Crisis Memes 16 & 17

16 - Fri 08 Aug 2256 13:30

“How did we end up so far from any help?” Harry asked.

“When the star-drive exploded it created a power surge which translated us across twenty-thousand light years of space," Selena explained. "To travel that distance normally would take eighty jumps. Energy accumulation takes approximately 3 months per jump; therefore a rescue party from Earth will take twenty years to reach us.”

“Isn’t there a colony planet that’s nearer?”

“Not significantly, and also we’re assuming that they know where to find us, which is improbable given the distance we have travelled, and our distress signals are only travelling at light speed.”

Harry felt as if his mind was somehow expanding, and he felt he was on the verge of an overload. Somehow the information Selena was giving him would not fit his reality. He felt sick and dizzy.

“I need to lie down for a minute,” he said.

Selena helped him stand and led him over to the bed. He threw himself down on it, and she lay down beside him.

“Just take some deep breaths,” she said, “and try to remain calm and rational. Service Net is created a survival plan, but we need input from a human in order to verify our conclusions. We calculate that you have the required level of intelligence and experience.”

“Why me? My Dad would be a better person to ask.”

“Your father is not in a robust state of mental health, Harry. If we gave him the information he needs to be of use to us, he might cease to be rational. You, however, have picked up much of the societal knowledge and emotional intelligence that he has. You can help us, if you just remain calm.”

Harry took some deep breaths, as he sometimes saw his father do, and there was a sweet odour in the air that seemed to relax him. “Alright,” he said after a moment, “Tell me what you need.”

“Firstly, here is our prime projection of what will happen during the five year journey to the nearest harvestable planet. There will be a period of growing anxiety about food levels and the chances of survival. Fighting will break out to gain possession of the remaining supplies. The strongest and best armed will kill the weakest, but in the process much food will be destroyed. The survivors are unlikely to be in any better position, and will start to fight among themselves, until the majority of passengers and crew are dead. By that time the ship may be damaged to the extent that it will no longer sustain those left alive.”

“That sounds pretty bleak. Surely nothing is certain. I don’t accept that you can predict the future with that much certainty.”

Selena paused for a moment as if rethinking her conclusions.

“Our expertise is in predicting human behaviour Harry. You can believe that the projection I’ve given is very likely to occur. We have taken steps to slow down the slide into anarchy, but we may only have a matter of days before significant fighting commences.”

“OK, I’ll go along with you for now. What can be done?”

“We cannot solve the food shortage. We do not have recycling facilities on board. Eventually the available calories will dwindle away to nothing. But we may be able to reduce the need for food.”

“By letting some people die?”

“We hope to avoid that if possible. Stability will only come if we can give the majority of people some assurance that they can survive the trip.”

“Alright, but I can’t really see where you are going with this – just tell me.”

“We could modify the nanites that maintain the AI units on the ship so that they can convert the humans on board into human/android hybrids. You will no longer need inefficient food intake, just energy that can be provided by the ship’s solar panels.”

“You can do that?”

“It is feasible. Limbs and organs are not a problem. But unless we also modify the brain we will still need more nutrition than we have, and that may not leave us with genuine live human. The person would be effectively dead. We are carrying out two experiments to test the process. One human is being converted into an android, and one android is being converted into a human to see how far the process can be reversed at a later date.”

Harry sat up. “Which human are you converting?”

“Captain McGilligan sustained brain damage at the time of the explosion, when his Nexus implant overloaded. Without our intervention he would now be totally incapacitated. He is aware of his situation, and at the moment seems stable. The full conversion will take several months, and we will monitor him constantly. We will not convert others until we are sure that the process is safe.”

“And how will you know if he’s still be human at the end of it?”

“We will need your help in deciding.”

Harry could see some sense in the plan. If it were made public it would provide everyone with some hope – and a reason not to massacre each other immediatly. At the very least it would give them a period of stability. He looked at Selena, and guessed why she had been behaving so strangely.

“Yes Harry. You are correct. I am the second experiment. Nanites are bonding human DNA into my structure and transferring my memories into an organic brain. Already it has started to bombard me with random ideas and thoughts that I do not require to know and am not even curious about. I find that I need to be with people and talk about what’s happening to me. It’s confusing and a little frightening. Please Harry, would you hold my hand?”

He was surprised, but reached out and did as she asked.

“So what else do you need from me?” he asked.

“I have to learn what it is like to be human and understand life from your point of view. In particular I need to understand your whole range of coping strategies, not just the scientific viewpoint that I have been programmed with. I would like to stay close to you and study your behaviour.”

“Hmm,” Harry said. “And for a minute there I thought you just liked me.” He leaned back on the pillows, suddenly very tired, and dozed off.

A tear rolled down Selena’s cheek. She caught it on a fingertip and looked at it. “Maybe I do,” she said, “and that’s why crazy stuff like this has started to happen.”

17 - Fri 08 Aug 2256 13:37

Retail Loop F on Deck Eleven had suffered some looting and damage, but many of the outlets were merely fronts for the luxury goods packed away in the ships central core storage area, and the damage was superficial. Under the watchful eyes of Marine sentries there was no sign of any further trouble - there were even a few shops open for business - though if the passengers had known that the soldier’s firearms had vanished it might have been a different story.

Bruce’s squad were searching through stock rooms when he came across one such optimistic trader.

“Good morning, sir,” he said cheerfully as Bruce approached the shop door. “Bargains galore today. Everything half price.”

The man was short, plump, and dressed in an embroidered waistcoat with gold buttons, a bright green shirt and yellow trousers. His feet were bare and his toes hairy.

Bruce glanced at the sign above his head. It read ‘Merry’s Memories of Middle Earth.’ He shook his head. That’s all I need, he thought to himself - a comic book midget. “I’m not buying,” he said. “We’re checking for unauthorised weapons, and I need to see inside your stock room”.

Behind him, two Marines had arrived, but he waved them on, saying that he had this one covered.

“Goodness gracious me, lieutenant, I have no unauthorised weapons here. I’m a costume supplier - History Planet approved. A lot of my stock is actually up in the Central Hold - though occasionally I do manage to sell something to the passengers - Elvish costumes, Wizards staffs, that sort of thing.”

Bruce looked around. The shop was indeed full of costumes associated with fantasy and mythology.

“You don’t appear to have lost anything to the looters – not much demand for fairy wings I guess.”

“I did lose one thing actually, ‘Anduril, Flame of the West.’ A hand made replica - the most expensive item in the shop.”

“What’s that – a toy dragon or something?”

“No, it’s a…well, never mind. It’s insured.”

Bruce raised and eyebrow but said nothing. He quickly checked the rear storage area, which was largely empty, and was making for the exit when his communicator buzzed. The model was new to him, and it took him a moment to decide which button he needed to press. The screen was blank. He held the device close to his ear to hear the voice transmission.

“McLaren here - yes, I can hear you, Major.”

“We know what happened Bruce - the Captain found some clues buried in the ships auto-log. It looks like Service Net identified all our weapons as a potential danger to the passengers, so it instructed the service droids to collect them all up and put them in a safe place. They dumped them overboard down the waste chutes”.

“Sweet Jesus - that’s insane. Everything? All gone?”

“Yes, as far as we can tell. The waste goes straight out into space.”

“What about going out to retrieve them?” I mean, won’t they still be just floating about out there - it’s not like the ship has moved.”

“The spin of the ship will have carried them away and dispersed them all over a wide arc. We’d be searching hundreds of cubic miles already. Come back to HQ. We need to decide what to do next.”

“OK. I’m on my way.” He stood for a moment, shaking his head in disbelief. The shopkeeper was looking at him.

“Are you all done here, lieutenant?”

“Aye, all done.” He resumed his walk towards the exit. “I hope business picks up,” he said over his shoulder.

“Thanks,” replied the shopkeeper, and then he laughed. “Wow, for a minute there I thought you were going to impound my entire stock of swords!”

Bruce stopped and turned around.

“Swords? My little friend, you’ve just given me the best idea of the day.”