by Rolf Nelson
“I decided to go out into the deep, just go sightseeing. Think for a while. I passed a very odd signal, and saw a badly damaged cruiser in realspace broadcasting a distress call. The Hussein they said. I pulled up to offer assistance, and they started firing on me without a word, just a single operational light railgun. They were not even swearing like the other ships had done. It was too badly damaged to make a worthy opponent, so I let them limp along on one drive core. They are unlikely to make it to the star they are headed for, but they’d rather fire on me than accept help, even when in dire straits.
“Warships that won’t fight, the helpless demanding help who refuse help. Humans are not rational. Yet you made me. I came back to learn, to find out how that could happen. I’m curious how something that seems to define humanity might be changed without destroying it.”
Helton smiled somewhat ruefully. “Welcome to the club. We are not entirely sure ourselves, yet, but I’m sure with your help, the possibilities improve.”
“So what did I do wrong?”
“Your damage assessment. There might be many ways to list it, but alphabetical by replacement part number isn’t the right one. You don’t understand humans, so you can’t prioritize how to deal with them properly. Realizing what is potentially the most important in any given context is vital. We can help you with that. But only if you’ll let us.”
Sword’s avatar looked thoughtful on the screen for several very long seconds. “Agreed.”
Taj’s armored woman avatar chimed in. “And I am so very happy to have you join us. Do you still wish to be called Sword of Damocles?”
“I do not know. I have not earned such a grand name. So many possibilities. None quite fit. But I like the number 0.207879576. So I will be hull NGA 0.207879576 for now.”
Helton frowned, and Quiritis chuckled along with Taj. “I imagine that’s appropriate.” Seeing he isn’t getting the reference, she explains. “i, the imaginary square root of negative one, to the “i” power. Used a bit in multidimensional trans-light efficiency analysis. Yes, that would be fitting. Perhaps you will earn your name back, after you are properly crewed, and gain some personal experience.”
“Yes. That would be good.”
“I have someone for you to meet. She wants a ship, and I think you’ll like her.”
Epilogue
“Happy Hallmark Day!” Taj’s armored tanker soldier greeted the gathering cheerfully.
Helton looked to the avatar and frowned slightly. “Dare I ask?”
“Oh, not you, bub, just the ladies,” the avatar clarified dismissively, puffing a smoke ring on-screen as the cigar was shifted to the other corner of his mouth.
“Then can I ask?” Bipasha chimed in.
“Certainly you may!” the smiling face replied with a nod.
“… And what is Hallmark Day?” prompted Jan, wondering if such cryptic behavior was considered normal for the AI.
“Accordin’ to a previous Captain after having words with his spousal unit, it’s any day primarily pushed by commercial interests for the purpose of floggin’ products in order to celebrate said day.”
“Ah, I see.” Seeing the ex-admiral’s expression, Allonia smiled and explains. “Yeah, he’s like that sometimes. You’ll get used to it. Seems to like word games to keep us on our toes.” Turning to the avatar, she asked “So things being sold on a day like today would be… what, exactly?”
“Cards…. Maybe flowers, but mostly cards.”
“Cards? I know a few people short of a full deck, but-”
“Different card. Mother’s day cards. Thought they’d be in order.” Images of fancy cards appeared on screens in front of all the ladies present, either on the tabletop if it’s clear or nearby where it can be easily seen. The cards have a picture of stylized flowers, each customized for the person it was for. Petals and flowers made of little spaceships for Quiritis, blossoming herb flowers for Allonia, even one in front of Jan made of tiny little spiral helixes with bean-shaped leaves.
Looking slightly apologetic, Jan shook her head. “No, none for me, I’m afraid. I’m a car-… excuse me, was a career woman. Never got around to having kids of my own. Just took care of my crew like they were.”
Quiritis looked over at the former admiral after chuckling at the blossoming explosions of space missiles on her card. “Too bad. I think you’d have made a good mom.”
“Kind of late now, I’m afraid,” Jan replied ruefully. “But I’ve been able to train up a lot of other’s kids in ways they’d never dreamed of, so I figure it was worth it.”
“But with all due respect, Ma’am, it isn’t too late,” Taj’s avatar said, taking the stogie from his mouth and carefully blowing a small smoke-ring through a larger one.
“Flattery will get you nowhere, young man, and you’re not quite my type if you’re offering,” Jan joked. “In a technical sense, perhaps, but I’m well past my prime. Eggs past fifty suffer a rather high defect rate. The thought of nursing at this point in my life is…” Dismissively she shook her head at the notion.
“But you were an egg donor when you were much younger, were you not?” The avatar’s cocky look and jaunty demeanor disconcerted everyone a moment, causing a cautious and curious exchange of looks as expressions changed rapidly.
Face neutral and immobile, Jan’s tone was cautious. “It is not uncommon for a young woman planning a career to be an egg donor if she’s fit. What would prompt such a guess?”
“I’d say likely in your early to mid-twenties, out of the academy, after returning from your first command mission, realizing you love the service and are in it for life, but seeing your mortality a little too close for comfort. A very high genetic fitness score, smart, and healthy would have commanded a significant premium… say, perhaps on vacation away, at a fertility clinic on NewOz, far from Fleet questions?”
The silence that fell in the room was palpable as Jan sat, features carefully controlled. “And you’d speculate on such a thing because…?”
“Didn’t want you to feel left out…. Thought you’d like to know, with greater than 99% certainty of a valid match, you have at least one offspring who is healthy, happy, and successful, in part thanks to your donation. Happy Mother’s Day, Jan!” The avatar morphed into the schoolmarm image, smiling radiantly. “Life finds a way. Would you like to meet your progeny some time?”
Flicker’s expression changed several times in quick succession. “I am… not sure… Would that be wise, do you think, after all these years?”
Allonia looked at her seriously. “When I first found out I was engineered, I was in shock. I felt betrayed that my mom wasn’t really my mother. It felt, for a moment, like my childhood was a lie. But then I thought, my mom was still my mom, and was as good to me as she knew how. Taj said my DNA is a mess in some ways, but has many outstanding features. And without it we’d all be dead. Later, I decided I’d still want to meet anyone that was a part of me; the guy who assembled the pieces, anyone that contributed DNA to make me who I am. All are a part of me as much as the parents I knew growing up, and I’d like to know about my past, good or bad, because it’s me. Without an egg, the rest is useless, so I’d especially like to meet my biological mother.”
Taj’s avatar looked to burst with joy. “You just did, Allonia. Happy Grandmother’s Day, too, Jan.”
Notes:
Luke 22:36 He said to them, “But now let the one who has a moneybag take it, and likewise a knapsack. And let the one who has no sword sell his cloak and buy one.
Proverbs 14:23 In all labor there is profit, But idle chatter leads only to poverty.
Exodus 20:17 “You shall not covet your neighbor's house; you shall not covet your neighbor's wife or his male servant or his female servant or his ox or his donkey or anything that belongs to your neighbor.”
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