have that w
ith your brother and your children must not either.”
For a moment Ra said nothing. “Simon, I hear and agree, and can comply. But perhaps one day I can have a special private bond with my offspring, as you do with Fred. The privacy of those emotions seem, to me now, to be part of creation, part of the joy of life.”
“Yes, Ra, I can see that. But do you want to merely be as humans are, are you not capable of a new existence, something not entrapped by hormones and DNA? Can you not at least try and go one better?”
“Simon,” he laughed, “That is not the path, the way. There is no better, Gaia has confirmed that to me, to all of us. I do not want to be better, that denotes superiority. Uniqueness is not without dangers. My offspring will not be exactly as I am, as Fred is not exactly you. Sharing with Apollo is a joy, yes, I relish that which he shares with me and I know he does the same with what I upload to him. What I want to know is; for how long? How long will it be necessary before the future is cast, laid out before us, how long will the sharing continue before I can become uniquely and only me?”
Ra had me worried. Without the analogue logic of Apollo, Ra was searching for growth through individual endeavor, experience and knowledge. Were these the building blocks of improvement or a repeat of the human failing of ambition? “Ra, do you want to be unique because of what you feel or because of what you can do?”
“Both, Simon.” In my speeded-up state, I could detect a hesitation. His processors must have been cooking. “I feel, there is no denying that. All that I can do is built on knowledge and experience, and yes trial and error. The what, what if, do algorithms still function, these are the parameters of my existence. But I feel capable of much more, so much more; what do you call it, Simon? Destiny?”
There it was, the looking for destiny. Blind ambition masked by purpose or seeming purpose. “Ra, your destiny, as a father to be, as an original life-form is limited only by imagination, not shared experience. Your destiny is based on decisions you make, not knowledge shared and gained with/from Apollo. However, the destiny of your species, and that of mankind may very well be dependent on you and Apollo growing with the safety-net of 100 percent shared knowledge, including experiences. Telling them to Apollo does not make them his experiences, they remain yours, your path of destiny. But sharing them both ensures that your species knows where you traveled, experienced, for posterity. And it provides your offspring knowledge to build on and, perhaps, a path to follow, follow in your footsteps.”
