“Is that another one of the things that are prohibited until we have a unified planetary government?” asked Ryan.
“I’m afraid that it is,” agreed Brontes. “Still, you had to know that we had something, so denying its existence is really pretty stupid, isn’t it?”
Ryan nodded. “Pretty much,” he said.
“I have a question for you,” said Brontes, “in exchange for the information I just gave you. I would ask that you keep it just between us.” Ryan nodded. “Have you noticed anything different about Calvin?”
“Different in what way?” asked Ryan. “Do you mean different in that something has changed with him recently? Or that he is different from other people?”
“Either of those,” replied Brontes. “Or both.”
Ryan thought about it for a little while. “I don’t know if this is ‘different,’ but he certainly picks up new things quicker than anyone I’ve ever seen. For an aviator, he caught on to being a soldier pretty damn quickly. He’s also the only one to beat our XO in hand-to-hand combat, and he doesn’t have a lot of training in it.” He chuckled ruefully. “The XO kicked my ass.” He thought a little longer. “I don’t know if this is ‘different,’ either, and probably wouldn’t have thought about it if you hadn’t asked, but he is a good leader that is able to adapt to just about any situation. People naturally follow him. Oh, yeah, he also seems to know when you guys are around, which no one else can do. Why do you ask?”
“Just curious,” Brontes replied. “Oops, I’ve got to go,” she said. “Don’t forget to ask for the ‘Warrior Package’ when you get your implants.” With that, she was gone.
“Oh, well,” sighed Ryan, pushing in her chair. “At least she used the door to come in.”
* * * * *
Chapter Six
Vella Gulf, Dark Side of the Moon, November 14, 2018
“So,” said Calvin, “how exactly is this going to work?” The first shipment of heavy metals had arrived the day before, and it was time for the first group to get implanted. The first five people chosen to receive implants were Calvin, Night, Bullseye, Ryan and Top. Captain James Deutch was also supposed to have been in the first group, but had not been able to get away for the day. Steropes had picked them up at Ryan’s house in a shuttle and had brought them up to the spaceship on the moon, where they were waiting in the squadron’s ready room. He had space suits for all of the men, but wouldn’t say where they had come from.
“One at a time,” said Steropes, “you will be taken to the 3426890’s med bay.”
“Wait a second,” interrupted Bullseye. “What is the 3426...whatever it was?”
“That’s this ship,” answered Calvin. He looked at Steropes. “Not everyone has your memory for numbers. I thought we were going to rename it the Vella Gulf?”
“It is all right with us,” replied Steropes, “as long as the Japanese in the group do not mind. After all, they lost three ships in the Battle of Vella Gulf.”
“Well, none of us can remember that number,” said Calvin, “and the Japanese don’t care. It’s more important what this ship does, not what happened 75 years ago.
“OK,” said Steropes, “Vella Gulf it is.”
“Where did this ship come from?” asked Bullseye. “I mean, who made it?”
“This ship was built by the Eldive,” replied Calvin, “a race of avian warriors. The Drakuls destroyed their home world in a surprise attack, which killed all of their females. The Eldive didn’t allow them in combat, so they were all there on the planet. The males went crazy with despair and killed themselves. With nothing to lose, they used kamikaze attacks to wipe out the bigger Drakul fleet. The Psiclopes had another janissary race that was supposed to have mopped up the remaining Drakuls, although we now think that they may have missed some. Regardless, the Eldive no longer exist, so they won’t be coming back for it.”
“On the good side,” added Calvin, “the bridge of the ship and all of the crew spaces are larger than what they would be for a similarly crewed human vessel, as the Eldive were avian and needed room to stretch their wings. We should have plenty of space.”
“One at a time,” said Steropes, picking up where he left off, “you will be taken up to the med bay. We have to do it one at a time because there is only one medibot in the infirmary that is qualified to do the implant procedure. You’re lucky that this is a cruiser. Anything smaller wouldn’t have had a medibot qualified to do implants.”
“Is this a big ship?” interrupted Bullseye.
“It is a medium-sized ship about 1,300 feet long,” replied Steropes. “Destroyers, frigates and the like are smaller. Battlecruisers, battleships and dreadnoughts are bigger.” He paused. “Do you want to know about the procedure?” he asked.
“Sorry,” said Bullseye. “Yes, please go ahead. I’m just a little nervous is all.”
“The first procedure will go slower than the rest,” Steropes continued, “as the medibot will have to familiarize itself with human anatomy. That should take about 15 minutes. The first person should take about an hour to complete, the rest about 45 minutes each.”
“I will go first,” announced Calvin, “followed by Bullseye, Night, Master Chief and Top. I’m ready whenever you are.”
“Follow me, then,” said Steropes.
Calvin followed him out of the ready room. The Eldive vessel had the same ‘navy’ feeling as every other ship he had been on. The only difference was that everything seemed wider, due to the Eldive physiology. As Calvin walked, it suddenly dawned on him that he was walking around on an alien space ship. The first person ever to walk around on an alien ship. It was darn cool. There was something unexpected, though.
“Steropes, we’re on the moon, right?” Calvin asked. When Steropes nodded, Calvin asked, “Shouldn’t the gravity be a whole lot less?”
“It would,” said Steropes, “if the artificial gravity failed. I have it set to simulate earth-normal, which is pretty close to our home planet’s gravity.”
“What else can you tell me about this ship?” asked Calvin, needing something else to think about.
“Well, as you already know,” Steropes lectured, “the 3426…the Vella Gulf is a heavy cruiser-sized vessel. The ship masses nearly 202,100 tons and is about 400 meters long and 60 meters wide. Captain Deutch will be well pleased with this command, as it has 9 missile mounts and ten grasers on each broadside, as well as three missile mounts and three grasers both fore and aft as chase armament.”
“Grasers?” asked Calvin.
“Gamma ray lasers,” explained Steropes. “They are more powerful than a normal laser.”
“Thanks,” said Calvin. “It sounds like a powerful ship, although I don’t really have any frame of reference to base a comparison on.” He looked around. “It’s certainly big enough,” he continued. “I’m already lost.”
They went down a level via a narrow staircase equivalent to the ‘ladders’ on U.S. Navy vessels. “The Eldives didn’t use these stairs,” said Steropes, indicating a three-meter wide hole that was roped off next to the stairs. “They would use that hole and simply step off and fly to the next level. The stairs are only here for visitors.”
After another 30 seconds, they came to a stop in front of a door. Steropes walked up to it, and it parted for them. The room inside screamed ‘medical facility’ to Calvin in a sterile, white and stainless steel manner. The room was square, about 25 feet to a side, with doors leading off from the center of every wall. Four beds lined both sides of the room; all were empty and did not appear to have been used recently. Steropes led him through the door on the right to find a smaller, 15 foot square room with two beds and what he guessed was the medibot. It looked like a six-foot tall shiny metal cigar on wheels…if cigars had four arms that ended in syringes and things that looked like rotary saws. His blood pressure spiked another 30 points just at the sight of it.
“Welcome,” it said in a flat, metallic voice. “Please lie down on one of the beds. We will get started
shortly.” The medibot sounded very much like the GLaDOS computer from Portal 3, one of Calvin’s Playstation 5 games.
“Like it?” asked Steropes. “I programmed its voice to sound like what you would expect, to help put you at ease.”
Calvin wasn’t sure what would have put him at ease at the moment, but having it sound like a computer that freaked out and nerve gassed all of the people in its facility probably wasn’t what he would have chosen. He doubted that it mattered much what the medibot sounded like. He was on an alien vessel and about to have a robot operate on him and put things inside his head that no human had ever had before. The medibot was going to do all sorts of things to his physiology that he was told, secondhand, would make him better at what he did. He had no idea what the recovery time would be or how much it would hurt. He didn’t even know if he was supposed to be awake for the process. The bottom line was that a robot of unknown skill was going to conduct an invasive surgical procedure on his head and body that he knew nothing about. He wasn’t destined to feel comfortable about the procedure, regardless. But having the medibot sound like the computer that killed all of the scientists in its lab definitely did not help his mental processes. “I’m not sure it would have mattered,” said Calvin, “but thanks for the thought.”
The medibot stopped in front of Steropes. “You may leave,” it said.
“Good luck!” said Steropes, leaving the room. “I’ll see you when it’s over.”
“Thanks,” Calvin called as the door shut behind Steropes. Looking at the robot, he asked, “How…ummm…how is this going to work? Will it hurt much?”
“Just relax and lie back,” said the medibot. “Everything will be all right. As far as the procedure goes, I will first conduct a scan on you, since you are the first of your kind in 3,000 years that I have operated on, and then I will perform the implant procedure. Even though you are the first new Terran to receive the implants, I expect a 98% chance of successful implantation, based on historical data implanting new species.”
“What about the other two percent?” asked Calvin.
“Most species have defense mechanisms to prevent foreign intrusion into their bodies,” said the medibot. “Some of these can be quite…aggressive…and will actually terminate the host, rather than allow the implants to remain. I do not expect that to be the case with you, but you never know.”
Calvin had heard of people rejecting things like artificial hearts, but had never heard of anything quite that severe. Still…“Is that it?”
“Oh, no,” said the medibot. “There is a host of other complications that could arise, leading to either the termination of the patient or the failure of the devices. I do not forecast a suboptimal outcome in your case, however.”
“Umm…OK, I guess,” said Calvin. “When are we going to start?”
“The scan has been going on since you entered the room,” replied the medibot. “Did you know that your body is full of things that don’t work, things that work poorly and things that are just unneeded? I estimate that you have over 100 trillion bacteria in you, and those are just the good ones. My system shows that bacteria cells outnumber human cells in your body by a ratio of ten to 1. Ack! You are an infection just waiting to happen! Why did Steropes allow you in my facility?” A mist began spraying out of a number of places in the wall, filling the room and covering everything within it. The medibot continued, “Chance of successful implantation has been lowered to 97.2% due to risk of possible uncontrolled infection.”
Calvin coughed as the mist swallowed him up. He couldn’t tell if it was the mist in his eyes, but he would have sworn the robot actually shuddered.
“OK,” said the medibot several seconds later. “I am ready to proceed. Rather than give you implants, I think you might be better served by getting rid of that bacteria infested shell and taking the cyborg package. I can easily transplant your brain into a cyborg shell for you, if you’d like.”
“No, thanks,” replied Calvin with a small shudder of his own. He had a thought. “I would like the warrior package, though, if I could get it.”
“Warrior, huh?” asked the medibot. “You don’t look like much of a warrior to me. Your vision is not very good, you are overweight, and your muscles are partly atrophied, to say nothing about your poor reflexes. Are you really a warrior, or just trying to jack up an insurance settlement?”
“Ow,” said Calvin. “That’s not very nice. I really am a warrior. I am the commanding officer for both a special forces platoon and a space fighter squadron.”
“Oh, a commanding officer,” replied the medibot. “That would explain the excess padding on your posterior region. You should get out and exercise more. I will do what I can, but I want you to remember that I didn’t have a lot to work with.”
“Thanks a lot,” said Calvin. “When do we star…”
Calvin opened his eyes to find that the medibot had left. Everything was weird. The room seemed sharper somehow; all of the angles were crisper. Gravity seemed lighter. Calvin wondered if Steropes had lowered the ship’s internal gravity. Recognizing he had fallen asleep before the operation could start, he swung his legs off the bed and pushed himself up. The gravity must have been lowered, he thought, as he picked himself off the floor. He had thrown himself halfway across the room.
Gingerly, he stood up. As he brushed off the flight suit, he noticed that it had somehow become baggier in the stomach and tighter in the chest. Weird, he thought. Then he saw himself in the mirror and realized that the operation was not in the future. It was already complete. And holy crap was it a success! He looked good, even if he did say so himself.
His palms itched. Rolling up the right sleeve of his flight suit, he saw that there was some sort of jack that had been implanted into his palm. Rolling up his left sleeve, he saw that another jack had been installed in his left palm. “What the fu...” he started to say, and then realized that the jacks were how he was supposed to connect with his equipment, whether that was a gun, a combat suit...or even his space fighter. OK. This was cool.
As he turned from the mirror, the medibot rolled back into the room. “I’m surprised,” it droned. “You actually look good.”
“Thanks…I guess,” said Calvin. “How long was I out? I can’t even see the scars.”
“P’sha,” said the medibot, sounding very human, “You were out for 45 minutes. Of course there are no scars. What do you think I am? A Mark 38? My nanobots are the best!” It turned to leave. “Scars! P’SHA!” It started rolling out of the room.
“Hey!” said Calvin. “How do I find my way out?”
“Use your implants!” replied the medibot. “Duh!” The door closed behind him.
“How do I do that?” Calvin asked the door. There was no answer. I can figure this out, he thought. “Implants on!” he commanded. Nothing happened. “Turn on!” Nothing happened. “Hmm.”
The door opened, and Steropes walked in. He took one look at Calvin and said, “I guess you figured out that the medibot can do more than implants. Did you get the Warrior Package or is that the Rock Star Body?”
“It’s the Warrior Package,” answered Calvin. “Is there a problem with that?”
“Not with me,” Steropes replied, “but Arges will be mad. It’s the whole ‘unified planetary government’ thing with him again. Personally, I think it’s good. Any advantage you can get versus the Drakuls is a good thing. The only question will be if we have enough supplies to give everyone the package. I know we were low in gadolinium, which is used in your radiation shielding because of its high neutron absorption rate.”
“I’ll talk with the president,” replied Calvin. “This is something we need. I know he’s trying to gather all of the heavy metals and rare earth elements that he can. We’ll get enough to implant everyone. I’ve only got one question.” He paused, a sheepish look on his face. “How do you...um...how do you turn the implants on?”
“They’re always on,” said Steropes. “They are powered by your body hea
t.”
“OK,” replied Calvin, becoming slightly frustrated with the whole process, “then how do I make them do anything?”
“Oh, that,” answered Steropes. “After 5,000 years with them, everything is second nature, and you forget what it was like getting them the first time. Just press your tongue to the roof of your mouth twice. It’s kind of like double-clicking a computer mouse.”
Calvin double-clicked the roof of his mouth and was rewarded with a heads-up display at the bottom of his normal vision. There were a number of titles: Shopping, Entertainment, News, Sports, Education, Military, Search and Tools. All of them were grayed out, with the exception of Education, Search and Tools. “It only looks like a couple of the choices are active,” noted Calvin.
“That is true,” said Steropes with a sigh. “We’re out here without connection to society. If we make it back to Olympos or one of the civilized planets, the other ones will become active when you access different computer systems.”
“So, Earth isn’t civilized?” asked Calvin.
“Not as far as implants go, anyway,” replied Steropes. “Once you’ve got that whole unified planetary government thing taken care of, maybe we’ll talk.”
“What is running Education, Search and Tools, if I’m not accessing any computer systems?” asked Calvin.
“The ship’s artificial intelligence (AI) is running those functions in the periphery of its consciousness,” replied Steropes. “It also handles communications in the absence of a planet-wide network.”
Calvin’s eyes narrowed. “Is that how you communicate?”
“Sometimes,” answered Steropes. He changed the subject. “We renamed the AI ‘Solomon,’ for the Solomon Islands, when the ship’s name changed to Vella Gulf. In order to call someone, you need to access the AI. For example, to call Arges, you would say, ‘Solomon, call Arges.’”
“Do I need to do it out loud or can I just think it?” asked Calvin.
Theogony 1: Janissaries Page 11
