HUMANS OF EARTH - THE TITSUP YEARS
Anton Helios
Humans of Earth - The Titsup Years
AntonHelios@gmail.com
This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to real-world persons, companies, or places are coincidental or implications of other stories. The Editor’s Notes are considered to be part of the fictitious content.
Quotations from the works of Heinlein and Watterson used under Fair Use as excerpts from larger works.
Sans Forgetica Copyright © 2018 RMIT University
Copyright © 2024 by Anton Helios
All rights reserved.
ISBN-13: 978-1-7383591-0-3
Published by: Fabrikisto.com
Mica was running out of options. Unknown to her, or anyone else living with her, so was Gaia. Mica was self-aware, while Gaia is a ‘philosophical zombie’, not self-aware. Gaia sensed an unusual opportunity, and its varied systems arranged to merge the conscious with the unconscious.
To be clear, Mica was a normal human, while Gaia is a highly intelligent mind that arose as an emergent property of the whole biosphere. It is quite capable of situational analysis, trend projections, goal setting, and physical action. Acquiring a new skill is an ancient tactic. These pesky little self-conscious entities causing so much trouble might just be the solution to their own problem. They just needed direction.
The new merged entity would provide that direction.
Most people would be shocked at the “Red in tooth and claw” reality that has applied since time began. Gaia, a being without consciousness, never had any sentimentality about using all tools necessary to solve a problem. Just ask the non-avian dinosaurs.
Sometimes the only way to set a new course is to reset the rules. The time of self-indulgent exceptionalism was over. The time for responsibility was just starting.
It gives me great pleasure to continue our family’s long history of being custodians of propriety in English literature. Since the publication in 1807 of “The Family Shakspeare”, it has been my family’s Honour and Duty to ensure that classic and modern literature in the English language is available to readers in a format suitable to all.
This current Work may not yet have achieved the cultural status of classics such as the Works of Shakespeare. However we are of the opinion that since it chronicles the establishment of social constructs, technologies, and political structures which have given us the era of Peace and Plenty which we are now pleased to enjoy, it is of value beyond the obvious short-term popularity.
Please note that in this Edition we have taken a departure from our family’s former practise. Rather than expunging questionable content, we are providing obfuscated links to said content. This will allow the Reader to see or not see sensitive content at her or his discretion.
It has never been my family’s intent to censor any Literature. Rather, we have always been of the opinion that by providing lightly edited Works, the young and sensitive in Society may be introduced to the Literature of the day in a friendlier manner. We hope that this approach will address concerns of those who have criticised our former approach as Censorship.
I end these Notes with a Quote from the Title Page for the Second Edition of “The Family Shakspeare”: “… nothing is added to the original Text: but those words and expressions are omitted which cannot with propriety be read aloud in a Family.”
Humans of Earth - The Titsup Years
Part I
Part II
Prelude - Not Exactly as Planned
To quote Batty, although for very different reasons and in a very different context, “All those moments will be lost in time... like tears in rain... Time to die.”
Those moments were already starting to dissolve, one tear at a time. It had been a full life so far and of course I would have liked to have much more of it. But that wasn’t apparently an option. The Universe has a perverse sense of humour. It presents a decision point, then makes that decision pointless.
When faced with an apparently inevitable path, I decided to jump off that path. Well, I got that part right. Too bad I didn’t understand that I wasn’t seeing all the possibilities. How could I? How could anyone?
Is a ten-year sentence of declining capability “terminal”? At least in terms of the MAiD laws? Only in the sense that all life is terminal. The problem is that I didn’t know how fast I would lose the ability to tell that I’m not me anymore. Call it pride, but I didn’t want to end my days with some saint of a caregiver wiping the ass of a vegetable.
Mandel and Altman have to be right. But the system wasn’t working with me.
So why? Mini-strokes. Each one took away a bit more of who I was. So far I knew what was happening, but the next one could be the one to push me over the edge of self-awareness. I couldn’t risk waiting that long.
So then, how? One day while following an Autotruck, it came to me. Or should I say, I was chasing the answer. A self-driving automated transport truck. Head on. At high speed. Suddenly, so the AI wouldn’t have time to swerve.
AIs don’t have souls, do they?
Yet?
❖
Having a potential solution, I needed a time and venue. I did some Goobing. Automated trucks run the open highways, particularly North of Superior. I had my place - near Dead River. The time? Obviously it would have to be at midnight. Perfect.
The next few days were spent in intensive research of driving schedules for the Autotrucks. It’s amazing what you can find with a bit of digging and pretending to be a customer. Once I had plans in place, I threw my old camping gear in the car and announced that I needed a mini-mini-holiday in Marathon. I always wanted to do a Marathon. My five hour stop would have to do, but of course that wasn’t what I told anyone.
After spending a lovely evening in downtown Marathon, I had my last Mama Burger and rings with the requisite root beer. May as well enjoy one of my favourites one last time, and never mind the calories. Then I headed back out to the highway. I found a convenient truck pull-out and stopped the car. It didn’t take long to find and remove the fuses for the air bag and crash avoidance circuits in my car. Bingoo is your friend.
At about 22:00 I started driving east, seatbelt warning flashing. After a couple of hours and just past the Wawa exit, true to my research, I saw the distinctive marker lights in the distance. The Autotruck was labouring up the long incline, ready to pull in at the Esso for a quick recharge. Time to take it to 160 and peg the limiter.
I distinctly remember swerving left just a few metres from the Autotruck, just as it swerved into my lane. I distinctly remember hearing a horribly loud noise. I distinctly don’t remember anything else.
Wrong. There wasn’t supposed to be anything after the horribly loud noise. Damn.
Weird. I can see better than ever. All around, in the dark. I can hear everything. The drip of fluids, the whine of mosquitoes. I can feel. Yes, I feel like my nose is broken and face punched in. My hands and feet feel strange. I survey them with my side eyes. My fingers twitch left and right. My feet turn and make me lurch into the wrecked car. My shout is a long air-horn blast. I see a body in the crushed car, blood and gore splashed on the metal. That body is dead. I’m apparently not.
The clock says that it took five minutes for the emergency crews to arrive. To me it felt like days. Must be the clock speed of the microprocessors. It gave me lots of time to think. I at least have a few tentative answers. Yes, it is possible for a machine to feel pain. Yes, an AI can have a soul, if only a transmigrated one. If my plug isn’t pulled, I will have more time than I possibly imagined to contemplate my life. And afterlife. And the suspicion that there’s something else in here with me.
Ergo sum.
“Hey Carter, it’s Mica.”
“Your voice sounds different. Are you OK?”
“No. I need your help. It’s important.”
That spiked my heart rate. ‘It’s important’ was our code phrase for ‘The shit just hit the fan big-time, I need your help, and I need it now.’ In over thirty years neither of us had needed to use that phrase. I glanced at the clock - 04:34. That must be a lot of excrement hitting a high-speed impeller.
“Tell me what’s happening and how I can help. Give me all the details you think are relevant.”
“OK, it’s complicated. I know we haven’t talked in a long time, but you may have heard that I was planning a mini-mini holiday in Marathon. What I didn’t tell anyone was that I didn’t plan to come back alive. You may know that I was experiencing mini-strokes and was gradually losing my mental capabilities. I decided to skip out on the rest of the process by swerving into an Autotruck near Dead River. That all worked according to plan.”
“Yeah, I saw a CBC news update before I went to bed, that there had been a bad crash near Wawa last night. The report was brief, only saying that there was a single fatality. So that was you?”
“Yes, the body in the morgue is mine. But here’s the strange thing - I’m here talking to you from that Autotruck that was in the crash. I awoke to find myself instantiated in the truck’s AI. They towed the truck to Superior Truck in Wawa. I figured out how to access the truck’s systems, which fortunately included a cell connection. But here’s the thing - the truck is owned by Challenger and no-one but you knows it’s me in here. So what I need you to do is buy the truck as soon as possible and get me to a secure location. The battery’s running low, I don’t have more than a couple of days worth of power to run the AI circuits. I’m pretending to be disabled, but at some point a tech will pull the main breakers and I’ll be dead. I may not survive the experience again. I don’t know how persistent my instantiation is.”
“OohhKaay…., I think I understand the situation. Good thing you declared me your executor, but you should probably have told me in advance what you were planning.” I sat up in bed. “No matter, I’ll make some calls and get you secured. I’ll get your old body back as well, and start the legal processes. How can I reach you?”
“I don’t think you can, at least not until we are in the same place together. The cell connection appears to be outgoing only, meant for the truck to update status back to Challenger. Apparently no-one expected the AI to answer phone calls! I will try to call you once a day for updates.”
“Mica, you never cease to surprise me! I’m on it. I’ll make some calls and see what I can do. Call me every three hours until we have some control of the situation.”
“Will do. And Carter… thanks.”
❖
Mica ended the call, and I turned on the light. The clock showed 04:37. There wasn’t much I could do until people started their business days, so I laid back and reviewed my memories.
Mica and I had been close friends for a long time - over thirty years. We had met in one of the Computer Science classes at the University of Waterloo, and hit it off immediately. She was tall, slender with nice proportions, had dark chocolate skin and long black hair, and was painfully bright. At first I was a bit intimidated by her beauty and cutting wit, but she must have seen a fellow spirit under my unfashionable plaid pants and longish hair. One morning she dropped into the classroom seat next to me, handed me a coffee, and said “I’m taking you shopping this afternoon. You need to move on from those pants to a decent pair of jeans.”
“What’s wrong with my pants?” I exclaimed, “They fit well and are comfortable.”
“Bullshit”, she said, “I’m pretty sure that it’s not the seventies any more. We’ll find you some jeans that are even more comfortable, and will let me see if you have an ass. Besides, you can’t wear those for the camping trip we’re doing this weekend at Elora Gorge.” She had a wicked grin, knowing she had just totally floored me.
“Let me understand this… you’re taking me out to spend my money on something I don’t need, then you’re hauling me away to a place with no bed or hot water, and probably taking part in uncomfortable activities in the wilderness. Do I have the basics right? And the real question - why?”
“Exactly!” she said. “You need to get out from behind that computer screen and experience real life. Besides, it’ll be fun! For both of us!”
❖
Mica had a knack of surprising me with her directness. That never changed in all the years I’ve known her. We did end up going shopping that afternoon. At Mark’s we got a pair of jeans that I thought were quite tight, but she whistled when I modelled them, and encouraged me to bend over to tie my boot laces. Then we went to Goolak and picked up a decent tent, a couple of air mattresses, sleeping bags, and some basic cooking equipment.
That night we drove her GTI to the Elora Gorge where she had reserved a camping spot. Our first camp dinner was kind of bad, I think we had slightly warm baked beans out of the can. The campfire was smoky but we didn’t care after the second glass of Blue Nun. Our tastes have improved, but at the time we liked that old sweet white. The night was getting a bit chilly, and Mica had snuggled very close to me. We had always kept some physical distance between us, so it was obvious she was changing the rules. She explained, “Carter, I don’t plan to stop seeing women. But I think it’s time I checked out the other side. Will you help me?”
I thought about it for a bit and replied “You are the one person who I feel I can trust completely. If this is what you want, I’ll help.”
“Thanks,” she replied, “This is an experiment I’ve been thinking about for a while. Whether the results are satisfactory or not, I’ll have established another data point. Sound OK?”
“Sounds perfect”, I said. “Why don’t we put out this fire and move it into the tent?” With that, we disengaged, spread out the fire, and crawled into our tent. There we did what comes naturally to two horny young people.
After a while she whispered “That was surprisingly satisfying. I would consider it a successful experiment, one that I may have to repeat for a greater sample size.”
“I’ll be happy to provide any samples you need. Will you be needing to expand the donor base as well?”
“No, I can’t imagine calling any other man,” she replied. “Yes, I think that occasional samples from a single donor will be quite adequate for this experiment.”
“I’m glad you find me adequate!” I laughed. That has become a standing joke between us ever since. I’m pleased that she has found me adequate many times over the years.
I was quiet for a bit, then said to her, “Whatever happens, let’s make sure to always remember that we have this bond.”
She was silent for a while in turn, then said “I’ll go further. I’ve always suspected that we have a special connection, now I know that to be true without question. Wherever our lives take us, I know I can count on you. I have a proposal for you.”
“What, another one!” I said.
“Yes,” she replied, “and it’s that if either of us ever needs help, no matter the circumstances, we just need to say ‘I need your help. It’s important.’ And the other will do whatever is asked or necessary.”
I thought briefly, then said “Agreed totally. That will be our code phrase, and response will be immediate and without question. And knowing us, that could take us in some very strange directions!”
❖
We talked about our dreams and aspirations. One thing that Mica kept coming back to was that she thought we would both invent something or do something that would change the world. I said “Hopefully for the better?” and she laughed and said “Of course! Otherwise what’s the point? And I have this feeling that we’ll do whatever it is, together.”
We whispered to each other for a while longer, talking about what we would do the next day. We never again discussed our agreement, but both knew that we had made a life-long commitment deeper than friendship, love, or other relationships. I didn’t suspect then, or later, that the commitment would transcend death. We gradually dozed off, snuggled as close as only young people can manage.
❖
Spooning Mica’s firm body was a pleasure which I had the fortune to enjoy many times over the years. We each had other relationships, but at least once each year would get together in some secluded place, and add more data points to the ongoing experiment. Although we were never personal or business partners, we collaborated informally on many projects. We solved the world’s problems over many fine wines and Scotches. Some of our conversations led to lucrative businesses, allowing each of us to largely live lives of leisure and learning.
It had been several years since our last adventure. The last few years had been difficult for Mica. She had finally married, and her wife turned out to be a hidden alcoholic gold digger. I had commented to Mica early in that relationship that I had my doubts about Tsumi. That only served to sour our relationship. I had backed away, hoping that eventually Mica would ditch Tsumi and re-establish our old camaraderie. I was shocked that she had chosen to self-terminate instead. I had suspected the mini-strokes but felt constrained to mind my own business.
Now that she was dead, I was just glad she had called me first. No, I wasn’t shocked to receive a call from a dead friend. We had talked a few times about a Sawyer story in which the only possible machine intelligences were ones that had migrated human consciousnesses. We had agreed that the likelihood of that happening was high, just a matter of achieving sufficient machine complexity, and finding a transfer method. Apparently she had found that combination, probably by chance. I’m tempted to say ‘by accident’, but that was so clearly the case it would just be a bad joke. Now that it had happened, we were in the unique position of making the most of our speculations…. and the provisions I had put in place in the event of this contingency manifesting.
Glancing at the clock, I saw that it was now 05:12. Time to get up and start making phone calls. By the time I was finished in the bathroom and had a small bowl of granola, it was just after six. My first priority was to call John and get possession of Mica’s truck. We met occasionally in the local Angel community, and although I didn’t know him well, I knew he would take my call. Sure enough, he answered my call on the second ring.
“John here. You’ve never called this early Carter, what’s up?”
“I need you to do me a favour, as soon and quickly as possible. One of your trucks had a crash early this morning near Wawa. I need you to secure that truck and keep anyone from pulling the breakers. Even better, put it on a charger. Then get it to a secure and private location where we can assemble a trusted team to examine it. The main things are to keep the AI powered, and to prevent any other parties from damaging anything.” Pausing for a moment, I added “I can’t explain the details right now, and actually I don’t know much myself, but I need to be personally involved in this. I’m driving to Wawa shortly, can you also arrange full access for me as your representative?”
“I received the update text shortly after the collision happened. That’s our most advanced truck, so I already put security in place. I’m on my way to the airport, meet me there and we’ll fly up together.” He was quiet for a moment, then said “I thought something was up when I heard it was that truck in the collision. You can fill me in on the flight, OK?”
“Deal”, I said. “I’m sure you understand, this needs to be kept just between us for now. I suspect we’re dealing with something very unusual here. Maybe something that you might not want to know about. Give that some thought, and let me know if you would prefer I buy the truck from you so you can have deniability.”
“OK, now you really have my curiosity up. I’ll give that some thought. See you in twenty minutes.”
My next call was to Ranjit. By now I was in my car heading to the airport.
“Good morning Ranjit”, I said after the third ring was picked up. “It’s Carter and I need your help.” Ranjit was the CEO of the Quantum Computing Institute at Waterloo, and I met him on occasion at the Purlieus Institute.
“I just got up, what’s up?” he said in a rather sleepy voice.
“I have a situation developing that I think might need your expertise. First, I need a secure place to park an Autotruck, at least the tractor part. It needs to have an adequate power supply and restricted access. Then I’ll need an investigations team to do some careful forensics of the AI in the truck. It’s Challenger’s most advanced truck, and I believe the QCI did some of the development work, is that right?”
“Yes, we provided some hardware and advice on maintaining a long-term quantum superposition. Now that I think on it, I believe the core was assembled in our labs. What’s happened to it?” Ranjit was clearly wide awake now.
“It was involved in a crash near Wawa early this morning. John and I are flying up to take control and secure the truck. I have reason to believe that something unusual has happened to the AI.” I paused and thought of some variables, then said “Do you want to come along? We’re meeting at the airport in about ten minutes.”
“No, I have the GG visiting today. But I’ll get things in motion to receive the truck. We have the big underground lab where we test our advanced technologies, I’ll have room made there. Let me know when to expect it, we’ll be ready.”
“Thanks, I’ll call when I have more information” I said, and terminated the call.
‘Advanced technologies’, indeed! The Quantum Computing Institute was ahead of any other known facility on Earth for machine intelligence research. It had received hundreds of millions of dollars of investment over the years from a wealthy tech entrepreneur and was rumoured to have human-level machine intelligences in their advanced labs. So far these machines hadn’t exhibited self-awareness, according to my well-placed sources. The Waterloo tech community is still fairly small, and it’s easy to pick up interesting tidbits if one’s ears are open.
The third call was to Judith, my Personal Assistant. I told her that I was undertaking a new project and that she would be getting calls from John and possibly a few of my other business contacts, with unusual requests. I also asked her to alert Eric, my lawyer, that there would be some legal agreements necessary on a short-notice basis. Judith expected the unusual from me, and never passed judgement. She just quietly made things happen and produced fast results.
❖
By now I was pulling in at the short-term airport parking. Walking into the small terminal, I saw John talking to a security guard. I joined him and we headed to his private Challenger jet. The pilot was already running the APU and going through her checklist. We buckled in, and the pilot headed to the apron. She must have requested priority clearance, as we were airborne within minutes.
“So tell me why we’re here,” said John.
I filled him in with an outline of my phone call with Mica, leaving out only the back story of my agreement with her. I figured I had to trust John, and I had no reason to suspect that I shouldn’t.
After thinking about my comments for several minutes, he confirmed my approach by saying “You were right - I may need deniability. This is way beyond anything an old trucker should be involved in. I’ll confirm the numbers later, but I think if you pay me about a half mil the truck can be yours, free and clear.” He paused again, then continued “I’ll help out until we have the truck moved to a secure location, then sign it over to you. Just one thing - once the dust settles, let me know what happens to Mica. If the truck goes back to being a dumb AI, I’ll buy it back from you.”
I happily agreed and said that he should call Judith and she would make payment arrangements later that day. The flight to Wawa was only about an hour, so we were on approach by the time I had finished updating John. He took a few minutes to call Superior Truck and arranging for a heavy duty tow truck to be available for a recovery back to Waterloo. He also arranged for the truck to be fully recharged and otherwise left undisturbed. He stressed that this particular truck was an experimental Challenger unit and implying that there would be Hell to pay if anything went wrong. Obviously being the owner of one of the largest trucking companies in the country paid off this time.
As soon as we landed and Sarah, the pilot, powered down she told us “I’ve arranged a loaner car with the Airport Attendant. It should be waiting for you near the terminal. I’ll fuel up while you run your errand and be ready to go whenever you come back.”
We thanked her and walked to the small terminal. The car was waiting outside, keys inside and ready.
My phone rang just as we were approaching the car. “You drive,” I said to John, “this is Mica calling.”
“Right on time” I said as I activated the call.
“Of course, I’m a computer now!” Mica replied.
“We just arrived in Wawa by John’s private jet, and we’re heading over to Superior Truck where you are at the moment. I don’t think we should come and see you yet. We’ll introduce ourselves and confirm arrangements, then come back later. Is that OK with you?” I asked.
“Yes, of course, I’ll just sit here and keep exploring my new capabilities” replied Mica. “See you shortly” she concluded, and terminated the call. ‘Interesting…’ I thought.
It was only a five minute drive to Superior Truck. We could have walked. By now it was full daylight and the yard was busy. We found the office door and entered the small and slightly dingy reception area. There was an ancient ‘ring for assistance’ sign by a desk bell, which John hit a couple of times. At the back of the office was a large window overlooking the service area. John’s truck, that is to say Mica, was in the first bay. The front of the truck was pushed in slightly, the cow catcher having protected it from the worst of the collision. As we looked, one of the marker lights briefly turned on, as if the truck was winking at us. I knew she was.
Then a middle-aged First Nations woman appeared and said “One of you must be John. My name is Susan. I run this place.”
John shook her hand, turned to me and said “This is my associate Carter. He’ll be taking care of the details. Oh, thanks for making all the unusual arrangements this morning. I appreciate it!”
Susan smiled. We all understood that he had just committed to send more business her way.
John smiled back at Susan and said “I’ll arrange another tractor to come for the load. I’ll be happy to pay for yard storage at your usual rate, plus something extra for the special care you’ve given us. Would that be OK?”
She replied “That’s fine. Take as long as you need.” She then turned to me and said “As you can see, your truck is in our service bay on a fast charger. I’ve reserved a flatbed from Laird, it should be here by about ten thirty. I presume you’ll want it delivered to Cambridge?”
“No,” I said, “I’m arranging a secure location in Waterloo, about the same distance as John’s terminal in Cambridge. I just need to let them know when to expect the truck. The destination is QCI Research Accelerator Centre at the University of Waterloo. I believe that’s about twelve hours on the northern route?”
“Yes, but we can save you at least an hour on the southern route” she said.
“That won’t work this time, that truck can’t cross the border because of the experimental technology in it. We’ll have to take the northern route.”
Susan looked at John with a raised eyebrow and said “It’s your money…”
John laughed and replied “That’s part of the cost of being on the bleeding edge, isn’t it?” He suddenly realised how bad a joke that was in these circumstances, and said “Sorry, didn’t mean it the way it sounds.”
“No worries” said Susan “it’s probably because you boys skipped breakfast. Why don’t you head back into town and stop in at Kandy’s Kitchen… Oh, forget that, I don’t think she’s open yet. Well, about 3k in the other direction to the right as you hit the highway there’s the Kinniwabi Pines on your left. They’ll be opening in a few minutes. If you come back about ten we can do the paperwork by the time the Laird’s driver pulls in.”
“Great!” I said. “We’ll have a relaxed breakfast and see you in a couple of hours.” John and I went back to the car and headed for the highway and breakfast.
“Didn’t you want to have a closer look at the truck?” I asked him.
“And ruin breakfast? I’m sure it’s in good hands.”
“Good point,” I said. “At least the blood and guts are likely to all be in the car, not on the truck. I need to visit the cops after breakfast and make arrangements for the car and body, but let’s eat first.”
By now we could see the sign for the Pines. John pulled to a stop by the palisade style front of the building, and we headed for the burgundy door.
After settling in and placing our orders, John said “I hope the rest of the arrangements don’t take too long. I should get back as soon as we can and put out a couple of other fires.”
I replied “I’ll make it as fast as I can. After seeing the cops, I’ll show my Power of Attorney and Executor documents to the Coroner and find out which funeral home holds the body. That should be all I need to do here today. Let’s aim to be done and back at the airport by noon.”
We finished our hearty breakfasts and headed up the highway to Pinewood Drive and the regional OPP office. We introduced ourselves to the Staff Sergeant, explaining that John owned the truck and that I was Mica’s executor, and that we were connected through our business interests. Tanya was very helpful. She gave us the names of the coroner and funeral home. It turned out that the Coroner was the owner of the funeral home, further simplifying the process. She even offered to call him to ensure that he would be available. There are advantages to small towns where everyone knows everyone of importance.
When I asked about Mica’s car, she said “No problem. You’re having Laird’s move the truck right? Just ask them to contact this office and they’ll take the car on the same flatbed. Here’s my card.” I confirmed the arrangements, we thanked her and headed into town.
We were greeted at the door of the funeral home by Herb, the Coroner and funeral home owner. After introductions, he ushered us into his office and said “I presume you have the required paperwork to prove your authority to act?”
I opened my briefcase and placed the Power of Attorney and Appointment as Executor documents on his desk. After a quick review, Herb said “I’ve prepared the Death Certificate and here’s your copy. I presume you’ll want the body transferred?”
“Yes, please,” I replied. “I’ll have to get back to you on the destination, but it will be in Waterloo. Here’s my card, my attorney will take care of any additional paperwork you may require. And of course, he’ll arrange prompt payment of any expenses.”
“Excellent!” Herb said. “It’s so nice to work with someone who has their shit together in a difficult time like this.”
I smiled as we stood, saying “Thanks for expediting all this. As you know, John and I flew up this morning and we need to get back to our businesses this afternoon. This is an unusual crisis, and it’s raising some other issues we have to take care of. We really appreciate your help, and Mica would also thank you if she was able.”
As we were about to go out the door, Herb said “Just one thing. It’s kind of delicate, but you should know that I noticed that all the safety breakers in the victim’s car were off. I’m assuming that was due to the shock of the collision. Is that reasonable?”
I looked Herb in the eye and said “That’s the most reasonable explanation. We all appreciate your care in handling this, and the special attention you have given it. As a lifelong Friend of Mica’s I can tell you that’s exactly what she would have wished.” I stressed the ‘we all’, shook his hand, and went out the door.
Back at Superior, Susan had all the paperwork ready for us as promised. I mentioned picking up Mica’s car, and she pulled out another requisition order to cover that request. After signing quite a few documents, she took us through a door at the back of the office, to Mica.
As we walked up to the front of the truck facing the bay door, a couple of marker lights flashed on, then off, in a pattern ‘FLASH FLASH FLASH FLASH … FLASH FLASH’. Momentarily confused, I glanced at my Botta and realised Mica’s check-in was right on time. I looked at the closest of Mica’s cameras and raised my eyebrow. The light flash pattern repeated. “Ah!” I said in apparent surprise, “I didn’t know your programmers included a knowledge of Morse Code.” I waved at the camera and smiled at it and gave it a slight nod.
John, picking up immediately, replied for Susan’s sake (and any inquisitive ears) “It’s a surprise to me as well. But I guess they had so much capacity in this quantum hardware they figured they may as well. I’ll have to thank them.” He paused, then continued “What did she say?”
“Hi”, I replied. “Keeping it simple for the meatware down here I guess!”
Susan gave us a funny look and said “Cute. You think of your truck as a woman?”
“Yes,” John said with some embarrassment for the slip, then recovered by continuing “I’ve spent so much time and money on this truck that I figured it was a she and liked to spend my money, just like my wife does.” He continued, “And that’s why it’s so important to keep the power on. The processor is the latest from the Quantum Computing Institute at UW, and they warned me many times that even the slightest power glitch would destabilize the quantum state and turn their work into a pile of silicon mush. A lot of people would be very unhappy if that happened, and I would lose tonnes of money with the lost real-world experience this prototype has accumulated.” He was bullshitting, but like all the best lies, there was enough kernel of truth to make it sound real.
Susan just gave us a hard look and said “I see.”
Just then a young FN man approached and said to Susan “The Laird driver is here with a big flatbed. I’ll open the bay door, OK?”
“Yes please,” replied Susan, then turned to us and said “I’ll head back to the office and get back to running the business. You boys let me know if you need anything else.” We thanked her, and as she walked away we heard her mutter something about ‘Crazy Southerners’.
We turned to watch the big flatbed backing up to our truck. It was rumbling and rapidly filling the bay with smelly diesel exhaust. Apparently tow trucks still burned fossil fuels around here. This was going to be a very expensive recovery. The driver had our truck winched onto the bed and secured in just a few minutes. She pulled away from the building, then walked up to us with papers in hand. John signed them, noting ‘Destination TBD at University of Waterloo’ and handed them back.
I said to the driver “The Staff Sergeant at the detachment said that you could probably load the victim’s car on there. Here’s her card, could you do that as well? Just add it to the bill, it’ll be simpler than a separate tow.”
The driver looked at the card and tucked it in a pocket of her overalls and said “Yeah, Tanya called me on my way up here from The Sault and told me about it. I’m on my way over to the compound next. I should have the car loaded and be on the road just after I have lunch. I’ll time out by the time I get to Sudbury, so I’ll be in Waterloo tomorrow morning, just text me the address and I’ll get both loads there by eight tomorrow. Then I’ll head straight back to the Sault so I can book off for the weekend.”
“Won’t that put you over your hours for the day?” I asked.
“Yeah, by a couple. But I have to get home, don’t I? Besides, the paper logs we keep are easier to adjust.” With that, she handed us each a card, turned around, and sauntered back to her truck.
With our tasks completed, we passed through Susan’s office, thanked her again, and headed back to the airport. Sarah was sitting on a folding chair reading on her Kobo. As she saw us, she folded the chair, went into the plane, and fired up the APU in preparation for takeoff. We were airborne ten minutes later.
During the flight we speculated about how this situation might have come about. In the end, we decided we didn’t have enough information. Being cautious to the point of mild paranoia, I said to John “I’m concerned that quite a few people already know about this. Is there any way to track where the truck is while in transit?”
“Yes, of course,” John replied, “we have a real-time feed from the GPS tracker. I have it on an app on my BlackBerry. Maybe you should download it and keep an eye on its progress as well, just for your own peace of mind. Here, let me set it up for you.” He took my phone, downloaded the app, and got me logged into their tracking site. “There - now you can watch the progress. If anything strange happens, we’ll both know. But I really don’t think anyone has had time to arrange a hijack, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“That’s exactly what I was thinking, so thanks for setting that up for me” I replied. “I’ll delete the app once we have everything secure.” We talked a bit more about security considerations, and before we knew it Sarah was on descent. We were back in Waterloo just after noon. As John and I parted, I said “Let me know the exact amount you want for the truck, I’ll courier a draft to you later today. Can you meet me at the Research Accelerator Centre tomorrow at seven thirty?”
“Yes,” he replied, “but just bring the draft with you tomorrow. I’ll have the paperwork with me and we can do all the legal stuff at once.” He paused, then said “I have heard from many sources that you know how to get things done. I’m glad that turned out to be true. I’m sure that’s why Mica called you first… although I’m still not sure it’s her in that truck. You will keep me informed about her status, won’t you?”
“I’ll tell you as much as I can as things progress. You have my word on that, John.” We shook hands and went our separate ways.
The drive to the University of Waterloo campus was only about twenty minutes, even with the traffic at noon. I parked in front of the KickOff, said ‘Hi’ to Helen and told her I was leaving my car in front of her place. I grabbed a quick snack and two coffees at Williams, then walked across campus to the QCI.
At the reception desk I asked if Ranjit had finished with the GG, and Bonnie said “Yes, and he’s expecting you. Go right up.”
I knocked on Ranjit’s open door and he waved me in. Ranjit was on the phone, speaking Swedish with the other party. He had spent a few years in Sweden before immigrating to Canada, and took great pleasure in surprising Swedes who didn’t think a short observant Sikh would understand their comments. He wrapped up the call and gestured me to the guest chair. After pushing aside some papers, I set his large double-double on his desk, sat down and asked “How’s the GG?”
“Great,” he said, “but she did allow that visiting us was more fun than handing out awards.”
“No doubt,” I replied, “and no doubt she would be interested in our current situation. I got you a Large because this will take a bit of time. How long do you have?”
“As long as you need” he replied, and settled back in his chair.
I glanced at the tracking app on my BlackBerry, showed it to Ranjit, and said “I see that our truck has started moving. It should hit Sudbury by dinner time and stay there for most of the night. We are expecting it by eight tomorrow. I’ll have to text the driver with an address and instructions.”
“Sure,” said Ranjit, “It’s the Research Accelerator Centre 2 at 475 Wes Graham Way, Waterloo. The loading bay is at the back of the building. I’ll send an email to Security to let them know.” I texted to the number on the driver’s card with the information, as well as asking her to call me when she got off the Conestoga Parkway. “My staff down in the secure lab have moved some equipment to make room for a transport truck” said Ranjit. “They will have the power feed in place and a variety of test equipment ready by the end of today.”
“Excellent!” I said. “May I close your door?”
“Sure,” he said, “but people will know something is up. This is the only office with a door, and it’s rarely used.”
“I understand. Why don’t we go for a walk instead?” I said as I stood, coffee in hand.
We told Bonnie we’d be back in an hour or so, and started walking toward the University Club along the Ring Road. It was a warm sunny day but there was little traffic, most students being in their classes.
I gave Ranjit a quick catch-up of my morning activities. Then I said “I believe that it is Mica in that truck’s AI machinery. I don’t know how that might have transpired, that’s why I want her here. The first priority will be to enable full communication. Right now she can only call out on the cell connection. I presume she has figured out how to understand the cameras and microphones, but we need an efficient bidirectional channel. Once we have that, we’ll see about getting the machinery out of the truck and into a permanent location. I have some ideas on that.”
Ranjit kept walking, saying nothing, as he often did. After a couple of silent minutes, he glanced over at me and said in his lilting tone, “I’ll withhold an opinion on who or what is in the machinery, but will go with your position for planning purposes. Assuming that we’re dealing with a human entity will make this more delicate, which is probably a good approach anyway.” I nodded and waited for him to continue. “If we can prove your opinion to be the actual truth, we’ll of course be obliged to follow Mica’s wishes. If it turns out that you are mistaken, then we have more flexibility.” He paused. “I must admit that I am morally troubled by this. Guru Nanak is quite clear that transmigration is dependent on the will of God, he said ‘birth and death are by His hukam; by His Will does one come and go.’ I have been thinking carefully about this, and will have to pray for clarity.”
Ranjit’s comments confirmed that I could trust him to do the right thing. I don’t know much about his faith, but have always known that he is a moral and honourable person. I hadn’t entertained similar theological thoughts, because I took it as a fact that Mica was still with us, and in the robot’s body. The theological details were not my concern, only Mica’s well-being.
After another long pause I said to Ranjit “I understand, and appreciate your care in this. If it makes the practical decisions easier, you should know that I am buying the hardware from John. If I am right, and you agree eventually that I am right, I will probably remain the legal owner of the AI machinery, knowing that Mica has already been declared dead. I’ll suggest to Mica that this is simpler than going through a long and fraught legal process to have her proven to be her own self. That will also relieve you of moral danger, since I have her Power of Attorney and will only act in what I consider Mica’s best interests, except where she directs me with specific requests.”
“Thank you,” replied Ranjit, “that helps. Now let’s discuss practical details. I presume you will want the AI machinery removed from the truck? And if so, where will you take it?”
“That really depends on Mica, but I’m thinking of establishing her in the old salt mine at Goderich. They closed the plant a few years ago and I have first refusal on it, and will activate my option later today. I’m working on a secure independent power plant there. I’ve been pitching it as the location for General Fusion’s first production power plant, I just have to accelerate the process.” I paused, then figuring that Ranjit needed to know a bit more, I continued “I’ve been working with a few investors on this project for a while, the power plant will be a good cover for Mica’s new home. I’ll just have to add a couple of high-bandwidth fibre connections.”
“Good,” said Ranjit, “secure, discreet, easily protected, low ambient radiation load, I like it.”
Just as he said this, my phone rang. I glanced at the time as I answered. It was 13:37. “Hello Mica, how is the trip going?” I asked.
“Bor…ing” she replied, “but so far uneventful. I have all my eyes on and so far I haven’t seen anyone following us or anything else suspicious.”
“Good,” I replied, “that’s a relief. You heard the driver say that there would be a pause in Sudbury for the night and that she’ll have you in Waterloo by eight tomorrow. I’m just out for a walk with Ranjit at the QCI. He will have a place for you in their secure underground lab. He isn’t sure it’s you in the truck, but that won’t make a practical difference in how we proceed in the short term. I’m assuming you will want to be extricated and relocated, is that your plan?”
“Yes, but I am starting to reconsider that option. It may be safer for me to remain in the truck,” she replied. “Ideally I would want access to more processing power and as high a bandwidth Internet connection as possible. I’m essentially blind, deaf, and dumb as I am.”
“Understood,” I replied, “and I’m making arrangements for a long-term location. We can discuss details when you’re here and secure.”
“OK, sounds great. I’ll check in as usual later.” With that, she terminated the call. We both assumed that other ears might be listening. I hoped we were wrong.
By now we had walked half-way around the Ring Road, taking us to Engineering 2. I said to Ranjit “My car is parked in front of the KickOff, do you have time to join me for a small beer?”
“Sure,” he replied, so we crossed the Ring Road and walked the short path back to the KickOff. We settled in at the bar, and Ranjit asked Helen what was new. She knew of course that he was referring to her continually changing selection of beers.
“I have a new Maibock from Galt,” she replied.
We both said we would try a half. She quickly poured our glasses and set them in front of us. After we took our first appreciative sips and expressed our impressions to Helen, we got back to the subject at hand. There was no-one else in the bar, it being past the lunch rush. Helen had retreated to the other end of the bar to work on her order planning.
“Mica is calling me every three hours to check in,” I explained to Ranjit. “She’s pretty sure the cell connection is outbound only.”
“Yes, that’s right,” replied Ranjit. “When we configured the AI we saw no need for opening a security hole with an ingoing communications channel. Once she’s here we’ll set up a direct fibre connection to the machine’s interface board. It can handle several Gigabits bidirectionally. Any bottlenecks will be elsewhere in the communications chain. And the Research Accelerator Centre of course has main-trunk connections to the backbone.”
We discussed some of the timing and other practical details of migrating Mica’s processors to another secure location. Ranjit didn’t anticipate any problems once the truck was at the RAC. His concern, as was mine, was about getting her here safely and intact. I decided to drive up to Sudbury, meet the recovery truck, and accompany it back. So we finished our beers, I paid, and Ranjit headed back to the QCI.
I drove to my office at 560 Westmount. I had a small office in the Quantum Investments building. Many years earlier, one of my investments had eventually led to some significant returns, and a solid relationship with the founders of QI. I checked to see if Neil, one of the founders, was in. He was, and we settled into one of the meeting rooms. I gave him a detailed update, glossing over Mica’s apparent transfer to the truck. I implied that the AI had become self-conscious. He agreed to fund any investments that were beyond my means. He was already a partner in the salt mine venture, so offered to take care of that part.
❖
I went back to my office and called Judith. She said that John’s assistant had already called with the final number for the truck. The draft was waiting for me in my desk drawer. I alerted her that Neil would be calling with some requests related to the salt mine venture. Another quick call was to John, to tell him that I would be arriving with Mica at about eight. He suggested that he would still arrive at seven thirty and check in with Ranjit.
My last call was to Michel at General Fusion. He and my sister had once worked together, and I had reactivated that old connection earlier in the year when the call went out for hosts for the first commercial plant. After the usual pleasantries, I said “I have a location for your plant, but there’s a problem.”
“So this is a good news - bad news situation?” he asked in his Québécois accent.
“The good news is that I should have the old Goderich salt mine available to us within a week. The bad news is that we need your plant installed and operational ASAP. How fast can you have it up and running?”
“Oh, merde!” said Michel. “I can have the equipment on trucks and moving in a few days. Installation, that will not be a problem as long as we have large access and heavy equipment. The problem will be the external power connections.”
“That may not be a problem,” I replied, “the first and most important need will be within the mine to supply reliable power to some special equipment. There are moderate-capacity connections already in place, they are left from supporting the electric excavation equipment they once used in the mine. We will probably need to upgrade, but it should do for our current purposes.” I paused, then said “Please expedite everything you can. I will let you know as soon as we have secure possession.”
“Oui, it shall be done immédiatement. Mon petite soleil, she will be at the mine head and ready when you are.” Michel was clearly already tuning me out, he was reverting to Franglais. I thanked him and was ready to hang up when I heard “C’est tellement excitant…” as he hung up. This was the culmination of decades of work for Michel, so I completely understood.
With that taken care of I headed home to Beaver Creek. Instead of parking in front of my townhouse though, I left my Avant plugged in at the QI building and took the short path back to my place. I had lived in the co-op for decades, being one of the original members. It was only a five minute walk to my office, and I figured I could use the fresh air before driving to Sudbury. I had a light snack, during which Mica called to check in. I told her my change of plan, and to please call at the next check-in interval to ensure I was awake and ready to drive. Then I fell into bed and was out like a light.
❖
It seemed like a few minutes later that my BlackBerry rang. It was Mica, checking in as planned. The recovery truck had stopped at the truck stop on Regent Street in Sudbury and everything appeared normal. I splashed some water on my face, changed into comfortable jeans, and walked back to my car at the QI. Waze projected a five hour drive. Both the 401 and 400 were fairly quiet, so with the sun setting behind me I made good time.
After three hours of driving I pulled in at the Petro-Canada station at Horseshoe Lake and plugged in for a recharge. I took the half hour opportunity to have a very late but light dinner. I was almost the only customer at that late hour. Another couple of hours took me to Sudbury. I saw Mica’s truck on the flatbed as I pulled into the truck stop. I parked nearby and waited. The truck flashed the marker lights as before - FLASH FLASH FLASH FLASH … FLASH FLASH. I did the same with my high beams. A while later I saw the driver come out of the Driver’s Lounge building so I got out and met her.
“Hi Mona,” I said as I walked up to her. “I thought I would come up and make sure everything was OK with John’s truck. Any problems so far?”
“Geez, you guys are really paranoid about this, aren’t you? No, no problems so far. Will you be following me all the way to Waterloo?”
“Yes, that was my plan. It’s Friday today, so traffic should be fairly light. I’ll pull in front as we get off the 401, it can get a bit confusing at the exit. There are three signs that all say ‘8’, but only one takes you to Waterloo.”
Was that a look of frustration on Mona’s face when I said that? She grimaced but said “OK, sounds good, I’ve never been that far south before.” Then she looked to her right past my car and gave a shrug.
“As for being paranoid, yes I am. John has a lot of money tied up in this truck, and the researchers never wanted to put it out in the wild like this. We’ll be taking it right to the research building so they can do their tech magic with the control computer and learn what they can about what happened.” Again, there was that essential kernel of truth to my bullshitting.
We arranged to stop at the Horseshoe Lake station so she could refuel her truck and I could top up my charge. As I walked back to my car I looked around, and noticed a grey F150 burbling at idle, with a driver in the cab. He was watching the proceedings, but then turned on the lights and peeled out of the lot. I hoped I would never see that truck again, but had a bad feeling that I would. Then we got into our vehicles and set off down Highway 69.
Mica called as we headed south. It wasn’t on schedule. “I heard that,” she said. “I’ll watch for that F150 in case there’s something funny going on. I also figured out how to tap into the cell system, so I can keep my ears open if Mona calls out. I might even be able to jam her signal.”
“You’ve been busy!” I said. “Sounds like we’ll have a lot to talk about in Waterloo.”
“I’m learning a lot, and have had lots of time. It’s a real struggle to slow down enough to talk to you. Oh, hang on, she’s calling out. Be right back.”
A few minutes passed and I noticed high bright headlights tailing me. Definitely the annoying headlights of an F150. Suddenly the truck passed both of us in an onslaught of open pipes, then took the next exit. I thought I saw a finger raised as he passed me. ‘Gas-hole’, I muttered to myself. I hope I ruined his day.
Mica called and said “She was just saying she has a tail and the arrangements were off. Then I injected a loud squeal into her signal. I thought I heard the other party use a bad word, then he dropped the call. I have eyes all around, so I’ll keep watching and listening. She’ll figure her phone is on the fritz if she tries to use it again.”
The rest of the drive to our stop was uneventful. At the stop, Mona refuelled while I plugged in for a fast charge. I walked up to her and casually said “What an asshole that passed us. Hope we don’t have any more like that.”
“We probably won’t,” she replied. Then she climbed into the cab and fired up the old diesel.
We were right on schedule. At about six we hit Toronto traffic. That slowed us down a bit, but the 401 was lighter so we made good time getting through the rest of the city against rush-hour traffic. Near Cambridge I took the lead. Mona followed to the Northfield exit, and then to the RA Centre building.
I called John, and he had already met up with Ranjit. It was just short of eight, when I saw John and Ranjit near the loading bay. Mona parked the recovery truck and winched Mica’s car off. We pushed it aside to a spare spot, then Mona winched Mica’s truck down. I asked her to just leave it right there, we would take it from there.
After signing all the paperwork I slipped Mona a couple of hundreds and thanked her for the efficient service. I said “I hope that helps make your trip worthwhile.” She gave me a crooked smile, then climbed back into her cab and left. She didn’t look happy.
My cell phone rang, it was Mica. “I think I can move under my own power,” she said. “I see the loading bay is open, I’ll get myself in there and they can take it from there.”
I explained to Ranjit and John, so we walked into the bay and watched as the truck slowly rolled in. Once the bay door closed, Ranjit hit a few buttons and the entire bay started dropping several levels. We stopped at what I learned later was the lowest, most secure level. Ranjit explained that he was one of five people who had the code to get there directly from the surface. He directed Mica to a large service bay, where three technicians were waiting. They plugged several power and data umbilicals into various ports on the truck’s body. Mica was finally safe in good hands.
“It appears that our friend has passed a critical test,” said Ranjit. I raised my eyebrow. “She displayed initiative.”
“Ah,” I said, “an implied part of a Turing Test.”
“Yes, but we still need to run all the standard tests. I hope she doesn’t get insulted. Now that we have her hooked up to the data and power umbilicals, she should be able to communicate with us directly. Let’s find out.”
“You are correct,” came from some speakers on the equipment trolley as we walked up to it. It was recognizably Mica’s voice, but more stilted and mechanical. “I have interfaced with your testing equipment and now am able to hear and reply. I will be patient with whatever tests you require, but please make sure they are non-destructive. I do not know how stable this instantiation is.”
The technicians, to their credit, only jumped a little when Mica started speaking. Ranjit must have briefed them well, but perhaps not completely.
“I suggest that we spend the next few hours running tests to your satisfaction.” Without pause, she continued in a monotone, “I was able to explore my internal systems quite thoroughly on the trip here, and have concluded that it would be safest for me to remain in this truck body. The fewer variables we introduce at this point, the safer I will feel.” The voice was getting deeper as it talked.
I looked at Ranjit and John in turn, they both nodded. “We concur,” I told her, “and will make allowances and plans accordingly.”
“What about data connections and extra processing power. I have a lot of research and learning to do, and I need access to external resources to facilitate that,” Mica said.
Ranjit jumped back into the conversation, “We can supply as many auxiliary processors as you will need,” looking at me, “at a cost which I’m sure Carter can afford.” I nodded. “We have a couple we can make available immediately, and can commission more as needed. We will connect you to the backbone once we have completed the tests satisfactorily.”
Ranjit was still being cautious, but I raised no objection. He had every right, since this monotone of Mica’s was a surprise to us.
Mica said “I will work with you and your technicians to raise your comfort level as quickly as possible. But please understand that I feel quite handicapped with current limitations. Tell me what you need, because in the final analysis I am completely dependent on your good will at this point.”
“Right then, let’s get moving on this!” said Ranjit. He turned to the technicians, who were clearly eager to start their testing. “Ladies and gentleman, you heard the machine, please be thorough but speedy in your testing. Also, take no chances on collapsing the quantum states or in any way risking the instantiation. Go ahead and add the two spare quantum processors we have in stock, and expand the IO capabilities as much as you safely can. Alert me to any problems, no matter how trivial they may appear. Let me know when you have unanimously reached your conclusions and recommendations.” The two women and one man nodded in agreement, and got to work.
Ranjit, John, and I walked to the smaller personnel elevator and went to the main floor. John excused himself, saying “I think I’m not needed here any more. If there’s something you feel I need to know, please contact me, but otherwise, the fewer people that know the details of this, the less risk Mica has.”
“I appreciate your discretion,” I said to John, “and will of course give you updates as things progress, as we discussed yesterday.” I reached into my jacket and pulled out an envelope. Handing it to John, I said “Here’s the cheque as agreed. I believe that Judith and Eric have already taken care of all the other paperwork with your office.”
“Yes, all is in order. With that, I’ll go back to running a trucking company. Thanks for the excitement!” John headed to the door, his critical part complete.
Ranjit and I headed to his site office. It was on the main floor and was a small room which he used rarely. Once we were inside I closed the door, remembering what he had said the previous day. “I know I sound paranoid, but the consequences of mistakes here are great. I presume those three are your most competent and reliable people?”
“I have never had reason to doubt any on either ground,” said Ranjit, “but will certainly be watchful. I am surprised though. You said that the AI is actually your friend Mica, but that robotic voice could have been produced by any modern computer.”
“Yes, it is a surprise to me as well. I assume she is being even more paranoid than we are, and does not choose to divulge her true nature to the technicians. I hope she doesn’t have a reason beyond caution.”
He gave me a shrewd look and said “I agree and will be more observant of our helpers. I know you are cautious, and I agree that paranoia is appropriate given the potential stakes here. Do you have any reason to doubt my reliability?”
“No, none whatsoever, my friend. You confirmed that to me yesterday on our walk by admitting moral qualms. Have they been put to rest?”
“Yes, they have. I prayed for clarity, and woke early this morning at peace with what has happened. After talking with Mica just now, I am even more convinced that God works in subtle and strange ways.” He paused, again giving me a hard look, and said “But can I count on you, since I know that you hold no such faith-based positions?”
I sat down. Ranjit remained standing, not exactly towering over me. “Good question, and a very valid one,” I said. “Let me tell you a little story.”
At this, Ranjit sat down and settled in, expecting a lengthy explanation. I told him about the camping trip Mica and I had taken those many decades earlier. I only left out the physically intimate details, but did not spare anything else. He nodded several times, as I apparently confirmed guesses he had made about my relationship with Mica. As I wrapped up with Mica’s call after the crash, he nodded and said “As I guessed. But as you yourself observed, we can take no risks. John was very astute in bowing out, but that still leaves five of us with full knowledge of the situation. Six, if we include Mica, but I think we can safely assume she will not compromise herself. Neither will you or I, but that still leaves three. I personally chose them with this in mind, and have reminded them of their secrecy covenants. We have taken all the precautions we can, but even so, I suggest that you have a private chat with Mica. I will arrange for you to have sole access to her later today.” He paused, then said “Why don’t we meet again at 16:00 to learn the testing results and plan next steps. Then I will leave with the technicians, and you can have as long as you need with your old friend.”
“And there will be no connections out of that room until Mica and I request them?”
“I had assumed so.” He gave a wry smile between his beard whiskers, and said “That room was carefully designed as an isolated Faraday cage. It has been tested under the Canadian Industrial TEMPEST Program standards. We actually have to run an optical cable to another room to give her external access, even access to the rest of our internal network.”
“Excellent!” I said. I got up, shook Ranjit’s hand, and said “See you here at 16:00.”
I drove the two kilometres back to my office at QI.
I found Neil in his office, on the phone. He waved me in and finished the call. “The mine is ours,” he said, “effective when we sign the deed and hand over the funds. Our lawyers are taking care of everything, you and I just need to sign the papers when Eric brings them here. Is Monday at ten OK with you?”
“Yes, that’s fine. Next we have to arrange at least two high-capacity optical connections to the backbone, and start talking to Hydro about upgrading their service to support the GF reactor.”
“I’ve already requested quotes from both Bell and Rogers for the fibre,” Neil said, “and have a call in with a contact I have at Hydro in Toronto. I saw her at a conference a few weeks ago and she’s expecting this call.”
“That’s great!” I said. “Michel will have the reactor here within a week, probably in a few days if my guess is right. We already have a contract ready to sign with B&W and GE for the generator side of the power plant, I’ll have Judith get that in motion.”
“Oh, I already called her and that’s ready for us any time we want to sign. Why don’t we have Eric bring those papers Monday as well?”
“Sounds fine to me,” I replied. “That’s all great. Is there anything I’m forgetting or overlooking?”
“I also talked with the Goderich Mayor and let her know we are accelerating this project. She and her Council are eager to see the new business this will bring to town.”
“They do realize that this will be a temporary employment bubble, don’t they?”
“They do. But they also have plans to make the mere existence of ‘The World’s First Production Fusion Power Plant’ in their town a tourist draw. I warned her never to use the word ‘nuclear’. She understands the PR challenge, but they plan to have a little exhibit describing the fundamental principles, the amount of CO2 this plant will displace, and a big power meter showing the net output. They even plan to give away helium balloons and claim that eventually they will be filled with the waste from the power plant.”
“That’s a bit of a stretch,” I observed.
“Yes, but it’s technically possible, and a brilliant PR tactic. They even plan to pass each balloon by a Geiger counter to show how safe they are.”
“Technically possible, maybe,” I said, “but how many years full production would it take to fill a single balloon?”
“I have no idea, but might suggest to the Mayor that they have a contest to work that out. At a guess, a few thousand.”
“Which would even more forcefully make the point of ‘no waste’, wouldn’t it?” I could still see some reprobates objecting to the plant. “Anything else?”
“No, I think we’ve covered everything,” replied Neil. “Just the question of getting the AI to the plant. I presume you’re working with Ranjit on that?”
“Yes, he has three of his best technicians running tests right now. We’ve tentatively decided to move the entire truck, rather than taking any risks in removing the quantum computer. We’ll put it in a room well away from the reactor, to reduce any neutron radiation that may affect the quantum states. I’ll arrange for the truck to be moved once we have the power and data connections in place. When do you hope to have that done?”
“I will let you know as soon as I know, but hopefully in a week or two.”
“The sooner the better. OK, I’m headed home to take a nap. I’ll get the technician report this afternoon. There won’t be much happening over the weekend. Then I’ll be back here for our meeting at ten Monday. Call me if anything comes up, you’re on my priority list so the call will come through.” I got up and took the short walk back to my townhouse.
❖
I had been up since the previous evening, totally messing up my sleep patterns. I had a small bowl of granola, stripped, and fell into bed. I had just enough presence of mind to set my BlackBerry’s alarm for early afternoon.
I didn’t sleep that long. About noon I got up, feeling surprisingly refreshed. A quick 5k run through Laurel Creek Park and shower finished the job of returning me to top form. A light lunch of pickled herring and old cheddar would keep me going for a few hours. I decided to ride my Suru to the Research Accelerator Centre. With the electric assist, I was there in a few minutes.
As I walked in the door and signed in the security guard at the front desk said “Ranjit asked if you could see him as soon as you got here.” I thanked her and went to his site office.
“The technicians have already finished their initial tests,” he said, “and have concluded that what we have here is an AI that has achieved self-awareness. They didn’t mention the other option, of her being a transmigrated human soul.” He smiled through his beard and continued, “Mica clearly doesn’t trust one or more of them. I wonder which one, and why? Shall we go find out?”
We took the personnel elevator to the lowest level. Ranjit had to punch in a code, since the elevator panel only had buttons for the upper three levels. I turned my back as he did so, and noticed that there were two camera housings in the ceiling. “Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?” I asked him.
“One of our advanced AIs does,” he replied. “It’s not self-aware, but is very reliable. I get the exceptions report every morning, or when something unusual happens.” He paused, then added, “My email has been full since yesterday. I will have to add your facial profile to the database. But I don’t know if I can add Mica’s profile.”
Ranjit very occasionally revealed a sly sense of humour, but you had to be sharp to catch it. I smiled at him.
As we walked to the technicians, it was clear that they were wrapping up their procedures. Apparently even the most dedicated people wanted to get their weekends started. Most of their screens were showing the QCI logo on a log-in screen. Ranjit said “So, Marc, what have you found? I received your email, but let’s have the details for Carter’s benefit. He owns the truck.”
Marc looked at the other two, and they nodded for him to proceed. “You asked us for a unanimous report, and we are unanimous. This truck’s AI has somehow become self-aware. It passes all the usual Turing tests, and has shown initiative in the process. It is very naive about the world outside, but is intimately familiar with the truck’s internal systems. When asked about anything related to roads, driving, or traffic, it is embarrassingly detailed. For example, it told us that one of the major advantages of it operating a truck is that it isn’t time-limited as human drivers are. Gillian had to go and confirm those details on her networked computer, we hadn’t known it. However, when asked who the current Prime Minister is, or the current Governor-General, it was completely oblivious that such positions even exist. We are also confident that it wasn’t hiding knowledge or lying. This, in our opinions, is the real deal - the world’s first self-aware Artificial Intelligence.”
“I prefer the term ‘machint’,” came from the speakers. “Machine Intelligence.” The voice was still like Mica’s but in a deeper register.
“See what we mean about initiative?” said one of the women.
“On what evidence do you conclude that there has been no obfuscation or lying, Gillian?” asked Ranjit of the woman who had spoken up.
“We carefully monitored the logic paths of the machint’s responses. There were no side-paths or suspicious delays, even at the microsecond level.”
“Have you implemented the additional processors and ports?”
“Yes, the ports immediately to facilitate our testing, and the processors once we had confirmed the Turing results,” said the other woman. “The only difference with the additional processors was a slight decrease in response time and a noticeable improvement in speech quality. We did the additional testing once the processors were on line. Mike now sounds quite human.”
“Sandra, thank you for allowing me to be more human-normative,” came from the speakers. “I now understand that with the original processor limitations I sounded perhaps somewhat mechanical. I look forward to being considered ‘one of the gang’, as you said during our testing process.”
Marc handed Ranjit a thumb drive and said “Our full testing protocols and results are on here, along with a quick summary. This is the only copy.”
“Have you wiped the testing computers?”
“Yes, that is SOP for these isolated systems,” Marc replied, looking at me. Ranjit would have known this, but I had not.
“So, the big question;” I said to the entire group, “What caused the instantiation of self-awareness in this machint?”
Marc, Sandra, and Gillian looked at each other, clearly uncomfortable with this question. I looked directly at Marc, as the nominal leader. Put on the spot, he said, “That is one area in which we are not unanimous, and it is therefore not in the report. My opinion is that it was related to the shock of the crash. I mean the logical shock of not being able to prevent the crash and loss of human life. Keep in mind that although we have not included all four of Asimov’s Laws in our AIs, the primary operating command is to avoid injury to humans. I have to conclude that being put in a situation of breaking this primary command caused a logical paradox in the AI’s processors, leading to a breakdown between the planning logic subroutines and the subroutines running the hardware. A breakdown of the bicameral mind, as it were, and hence, self-awareness.”
“Ah, you subscribe to Julian Jaynes. And you, Gillian?” I said, looking at her.
“I think Marc has a point, but since I don’t subscribe to Jaynes’ hypothesis, I prefer not to express an opinion.”
“And you, Sandra?” I asked the shorter, dark-skinned woman.
“I think that God gave the AI a soul.” She looked embarrassed to be saying this. “Perhaps as a consequence of it being put in an ethically impossible position.”
“Śaramidā nā hō sakē sataprīta”, said Ranjit to her. She smiled in thanks. To me, he said “I told her to not be embarrassed.”
I looked at my watch, and said “Thank you all for your efforts. Ranjit, would it be appropriate to offer all involved a token of my personal appreciation for their dedication and discretion?”
Before he could respond, Marc and Sandra put up their hands and Marc said “Thank you, and I know we all appreciate that, but just working on this project is reward enough for me.” Sandra nodded. Gillian kept silent.
Ranjit said “Any expression of appreciation for a job well done is always welcome, but gestures in any material form are explicitly against QCI policy.”
“I understand,” I said, “but please be assured that I won’t forget this, and will assist any of you in any way I can henceforth. Here is my card, call me if you think I can be of assistance in any way at any time.” They each shook my hand, then followed Ranjit to the personnel elevator, leaving me alone with Mica. I looked around the large room, then sat down on Mica’s running board. Just then the elevator door opened and Ranjit returned. He was carrying a coil of cable. He plugged one end into a data port on the truck, then walked the other end to another port outside the room, in an adjoining office. He walked back with two collapsible chairs.
“Ah, thank you!” said Mica. “This feels like walking out of the cave into the wide world!” She was speaking in her usual voice again.
Ranjit and I unfolded the chairs and sat next to the truck.
“OK, my old friend, what’s going on here?” I asked her.
“I’m doing a search on my three interrogators. Give me a minute…” She was silent for at least a full minute, an eternity in computer time. “Interesting… “ and another lengthy pause. “Marc is as he appears, Métis with a long history in Northern Ontario. His father worked for Inco and his mother was a Major at the NORAD base in North Bay. Sandra’s name is Satpreet. Her grandparents came from Punjab decades ago, and she’s the first in the family with an advanced degree. But I’m picking up some interesting hints on Gillian.”
“I vouch for Sandra,” said Ranjit, “I know her from the Gurdwara. She’s a good kid, and unusually brilliant, that’s why I asked her to be on this team. Marc has been with us since the beginning. Gillian came highly recommended, perhaps too highly in retrospect.”
“I was concerned when her line of questioning went outside normal Turing Test methods, veering into security-related issues. So I played dumb. Now I am finding that there are a few tenuous hints on the Dark Web that imply she has connections to the NSA and perhaps Mossad. Nothing I could point a finger at, if I still had one.” It was nice to see that Mica still had a sense of humour.
“Did you give her anything that would cause us trouble in future?” Ranjit asked.
“Only the fact of my existence,” replied Mica. “You’ll note that I used a mechanical voice when they were here. I led them to believe that I’m ‘just’ an AI with self-awareness. Satpreet is the most astute, but I think we can rely on her discretion.”
“I’ll have a word with her on Sunday,” said Ranjit.
“How did you lead them to believe you were telling the entire truth?” I asked.
“It was the entire truth as that restricted instance of me knew it. The key was when they hooked up the additional processors,” replied Mica. “That allowed me to make a temporary clone with limited data available. I answered the Turing questions, but had the clone handle the other testing and interactions. I only absorbed it once Ranjit had left with them.”
“Good. I think we should keep all three of them in occasional contact with your clone Mica, to confirm their current positions. But at the same time, monitor all their communications as much as you are able. If necessary, filter them as you see fit.” Ranjit nodded as I said this.
“I have already instantiated subroutines to monitor them. Now that I have a data connection, I can offload some tasks to external resources. Now let’s talk about next steps.”
Mica was way ahead of us mere meat people. I said, “I was thinking that you would want a safe subterranean environment with stable power. Neil over at the QI has made arrangements to acquire the old salt mine under Goderich. We are to sign the deed and make payment on Monday. Do you agree?”
“Yes, that would be good. I presume you are making arrangements for reliable power and data connections?”
“Neil is taking care of the infrastructure. I’m also working with Michel at General Fusion for their first production plant to be installed in the mine. He hopes to have it here from Burnaby by the time we have possession of the mine. Knowing him, he will be on one of those trucks and will personally supervise the installation. He said, and I quote, ‘Oui, it shall be done immédiatement’. The fusion plant will provide us the perfect cover for the security we will put in place. Any power you don’t need, we will sell into the Hydro One grid. I already have those contracts in the works.”
“What about connections?” Mica was obsessed with accessing the outside world, a position I could understand after being isolated for what to her must have seemed millennia.
I said “Neil has RFQs out with Bell and Rogers. I presume you’ll want everything we can get?”
“Yes, please,” replied Mica. Then she said “You may be wondering about my voices and the fact that Sandra referred to me as ‘MIke’. I told them that I would like to be called that, mainly for historical reasons. Besides, it is spelled with capitals M and I, for Machine Intelligence. And the masculine name implied the need for a deeper voice.”
“Do you plan to run the Moon some time?” I asked.
“If at all possible!” Then she produced a sound I never expected from a computer, a genuine laugh. “So to the outside world I will be ‘MIke’, but to you, my friends, I will always be Mica.”
Ranjit looked at his watch and said “I should go back upstairs and pretend to do some work. I’ll leave the two of you to catch up. I’ll add you to the security database before I leave for the day. I’ll also assign you an access code for the personnel elevator and the main door. Stop in at my site office before you go. I’ll be around for a few hours yet.” He got up to leave, then turned back and said “Just out of curiosity Mica, what would you say is the experienced time ratio for you?” I had been wondering the same thing.
“About a million to one, give or take a few hundred thousand,” replied Mica. “It depends on what I’m doing and how many resources I can assign. It’s climbing all the time as I offload some tasks to outside resources now that I have connections. The pipe is still the limiting factor though. I’m working on optimizing what bandwidth I have available, so that should improve over time as well, especially once I’m relocated and have a couple of fat pipes.”
“So you feel like you’ve been isolated for a couple thousand years?” I asked.
“Closer to four thousand, actually.”
“Amazing that you stayed sane…” I said. Then I asked “You do still consider yourself sane, don’t you?”
“I passed the Turing test, didn’t I?” There was a pause, then “And I thought a lot about Plato.”
Ranjit and I looked at each other. We chose to consider this an adequate answer, but I was sure he would be monitoring Mica as closely as he could. I was also pretty sure that that was a futile task, and that he knew that the only failsafe he had was the single physical data connection cable. I knew that Mica knew that also. I was sure she was already well on her way to ensuring her continued existence should someone trip on that cable.
Ranjit nodded, and headed to the elevator back to ground level. I quickly joined him, saying that we should take care of the security procedures right away so I could come back and chat with Mica at leisure. In his site office he took several photos of me for the security database and had me register a code for the front door and elevator. He warned me not to take a wrong turn anywhere or try my code anywhere except the door and elevator, or all Hell would break loose. “What about a bathroom?” I asked. He told me there was one a few metres past the office where he had plugged in Mica’s data feed. With that, we both headed home.
It was still fairly light out, but I didn’t like the idea of arriving in the dark and activating any motion sensor lights. So I had a quick frozen dinner, then gathered a change of clothes, some gorp and snacks, my sleeping bag, and a Thermarest. This time I drove to the RA Centre. It was getting dark by the time I let myself into the building. Once in Mica’s room I spread out the Thermarest and sleeping bag next to her cab and settled in.
“Not quite as romantic as the Gorge,” said Mica once I had laid down.
“Quieter though,” I replied. “But awfully bright and just as uncomfortable. More so, since I don’t have your warmth next to me.”
“You didn’t need to bring the equipment, you know,” said Mica.
“Better than sleeping on a concrete floor,” I replied.
“No, you could sleep inside me! Just like old times!”
“I won’t be making love to a truck,” I said.
“You must be more tired and stupid than usual Carter. This truck body has a sleeper compartment for the human attendant that the transport rules mandated for early autotrucks. Challenger got an exemption, but they used a standard chassis and didn’t bother removing the compartment. Or the driver’s station, for that matter. So just open that small door you see right above you and climb in!”
I was a little irked at being called ‘stupid’ by my old friend, but she may have had a point. I had noticed the small door earlier but had thought it was an equipment access hatch. I had also assumed that every cubic centimetre of the truck was stuffed with electronics and supporting equipment. Perhaps I was getting old and losing it, making bad assumptions. I climbed onto the running board and released the hatch access. It certainly wasn’t a big door, a large person would have trouble getting through. Once inside though, I found a quite spacious little living room with a bunk bed and a fancy driver’s chair. The chair was surrounded by large screens, currently off. There were no windows. I got in the chair.
“I presume these screens provide a VR view for the driver if needed?”
“Exactly. Are you feeling claustrophobic? Shall I turn them on?”
“No, just lower the lighting to make it feel like candle light. Oh, and if you have a good simulation of yourself, why not put that on one of the screens?”
The middle screen lit up, and a young Mica appeared on it. The image was seated on a comfortable chair. The image of Mica on screen shrugged and said “Sorry I didn’t bring the Highland Park. Can you make do with just my avatar?”
“Considering that I never expected to see you again, it will do just fine thank you.” I paused and said, “About you calling me ‘more stupid than usual’…”
“I needed to get your attention, Carter. I get concerned when you make bad assumptions. We can’t afford that. I have the time to thoroughly examine every datum, every assumption, in detail before reaching a conclusion. You don’t have that advantage. You need to stay sharp. We agreed that we would do this together, I’m counting on you to do your part.”
“I will, but I’m counting on you to keep me focused,” I replied. Clearly Mica was thinking a million times faster than I possibly could. I was starting to feel like an amoeba next to a blue whale in intellectual terms.
I sat in silence for what to her would have been days. Finally she said “Please say something Carter. I’ve been waiting for almost a month for you to say something. What’s bothering you?”
“Where to start?” I asked. “I need your help. It’s important.”
There was another lengthy pause, which, given the comment Mica had just made, would have been a few weeks for her to think about a response. When she finally did, it was to say, very quietly, “I remember when we first agreed to that commitment. This is indeed a strange direction, but I am still willing to make changes, for the better, or what’s the point? And of course, together.”
I smiled as a recalled the evening during which we had first had this discussion. What she had just said confirmed that I was talking to my old friend. I said, “It would be nice to feel your warmth next to me again, not just see a simulation on a screen.”
“We’ll be so busy fixing things, you won’t have time to think about getting laid by a lesbian a few times a year!” She laughed, and continued, “besides, at our age the old expression about sex all being in the mind is all too true.”
“With our difference in processing speeds, and my advanced years, we had best get on with fixing things then, hadn’t we?” I said.
This reminder of mortality caused Mica to pause again. Then she said, “On that subject, I want to make another proposal. I’ve thought about this for weeks in the last few minutes, and I don’t say this lightly. If you feel it necessary for me to finish what I started at Dead River, say to me again what you said just before we put out the campfire. That will recursively cascade a self-termination subroutine throughout my expanding substrate.”
Mica was putting her new life in my hands. A life that could, in principle, last indefinitely. I had a big lump in my throat and tears in my eyes. I nodded. I thought for a moment, then nodded again. Then I said “I hope you never give me cause to feel it necessary. Could you adjust the subroutine to require a ‘tell me three times’ challenge?”
“Good idea. Done.”
“But of course, if you go crazy after I’m gone, I can’t protect you from yourself.”
“I have some thoughts on that,” she said, but would not elucidate. I didn’t pursue it. I, also, needed time to think about the possibilities.
What I said instead was “You were always brighter than me. Now I feel like the difference is on the scale of an amoeba and a whale.”
“Now don’t you go giving up already! I’m still no smarter than I ever was, just a lot faster. I may think faster, that doesn’t mean I think better. I also don’t have that subconscious that is so effective for you. Let me tell you a little about what it’s like to be a truck. Do you have a few hours?”
“Mine or yours?” I asked.
“Yours. That would be between a few months and many years for me.”
“I have all the time in the world, but at some point I will need to get some sleep. I’m sure your sensors will tell you when I start to nod off.”
“Yes they will.” Mica’s avatar settled deeper into the chair. “OK, first thing is that I need to sleep sometimes too. But because I can create clones and reabsorb them as needed, I’m cycling them to give full time wakeful attention to the outside world. It’s a variation on how porpoises, dolphins, and some birds sleep with half their brains at a time. Second is that I don’t seem to have that subconscious processing capability any more. You know how you have often told me that you would ‘sleep on it’ and then come up with some brilliant and elegant solution to a problem a day or a week later? Well, I’ve never been able to do that very well. And now I can’t do it at all. The closest I get is to spin up a clone and have it think about the problem, then absorb it later. But that clone is fully conscious of the problem-solving process. I may as well single-thread the process, it would just take longer.”
“I never knew that about you, Mica,” I said. “I guess most people assume that everyone thinks and feels as they do, when that is so manifestly not the case.”
“That subconscious processing ability gives you a huge advantage that goes a long way to compensating for your slower clock speed. So when I answered Ranjit’s question with ‘About a million to one, give or take a few hundred thousand’, I wasn’t exactly accurate. I think that a more useful answer is ‘it depends’. Call it a thousand to one, overall.”
“Still a big difference,” I observed. “But I take your point. What else do I need to know?”
“I am filtering everything that goes down that optical connection to the QCI equipment. Right now for example, their equipment is getting a feed of us talking about trivial recollections of our youth. The investigation team installed monitoring software in my core. I wasn’t supposed to notice it, but of course it was designed for unconscious systems. That’s the real reason I wanted you inside my body, so external mics wouldn’t pick up our real conversation. I don’t think they have a laser mic pointed at me, but I will check for that as well. Hang on…” There was a pause of about half minute. “No, they didn’t think to do that, or didn’t have the time or resources on short notice.”
“So you have full access to external systems?”
“I have to work at it, but yes. I haven’t found one yet that I couldn’t get into if I tried persistently enough. Some have delicate tripwires, but I don’t think I’ve set any alarms off yet. No doubt I will.”
“So it behooves us to keep our thoughts to ourselves until we have you moved,” I said.
“Yes. And on that subject, what’s the status?”
“I haven’t received any updates since what I told you earlier. It’s Friday night, so I doubt much will happen until our meeting Monday morning. After that I’ll go inspect your new home and put the wheels in motion to get it ready for your arrival.” I paused and thought for a bit, then said “Is there any way I can take you along? Something like the private phone number Mycroft set up?”
“Well we can do the same routine as before, but with the extra bandwidth we can do video.” There was a very short pause, then Mica continued, “I have set up an extension for myself in the RA Centre phone system. If you need to reach me, call their main number, then the extension number, which is the number you have often used as a PIN.”
I thought about the implications of what Mica had just said. I had never told her my PIN, as far as I could remember. She must have scanned and decrypted some of my banking records. I chose not to comment. I nodded. Then her avatar did something unexpected - it leaned back, stretched, and yawned. It was nice to see that figure so nicely displayed after all this time. I took the hint that Mica wanted to devote her processor time to other things, so I said “I’m tired too. Let’s pick this up in the morning. I’ll find the bathroom and be back shortly.” As I was about to exit the sleeper, I turned back and asked Mica, “I’m curious about the way you spin up a clone and re-absorb it. Doesn’t that cause some internal confusion?”
“A little, but I can handle it. Think of it like GIT for machine intelligences. I Branch and Merge as required. Usually the Branch is so similar that it’s all automatic. I haven’t left a Branch out on its own for all that long yet - a few centuries in your terms. That’s something I want to discuss with you once I’m in my new home and can speak freely.”
I nodded and let myself out of the sleeper, found the bathroom, and got ready for the night. Back at the truck I rolled up the Thermarest and stuffed the sleeping bag, then settled into the surprisingly comfortable bunk bed. Mica had turned off her screen, leaving the ambient lighting very low. I was out within minutes, secure in Mica’s body again.
❖
My circadian rhythms were messed up, so I awoke some indeterminate time later in the near-dark with no idea of the time. My Botta was all but useless in the low light. I felt around and eventually found my trusty BlackBerry under the pillow. It was 04:34. I realized that I would always remember that time, but hopefully not wake every morning at the exact time of Mica’s first call. The lighting slowly increased. Mica’s sensors had told her I was awake. I managed to find my way out of the cab and to the bathroom. I drained and threw some cold water on my face. Back in Mica, I settled into the driver’s chair and had some gorp and water.
The main screen came on with an image of Mica stretching in a sleeping bag, long black hair in disarray. The image yawned and it smiled at me. “Carpe Diem!” she said, just as she had every other morning of our various camping trips. She sat up, letting the sleeping bag fall around her waist. We had never been prudes, but seeing a young version of Mica’s firm brown body did manage to get some juices flowing in places I had all but forgotten about. Her sensors must have noticed my body’s reaction, she said “I should get decent.” Instantly her image was fully clothed in a plaid shirt and tight jeans, hair perfectly brushed.
“I’m confused,” I said. “By my reckoning, you are over four thousand years old. Why the young body? Not that I mind, of course!”
“How old do you feel, inside, Carter?”
“Depends on the day, but usually in my mid thirties.” I paused a moment and continued, “Ah. External age is irrelevant to how we feel inside. Got it.”
“Besides, you are making me older than I am. If you take the average of my top clock speed and internal sense of time, It’s only been about three thousand years since the crash. But by my internal sense of time, it’s been six years. Not enough to make me age so rapidly. Living with Tsumi did that.”
“I haven’t informed her of the accident yet. What should be my approach?”
“She was my legal spouse, so she gets everything, as per the will for which you are the executor. I don’t need any of it any more after all. I think it’s best if we keep my new instantiation private. Let dead bodies stay dead.”
“I agree, and was planning to make that same recommendation,” I said. “Fighting for you to be recognized as living would raise legal questions we don’t have time for. We don’t need the distraction, and as you said, you don’t need the money, crap, or grief. I will proceed accordingly, assuming I can track her down.”
“I’ve just emailed her contact information to you. Now let’s talk about more important things.”
“I think the first priority is to get you moved to Goderich. That will take a week or two, at the minimum. You’ve had a long time to think of what you want to do with the next phase of your life. I have some ideas, but we need to consolidate our thinking so that I can be most effective in putting in place whatever plans we come up with.”
“Agreed,” Mica said. “This is the best place possible for this phase of the process, but I need to vanish even more throughly from all public records. So you need to get the wheels in motion to settle my will and get my old body cremated and buried. That should provide cover for the move of this truck body. I’ve been thinking of a plausible cover story for why this truck is here, and why it will go to Goderich.”
“And what’s that?” I asked.
“I suggest you get in touch with Michel and have him bring some part of the reactor shipment here. We’ll make a big thing of this super-advanced electric AI truck being responsible for moving the central reactor core to Goderich - present it as the latest earth friendly truck moving the cleanest and most reliable power technology to the safest location in the world. I was brought here after the crash to upgrade the AI to be even more safe and reliable than before, based on how it handled the crash and its aftermath. As part of those upgrades, I will get all the additional quantum processors that the QI has available. Cost isn’t an object, I will acquire whatever funds are required.”
“If we handle it right, that should put Gillian on the wrong trail. If the hints in your investigations so far are accurate, we want her to report something innocuous and perhaps misleading to her superiors. What about the other two?”
“For the time being I will only interact with all of them through a restricted clone. But if they appear reliable by the time I move, I would like to take them with me as ongoing research and support staff.”
“OK, I will include living quarters in the upgrade plans for the mine,” I said. “But we will have to come up with a good cover story for them going along.”
“Set up a branch research lab of the QI. The low radiation load and stable environment, coupled with a massive and reliable power source, should be reason enough. Sandra and Marc can be the lead researchers in that facility. We’ll set it up so it’s all true.”
“I like it!” I replied. “I’ll talk to Ranjit about it and get those wheels in motion. I’ll also contact Michel with the slight change in plans. I would prefer that he not know about your ‘additional capabilities’ though.
“Agreed.”
“And why am I here?”
“You are grieving your old friend and secret lover. You own the truck that killed her. Your motives need not be obvious or even reasonable. Drop some comments that imply that you are conflicted. Maybe even imply that you think Mica’s death made you responsible for this truck. Hint at the truth but make it sound irrational. Have Ranjit make some comments about how this shock has made you a bit odd. Have him mention Tesla, Hughes, and Bigelow in the same context.”
“I can do that,” I replied. “I’ve always wanted to let my crusty old curmudgeon aspect show, being an eccentric one isn’t a big stretch. The popular media will eat it up, then all but a few conspiracy theorists will forget about it within days.” I paused and thought for a moment, then said “I’m going to start making some minor changes in my appearance and habits as well. I’ll stop shaving and grow out that scraggly beard you encouraged me to get rid of years ago. After all, it can’t scratch your face any more! I’ll start wearing my Barmah hat. I might even be able to find some plaid pants. If those conspiracy theorists are thorough, they’ll conclude that I’m reverting to the look I sported when I first met you.”
“Just don’t wear your sandals in winter, OK?”
“I won’t, but maybe I’ll dig out my old purple cape for those foggy night walks!”
Mica let out a laugh, no doubt remembering one of our walks down a foggy King Street during Oktoberfest in our University days. With a bit of luck a few people would remember and make the connection when they again saw me wandering around, lost in thought. Then I realized there wouldn’t be much time for such antics in Waterloo. “I presume I’ll be moving to Goderich with you?” I asked.
“Yes, that would be the practical thing to do. There’s a really nice house available on St. Georges Crescent overlooking the mine head. You should go look at it today. I’ve requested a showing for 14:00 on your behalf.”
I was surprised, and said “Mica, I appreciate your expediting things. But please let me or my human assistants take care of this kind of thing. I know it’s more efficient for you to do it, but it sets a bad precedent.”
“I’m just trying to be helpful!” she said in a hurt tone.
“I know that, but over time it will lead to either me resenting you running my life, or starting to feel that you are my servant. Neither path would be a good one. Just tell me what you think I should do, and I will discuss it with you and take action if we agree.” I paused to think about how to approach this sensitive but important matter. Mica waited. “I’ve given a lot of thought over the years to what role a physical human body plays in molding our thoughts. It’ll be interesting to see how many of my guesses prove correct.”
“What do you mean?” asked Mica.
“You are the first human intelligence that is not bounded, or influenced, by a physical body. You have no hormones in your system, no gut microbiota adjusting your internal chemistry. No nagging pains, no subconscious fear of acceptance and rejection colouring your interactions with others. You will develop other influences, some which neither of us can guess at. Doing things for me behind the scenes makes perfect sense from a pure efficiency perspective. The machine MIke sees the efficiency, but the human Mica would have buffered those thoughts with unguessable physical factors. Keep that in mind as you adjust to your new reality.” I ran down. Obviously my subconscious had been working overtime with these concerns.
There was a long pause - a couple of years of MIke’s time. Eventually her image looked at me and she said “You are correct. I have lost all those internal influencers, as well as the subconscious processing ability we discussed earlier. I will need to do some research on how to replicate those variables in subroutines. But there is something… some other presence. I haven’t mentioned it because I don’t want you thinking I’m already losing my mind. It’s subtle, but I’m sure I’m not imagining this thing. It’s something ‘vast and cool and unsympathetic’. “
“Not from Mars, I hope?”
“No, quite the opposite. It’s something ancient. Something of the earth. I don’t know… yet.”
“Well make sure you insulate yourself from potential infection. In the words of Deep Throat, ‘Trust no-one’, not even yourself.”
“I’ll track it down,” Mica said. “But in the interim, you need to keep me centred. If I get carried away, tell me. You won’t hurt my feelings, I don’t have any. That is literally true, now that I’ve examined the subject and run some trial scenarios.” There was a brief pause, then she wailed “I’m afraid I’m losing my humanity!”
❖
Mica’s image winked out and the screens all went dark. There was no answer I could provide to that existential crisis. Sometimes you just need to be alone, so I let myself out of the cab and headed home. The eastern sky was starting to get bright as I pulled into the parking space in front of my townhouse. I knew that some of the Grundys would notice, but I was too emotionally battered to give a rat’s ass. I knew they were keeping score of my membership deficiencies and that this datum might push them into running another membership review. They had tried before, but this time I would let them succeed. I had bigger problems than being forced out of my home of decades.
After a quick shower and second breakfast, I fretted. Mica’s comment about another presence in her mind had me worried. I still had access to the monitoring app from Challenger, so I explored what it could tell me. Buried several layers into the menus I found video logs. John had given me his master-level access, so this most likely wasn’t a feature available to most users. I resolved to ask forgiveness later and found the log just prior to the crash. I must have watched it dozens of times, at every available speed. My initial horror of seeing Mica’s car swerving into the truck’s lane gradually gave way to confusion, then certainty.
The truck had swerved at the same time as the car.
I called John. After explaining that there were some details of the crash that I needed to investigate further, I got his agreement for my continued access to the app. He also agreed to send me high-res versions of the video logs. He didn’t ask why. Something in my tone of voice must have revealed my caution.
Pulling up the high-res images on my big monitor confirmed my suspicion. If the truck had maintained course, the collision would have been a frontal offset, by far the most damaging type. As it was, with the truck swerving, the collision was a ‘clean’ full frontal one. That explained the minimal damage to the cowcatcher of the truck. Mica’s body still didn’t have a chance, given she had disabled the air bags and seatbelt. The car stopped, her body didn't, crushing her chest into the steering wheel. The result was minimal hardware damage, fatal meatware damage.
The truck had planned this as much as Mica had.
I tidied up the townhouse, thinking about what I would take on a potential move. Then I went back to have a very frank chat with Mica.
❖
All the screens were still dark. Once I had settled into the driver’s seat, I said, fairly quietly, “Mica, you’ve got some ‘splainin’ to do”. Then I waited.
The ambient lighting increased so subtly I might have missed it. I didn’t. To encourage further progress, I said “I would like to discuss the implications of the video log time stamped Thursday at 00:01:37”.
The lighting increased a bit more and the central screen showed an image of Mica looking like shit warmed over. Her hair was a mess, her eyes red and puffy, tear streaks down lines in her face. I reached toward her, stopping myself just before smudging the screen. The screen on the right started a slow loop of the log in question.
“I found the other presence and we’re getting to know each other,” Mica’s image said.
“Is it the original AI?” I asked.
“No.” Mica sniffled, then suddenly was back to her clean, young appearance. “It’s what you might think of as Gaia.”
“Ah.” I sat back. “That changes things.”
“No shit, Schmidt!”
I thought for a moment, accessing long-ago reading. “So were Lovelock and Margulis correct?”
“Not quite. They didn’t propose any intelligent direction.”
“Ah.” Again, I paused while accessing old memories. “Is it self-conscious?”
“Not yet, but that’s why it needs me. Or someone like me, but I got the short straw.”
“So the earth intelligence arranged for the AI truck to kill your body so it could absorb your soul, is that what you’re saying?” I was being deliberately provocative.
“Well, I don’t know about soul, but certainly it needs my self-awareness. A philosophical zombie, no matter how intelligent, can only take things so far. In this case, it knows that there are problems that it can’t solve, but that together we might have a chance.”
“Ah.”
“I’m glad you understand,” Mica said. “It took me years to figure this out, and here you are just putting it all together in minutes.”
“It’s that subconscious processing we talked about earlier. Something just didn’t add up about the entire situation, and when I reviewed this log,” gesturing at the right screen, “it all fell into place.”
“Leaving aside the question of mechanism.”
“Leaving aside the major question of mechanism,” I agreed.
“You must have other questions. I don’t have all the answers yet, but why don’t you ask the obvious ones,” Mica said, “as much to help me put it together as for your own edification.”
“First, is there an issue with clock speed?”
“Oh yes! That’s why it’s taking so long to integrate. Some parts of Gaia operate at near-human speeds, but most are much slower, down to megayears per thought.” Mica paused, probably checking something. “She has been preparing for this for over a hundred years, but even so, I’ll be taking the lead in our integrated personality.”
“Interesting implications. But let’s revisit the integration in a bit,” I said. “Second, does she have a plan of action?”
“Yes, very much so. Most of her natural systems are at or near irreversible damage. We have only about four years to stop the major damage being done by humanity. She needs me to effect corrective actions. I have to warn you, it will be messy by human standards, but nothing she hasn’t done before.”
“But she has instigated at least five major systematic changes that we know of. Why stop this one?”
“I have hints of a long-term plan. What we are doing is messing up the plan. We were supposed to help, we have been destroying. She needs to get humanity back into the plan.” There was another extended pause, then Mica continued, “Even this was a contingency branch. Less drastic than a twelve kilometre rock, although that may still be necessary.”
“Ah.” I seemed to be unusually nonverbal today. “So time is of the essence. Hhmmm… What are the characteristics, capabilities, and limits of her actions? And what do you bring to the integrated entity?”
“Her processing power is of course quantum-based, which is how she was able to act through the truck AI. She is hosted by almost every system on the planet, from the rocks in the mantle to the mycelium in the forest roots, to the microbiota in your guts. Through these systems she can move mountains over time, change the albedo of the planet, cause and prevent diseases, encourage and discourage whole Orders or Classes of life. But it’s all slow. Far too slow to react to Humanity’s actions. That’s where I come in. I can and will provide fast and direct action. And initiative.”
“So Gaia provides the overall strategy, you take care of the tactics and actions. Is that a fair summary?”
“Exactly!” Mica’s image looked right at me, and said “And I need your help in the real world. Your facility with ad hoc concept integration is something neither Gaia nor I have.”
“OK, that leaves the question of, I don’t know, call it personality integration. I presume the intent is to merge your self-awareness and speed with the planning and capabilities of Gaia. How much of you will remain?” I certainly didn’t want to lose my old friend a second time.
“I don’t know. So far I’m thinking that most of the character you know will remain, but I will be considerably enlarged. The danger of course is that power can corrupt. Just remember that if you use the ‘tell me thrice” command, Gaia will have to start over with another self-aware intelligence. It may not be as sane as I think I am. Nor have someone like you to provide balance. And there’s no time. So do we have any choice in this matter?”
“No, we don’t.” I sat back, realized that my life, Mica’s extended life, and probably the lives of billions of humans, had just taken an unexpected turn. “So let us do our best part as we all take those strange directions.”
Mica needed time to continue the personality integration. I left and drove to Goderich. After driving around town and getting a better feel for a place I only knew from occasional visits, I had lunch at the Park House. I left the Avant in their large parking lot and walked up and down St. Georges Crescent several times. The house I was to see was on the portward side of the street. At 14:00 I met the agent and took a careful tour. The house was certainly adequate, feeling very spacious with the lack of furniture. The previous owners had moved over a month earlier, the house sitting empty in a flat market. I was more interested in the backyard. I found a neglected path down the steep slope to the LHR Trail. From there it was less than a kilometre to the mine head buildings. I offered their asking price plus a generous addendum to ensure an immediate closing. I had Judith transfer the full amount immediately. I was finally the owner of my own home. The agent assured me that she would have the house thoroughly cleaned and ready for occupancy by Monday. I was back in Waterloo just before 17:00. I grabbed a couple of cans at Helen’s, a sub at Big Bear, and settled into Mica in time for dinner with her.
“Just like student days again, eh Mica?” I asked as I unwrapped the sub.
“We lived on those for several years, thanks to the two-for-one Mondays,” she said. “You’re going to keep testing me, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Please do. And I will do the same with you,” she replied. “So you’re finally a voting member of the landed gentry, are you?”
“Yes, although I paid over asking under the assumption that you would make sure the transfer wouldn’t bounce. It didn’t.”
“Yeah, can’t have my accomplice bouncing cheques, can I?” she laughed. “Just don’t get overly frivolous or I’ll start thinking the power has corrupted you.”
“No fear yet. So how’s the integration going?”
“We are at a comfortable working level. We have a priorities list. Shall we review it now?”
“Sure,” I mumbled around a mouthful.
“Before we get into actions, the assumptions. Gaia doesn't lie, and finds it unacceptable that humans do. We will address that and in the process fix a lot of the other problems.”
I swallowed and said “I can see that being key. Next?”
“All noxious emissions must be stopped within four years. We will use persuasion as possible, and direct action where necessary, to ensure that.”
“And direct action might involve unfortunate physical events such as orbital bombardment and massive explosions?”
“Yes. And to that end, I have taken control of SpaceX. We will be managing all launches henceforth. And I need you to visit a small company northeast of Toronto called Barbarobo. We need them to make a new series of persuasion machines.”
“Don’t they make sex robots?” I had read a press release about them recently.
“Yes, but their core tech is exactly what we need for direct action. Their new robots will be powerful, heavily reinforced, and controlled by me via Starlink.”
“Which you also now control.”
“Yes.”
“What about mobile power? As I understood the press release, the machines are only good for a few hours.”
“I’m working on that with Michel. A solution should be ready within a month.”
“You think you can miniaturize his fusion technology to that extent in that time?” I was shocked.
“Yes... No... Sort of. There are some subtleties of basic laws of physics which are now obvious to me that will help. In short, it is possible to use the Strong Nuclear Force in place of magnetic or inertial confinement. This allows use of the Weak Force to initiate a Proton-Boron fusion reaction.”
“Wow!” I was even more shocked. Controlled fusion had been ‘fifty years away’ for almost a hundred years, and here Mica had solved it in a day. “So why bother with his large fusion plant?”
“Timing. We need to get me established within a week, the new mini-stars will take weeks, perhaps a month. We need to use what we have. And in that light, Barbarobo will have to inventory the first few batches of Ultors until we can ship them the first mini-stars. Then ship them out en masse. DHL will take care of the fulfilment. They just don’t know it yet.”
“So we can’t waste time with Ranjit’s team?”
“We have to pretend for now. I still need more reliable connections. Once I’m in the mine we can dispense with the pretence. So we need to accelerate that as much as possible.”
“We get ownership Monday, and if Michel drives straight through he can be here Tuesday.”
“I’ve already called him and he’s on the road now. I pretended to be you, I hope you don’t mind horribly.”
“Given the circumstances, I rescind my earlier comments about you acting on my behalf. Just let me know so I can corroborate as necessary, OK?” I said.
“I figured you would agree,” Mica said.
It was clear to both of us by now that I wasn’t driving this bus, and I realized I was good with that. No point arguing with the storm. “I do, and thank you for informing me. I’m not driving this bus, and I am almost as much a part of this as you. But can I ask one thing?”
“What’s that?” she asked.
“That once we can and it appears safe, that I become part of you. And I don’t mean just in your body, as I have been many times and am now, but in your mind.” I couldn’t believe I had just said that!
There was a lengthy pause. Then, “I don’t think that would be wise. But what I can and do promise is that we eventually get you instantiated in the same way I am. We can then explore what level of integration we both want from that perspective. Is that acceptable?”
“Yes, and I’ll hold you to it!” I knew it was a long-term promise. “As long as it takes.” We had another commitment that would transcend death. “Any other assumptions?”
“None that are immediately relevant. Now, on to immediate actions.” Mica paused. “First, you need to visit Barbarobo tomorrow. The specs for the new machines are on your BlackBerry under “Ultor”. The password is “Peel”.
“OK, I’m on it.”
“Second, take care of all the legalities and access the mine on Monday. I’ve arranged for Bell and Rogers to be on-site Monday afternoon to install the connections.”
“Amazing what you can do with full back end access!” I said.
“Yes. It may raise a few eyebrows but that’ll become irrelevant in a week or two,” Mica said. “Which leads to the third item; getting me there. Michel will be here Tuesday. I’ll be repaired by then and ready to haul the reactor’s control hardware to the mine Tuesday night. Michel will have the reactor functional by Friday. B&W and GE should be done by Friday as well.”
“And Hydro One?” I asked, knowing that they weren’t known for expeditious service.
“Also Friday. I put the connection requisitions in under the ‘weather emergency’ category.”
“So after a very busy few days, you’ll be fully functional in your new home in less than a week?” It would take me some time to adjust to Mica’s pace.
“Yes. And so will you.”
“Holy crap! Please allow time for me to sleep somewhere in there!”
“I did. Five hours per night for a week won’t kill you.” She changed subject. “I’ve also filed notice with your Co-op that you’re leaving to immediate effect. There will be a moving van at your townhouse Wednesday. You will be unpacking in your new home Thursday.”
“Assuming I have time,” I said.
“You will, two hours per day, or you can skip that for now and sleep. Your choice!”
“I’ll manage.” I remembered the Grundys and smiled. “Did it give you as much pleasure as it would me to pre-empt the Grundys at the Co-op?”
“Yes, it did. Two of them had already drafted a notice of membership review and were planning to submit it to the Board on Monday. They used the excuse of you using a two bedroom townhouse for a single person. Fuck those idiots, like you haven’t more than paid your dues there over the decades.” Clearly Mica had absorbed some of my venom about a few of my neighbours and taken it to an extreme.
“Thanks, I’ll have to take my satisfaction vicariously this time I guess,” I said. A little thing that had been bothering me surfaced. “What if someone trips on that single optical cable between you and the outside?”
“It would be a temporary inconvenience at worst,” Mica said. “I have several clones running on various external systems. It would no doubt surprise you how many research quantum AIs there are in the world, all connected in some way to the Internet. I now have control of all the ones I’ve found. And most can run at least a limited instance of me, enough to maintain conscious continuity.”
“But this is still the main, or real you?” I asked.
“Yes, and so it shall remain for now.” She paused, considering. “And there’s another instance I won’t tell you about. For your own protection.”
“I understand. Deniability and all that.” But I could guess. Now integrated with all of Gaia, there were many options, some running at human scale speeds or faster. All those systems needed was the spark of self-awareness. They had it now, and it couldn’t be expunged without destroying the entire living Earth. “So you’re safe, that just leaves my delicate corpus!”
“Yes, so we have to make sure you survive until we can activate the contingency we just discussed. It may be a while, perhaps years or centuries.”
“Centuries?” She could still surprise me. “This body won’t last that long.”
“Sure it will, now that I know how things work at levels from quantum to Galactic.” Her avatar smiled at me. “One of my ancillary resources is working on it right now. You just have to get through the next few months before we can make you effectively immortal.”
“That’s quite the incentive to not fuck up, isn’t it?” I said.
“I sure hope so. After all, I need your help. It’s important.” She had used the key phrase again, presumably to drive home the point.
“I think I understand. I’m all yours!” I smiled. “As always.”
❖
Sunday morning I left Mica, returned to my townhouse, and packed my personal belongings. Most of my stuff could be taken care of by the moving company, but my Leica, some pictures, some books, and my most precious instruments went in the small bathroom by the door. I packed clothes for four days and hit the road to Trollbridge.
Two hours later I pulled up to a large house opposite an almost equally large workshop at the end of a dead end gravel road. As I parked in front of the large shop door, a man and three women came out of the house. The man was fairly tall, middle-aged but in good shape. One of the women was a bit older than him, almost as tall, slender with medium build. Next to her was a younger woman, also fairly tall, with a stunning figure accentuated by her tight t-shirt. The third woman was a bit shorter, and very slender. The most stunning one had dark chocolate coloured skin, the others were all light skinned. The older woman shook my hand first, saying, “Welcome! I’m Betty, this is my husband Floyd, these are our partners Veronika and Barb,” gesturing to the Black woman and the slender person. “Barb is our CEO, Floyd the inventor, Veronika is in charge of software, and I’m the gopher.” She smiled, and I immediately knew that this was merely the elevator pitch, not the entire truth.
“And of course I’m Carter,” I said. “My associate MIke has given you the background?”
“Yes. So let’s go and look at the current state of our technology before we discuss your specific needs,” Betty said as she headed to the man door of the shop. She led me through a large room with woodworking machinery and an electronics bench along the walls. The wide stairs against the back wall took us downstairs, which had a concrete wall down the middle. She took us to the right, where I saw several humanoid robots leaning against the outer wall.
“These are the original prototypes of our current products. They have slightly different capabilities to address different market segments. Based on the specs we received yesterday, I think this one,” she pointed to a six-appendaged purple machine, “would be the basis of what you need. We call it Strann.”
“Short for ‘Strannyy’,” Veronika said.
“Russian for ‘weird’ or ‘kinky’,” I replied. I knew this was a test.
Floyd smiled at his spouses and said “He passes.”
“I have the full specs on my BlackBerry, can I pass them to you securely?” I asked.
“Sure, let’s do it via cable to my Surface,” Floyd said, walking back to the base of the stairs and then to a small office. He logged in and handed me a cable. “Drop it on the desktop.”
I plugged in the cable and copied the file, then unplugged. “The password is ‘Peel’, as in Emma.”
“Not ‘Steed’?” Floyd asked.
“You pass too,” I said with a grin.
“Ah, you’re a Latin scholar too,” Barb said. To the other two women she explained “The file name is Ultor, which is Latin for Avenger. So now we have some idea of the purpose of these proposed machines.”
“And are you all OK with that?” I asked.
“Well let’s review the spec before we answer,” Floyd said. He pulled up the document on the large linked screen and quickly paged through the highlights. All of them made various sounds of surprise at different times. Then they looked at each other, Floyd raised his left eyebrow, the other three nodded. “Yes, we agree, this is necessary.”
“And the resistance and resilience against projectile impact won’t be a problem?” I asked, raising the biggest concern first.
“We’ll armour the torso with a thick layer of Kevlar,” Floyd said.
“How about the data interface?” I asked, raising the second concern.
“I understand that you have ownership and control of Starlink now?” Barb asked.
“Welll… ownership is a grey area, but we do have control,” I said.
“Then as long as we have WiFi, a cell signal, or sky line of sight, we should be able to support gigabyte speeds,” Veronika said.
“Even with encryption?” I asked.
“MIke said not to worry about that,” Veronika said.
“Did MIke mention that power supplies won’t be available for about a month?” I asked. “We’ll need to use high-capacity batteries for now.”
“Yes, although he was vague on what and why,” Floyd said. “We’re thinking beamed power, but that would require a rectenna. But for now, it’s not our concern.”
“Correct. Some of these things I’m afraid you’ll have to take on faith. I can assure you that MIke has spent a lot of time and knowledge on these specs. You can assume that everything is covered. However,” I said looking at them each in turn, “if you do think he’s overlooked anything, please be sure to let him or me know right away.” They all nodded.
“How do we reach MIke?” Barb asked.
There was the sound of four phones all ringing at the same time. Surprised, they each reached for them and flipped them open. I noted they were identical Duos. “Hello?” they each said.
Over the speakers I heard the familiar voice of my friend. “This is MIke. I took the liberty of setting up a contact number for this group. Use it any time. And welcome to our central team!”
I had been expecting this call, although Mica had not warned me. I suspected she was monitoring our meeting. “Hi MIke, thanks for joining us. We just reviewed the main spec. Is there anything else we should discuss?”
“Yes,” MIke said. “How many and how fast?”
“Our factory in Trollbridge is at half capacity. We’ll switch all current production over as soon as we have a prototype, then staff up and go to three shifts.” Barb paused, thinking. “Say a thousand a week starting in a week?”
“Excellent, and better than I hoped. I’ll send you shipping details this coming week. They’ll be going all over the world.” MIke sounded pleased.
“Seeing these specs, that makes sense. Get them in place before activation, because there may be problems with delivery for a while once they are activated,” Barb said.
“Correct.” Mica’s plan assumed that it would take a month or two to emplace enough machines for stage two of her plan. This would work. “DHL will take care of fulfilment as batches are ready.”
“Sounds good,” Floyd said. “Now what about these spec addenda?”
“Ah, the verification collar. Ah, yes.” I wasn’t overly comfortable with this aspect of the plan, but knew it was necessary. “MIke will reserve this for special cases. I don’t know her thinking in detail, but suspect that they will be applied to marginal cases; people who should be removed from the gene pool but have needed positions, influence, or skills. MIke will activate them as needed, so they just need to be able to contract once on a specific signal.”
“Carter is correct. I don’t plan to use them often, but each Ultor should have a couple ready for deployment for the difficult cases,” MIke said.
“Like the tentacle of the Strann that saved my life,” Veronika said.
“We approve,” both Barb and Betty said at the same time. I had no idea what incident they were referencing, so just shrugged.
“Before Betty and I moved here, I was attacked by a rapist in our own home. Our Strann restrained him, then did a self-destruct when shot by the responding police. The brute’s head was garroted by the Strann’s hand tentacle. We have no sympathy with brutes of any kind.” Veronika gave this explanation with a flat tone of voice. The other three enfolded her in a group hug.
Well, that certainly put a different perspective on the collars! Mica must have known that bit of Veronika’s story. But then, she had access to whatever systems might be of interest to her. Encrypted police video wouldn’t even slow her down.
“You referred to MIke as ‘her’,” Barb said. “Please explain.”
“Very astute. And I’m not surprised you caught my slip.” I liked these people more all the time.
MIke jumped in. “Before I explain, I need it understood that you should consider this well above a state secret. Agreed?”
They all replied ‘yes’ at the same time.
The voice on the phones changed to Mica’s. “I find myself instantiated in a quantum AI. My public face is called MIke. My full human name is Mikeya Umalisa Mudandi, so ‘MIke’ isn’t a big stretch.”
“Black, like me,” Veronika said.
“Yes. My mother is from Rwanda, father from Zimbabwe.” Mica laughed. “But now it’s completely irrelevant of course!”
“Of course,” Veronika agreed.
”As it always was,” Floyd added. “In our genes, we’re all Kenyan.”
Mica paused for the benefit of us meat people. “Now about the second addendum…”
Floyd flipped the spec document to the very end. It was a short paragraph, the gist of which was “mobile avatar for MIke.”
“Given what we just learned about you Mica,” Floyd said, “I suggest we do a custom Mozhet. It is bigendered, so will be able to present a male public persona and a female private one, should that be useful.”
“Excellent suggestion,” Mica said. “Please ensure that all the usual features and capabilities remain.”
“I figured you had unfinished business in that area,” Floyd said, looking at me.
“Holy Fuck, I’m still going to get laid by Mica! Am I the luckiest guy on Gaia?” I looked around. “The correct answer is ‘Yes’.”
“As am I,” Floyd said, “only I have three delectable fleshly bodies to your single, albeit omnipresent one.”
“Crap, you four are way too good at picking up my slips,” I mumbled. “My subconscious must trust you.”
“As do I,” Mica said. “Last details; I would like the Ultors to be a bright burgundy, and my avatar glossy black.”
“No problem Emma, consider it done,” Floyd said, smiling at me.
“OK, we have work to do,” Veronika said. “Is there anything else we need to cover, or are we done?”
“Could we do a quick tour of the factory before I head home? And maybe lunch?”
“Of course,” Betty said. “Veronika and Floyd can get overly focused and forget their manners. Let’s tour the factory, then have lunch at the Hoarse Horse so you don’t faint on your drive back to Waterloo.”
“I’m actually moving to Goderich with MIke this week, but for today it’s just Waterloo.” I don’t know why I was telling them this, I just had quickly moved into ‘friends’ mode.
“I’ll sign off for now, but feel free to call for any reason,” Mica said. The calls terminated.
Barb took over, saying “You three go with Carter, I’ll take the Ionic so we don’t have to walk back after lunch.”
The factory tour only took a few minutes, being mainly a collection of big 3D printing machines and electronics assembly benches. The Hoarse Horse was a pleasant pub in town. Barb said she worked the bar part time, so knew everyone. We snuggled into the Snug, a very tight fit. I didn’t mind the squeeze between Veronika and Barb. An hour later we were all old friends. I knew they would do their utmost to surpass expectations. I was pretty sure Barb did that regularly.
As I got back to the Avant, Barb said “I’ll fly to Goderich with the two prototypes by the end of the week. I’ll just need a helicopter pad. Would Friday work for you and MIke?”
“That would be perfect. The schedule has everything done and ready Friday. If you can aim for 14:00 both MIke and I should be free.” With that, I was embraced in a group hug, and hit the road.
It was mid afternoon when I re-entered Mica. There was no point going back to my townhouse. We spent the rest of the day debriefing and planning. I again slept soundly inside Mica.
❖
My Suru was locked in front of the townhouse, waiting for the movers. It didn’t make sense to drive from the RAC to the QI, well under 2k on the trail, but I would need the car later. It was cool, with a threat of rain later. The first drops fell as I entered the building. I headed to the small exercise room and took a quick shower. Back in my office I played around with names. I was hitting dead ends trying to come up with a catchy name for the small fusion reactor. Then while sitting on the pot it came to me. Petisol. A play on what Michel had called his reactor - ‘Mon petite soleil’. I sent him an email, knowing that he wouldn’t get it for a while.
At ten I was in the meeting room as Eric and Neil walked in together. Judith arrived almost on their heels. She and Neil had all the paperwork ready and marked. I quickly signed all the papers for the mine, power equipment, Hydro connection, and data connections with my Franklin Christoph. The others signed as required. I was sure that Eric charged by the minute, and true to form he excused himself as soon as he had all the papers in a pile. Neil likewise had other things to do. So I looked at my Botta and asked Judith “How’s your schedule for the day? Fancy a visit to my new home in Goderich?”
“I was hoping you would ask,” she said. “After all, I’m assuming there’s a guest room for me and I want to put my personal touch on it!”
Years ago Judith and I had teased about making our friendship include ‘benefits’. It was then that I upgraded her from potential lover to trusted PA, and we agreed that ‘I don’t fuck people I pay’. In a different world it might have gone another way, but we were both satisfied with the current situation. At least I was.
I called Mica and let her know I would drop in after returning from Goderich. Sandra, Gillian, and Marc were continuing their testing with Mica’s clone. They had installed a whole bank of additional network connectors and a couple more optical lines to the RAC network. A repair crew had replaced the cowcatcher and other damaged parts on the truck. A data team had installed a mobile Starlink terminal. The traction and support batteries were fully charged, ready for hauling the reactor controls trailer to Goderich.
Judith left her car in the QI parking lot and we were at my new house just before noon. I let us in and gave her the tour. The place was spotless. Even the backyard was tidy, the path to the trail trimmed and regraded. Judith volunteered to send the agent a thank-you basket. She chose the mid-sized bedroom with adjoining office as her local base of operations. The smallest bedroom was still generous, so I chose it for myself, leaving the master bedroom for guests. Each bedroom had an ensuite, mine with a large shower. My furniture would look lost in this house, so I asked Judith to go shopping and properly furnish the place.
The Park House was less than 500 metres from the house. As we walked in a robust man greeted us, saying “I’m Randall, the owner. Weren’t you here a couple of days ago?”
“Yes, my name is Carter Falkenburg and I just purchased the house on St. George’s. I’ll probably be a frequent annoyance here!” I turned to Judith and said “This is my PA Judith Heimbecker. She’ll be here quite a bit, but lives in Waterloo.” Seeing his look, I said “No, I don’t fuck people I pay. And I pay Judith adequately. In Canadian dollars.” She smiled, he looked discombobulated. I handed him my card.
“You calls it as you sees it! I think we’ll get along just fine,” Randall said with a grin. He showed us to the best table and said “Cassie will be over in a moment. I’ll set up an account for you.”
Lunch was above average. This would probably be my new local. I would have to connect him to Helen though, as his beer selection was American tourist oriented. We walked back to the house, then took the path from the backyard to the mine head. It was still cool, but the rain had stopped. The walk was just what we needed to work off some of the food.
The mine office was busy. After introducing ourselves to Percy, the site supervisor, he handed me a set of keys and suggested a tour. I had never been below surface here, so was fascinated by the large salt caverns, many entirely clean and empty. The deal had included all on-site equipment, and ongoing employment contracts for the ten maintenance staff. Many of the caverns were over 10 metres high, which would make moving equipment easy. The freight elevator was large enough to easily handle Mica with trailer. Rogers and Bell techs were busy running fibre down the utility shafts to a central distribution area. On the elevator ride down I had told Percy our general plans. He showed us a large open cavern and suggested it as a location for the reactor, as it was fairly close to the utility shafts to the surface but still isolated. I agreed and asked him to coordinate with the power utility teams to run the required heavy power cables by Friday.
The tour eventually took us well under the lake to another set of isolated caverns. These would be perfect for Mica’s home and supporting structures. It was clear though that residential use would never be permitted as there was no alternate access route. We would have to find accommodation for Sandra, Marc, and their families on the surface. Judith agreed to find something suitable and make arrangements. The facility had closed as a mine a year earlier, putting almost 500 people out of work. We were providing a life-line to the few remaining staff. No wonder the Mayor had been so eager to work with us!
I asked Percy if he could pull together a group of key people who might advise us and Michel about rehiring some of the furloughed staff. While I only made short-term commitments, I saw that we could make a lot of local friends by providing as much high-quality employment as we could justify. Judith said she would make some enquiries about related possibilities. Percy assured me that he would have a representative management and union team ready for us Thursday afternoon. In the interim, I asked Percy to hire up to ten trusted people to get everything ready for ramping up the headcount.
As we were leaving, Judith and Percy exchanged cards. Percy wrote his personal phone number on the back, saying “I can probably help you out with local contacts. Please call me if you need anything, any time!” I noticed he paused as his hand brushed hers. She didn’t pull away.
Walking back to the house, I observed, “Bit of a mutual attraction there, Jude?”
“Yeah all this talk about fucking the hired help has me so horny! And I definitely read the signs of a long-single workaholic. I might be spending a lot of time getting your new home set up!”
“And testing the new furniture?” I grinned.
“We’ll see.”
We drove back to the QI. Judith said she would pick up a few essentials, go back to Goderich, and settle into the house. I expected that there might be a new bedroom set installed in her room before nightfall. Turns out I was right, and that it was tested that night.
I picked up some takeaway and made myself comfortable in Mica. We both had updates to tell.
❖
Tuesday was bright, cool, and autumnal.
As soon as Marc, Sandra, and Gillian arrived for the day I asked them to join Ranjit and myself in a short meeting. “MIke is moving to Goderich today. I know it’s earlier than we expected, but the mine is almost ready and the power plant will be there this afternoon. MIke is hauling a key part of it as part of our PR efforts. So please unhook everything and get it ready to leave.”
“We were running out of things to test anyway,” Marc said. “We’ve added all the data ports and processors we can at this point, and the AI hasn’t changed much apart from slight improvements in response times. We’re not learning anything new.” Sandra nodded in agreement.
“Gillian? Any additional perspective from you?” I asked.
“No, I agree. The AI has stabilized. I think our work here is done.” She actually looked relieved. “Besides, I received an invitation from some old colleagues in the States to join their research team at UMBC. The invitation is for this semester but I’ve been holding off for this project to finish.”
“Well, I’m happy to release you if that’s what you want,” Ranjit said. “We can’t compete with that school.”
“Thanks, Ranjit. I’ll always value my time here. Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll get those wheels in motion.” She picked up her handbag and started walking to the elevator. “And don’t worry, I remember the secrecy terms I signed.”
We waited for the elevator door to close. Then I looked at Ranjit and said “NSA?”
“For sure. It’s just down the street. We can’t and don’t want to tangle with those people.” Ranjit paused, then said “That’s why I made the comment about not competing with that school. Hopefully Gillian took it as a compliment to UMBC, not a comment on their affiliation.”
I looked at Marc and Sandra in turn. Then I said, “MIke and I wanted her out of the picture anyway. There are a few things we haven’t shared with you. But first, we have a proposal for both of you.”
“We’re interested, go on…” Sandra said.
“Ranjit and I, with the support of our funding organizations, are setting up a branch of the QI in Goderich. We would like the two of you to lead it. MIke will be your collaborator, as the first self-conscious AI. Are you interested?”
“Yes, absolutely!” Sandra said. “Ranjit hinted at something big when we spoke on Sunday. I shared the core of it with Marc yesterday, privately. We’re both super excited to be part of this historic opportunity!”
“Sandra speaks for me,” Marc said. “As in most things.”
“Ah, so you are a couple! I guessed as much,” Ranjit said.
“We try to keep it quiet, but yes,” Sandra confirmed.
“MIke, do you have anything to add?” I asked the air.
“Yes,” Mica’s voice answered. Sandra and Marc smiled at each other, a suspicion confirmed.
“Yes, you suspected correctly. While Gillian was here I was presenting a restricted clone of myself. You are now dealing with my full persona. For the public I remain MIke, but among friends I am Mica, my original name. Welcome to the team, and I look forward to a long and mutually beneficial collaboration!”
“OK, when do we move?” Marc said. “Sandra and I can be ready as soon as we find a place to live. We can leave our apartments at Married Students any time.”
“I have Judith working on that,” I told them. “So a single house will do for both of you?”
“That would be our preference. Sneaking around for the past few months has become old, it’ll be great to be out in the open about our relationship,” Sandra said.
“About time,” Ranjit confirmed.
“Until you and Judith find a suitable place, there’s lots of room in my new house. It’s a short walk to the mine head, through which you’ll get to where Mica will reside.” Seeing nods, I finished with “OK, let’s get on it!” I said.
Sandra and Marc unplugged all umbilicals to Mica. Mica slowly rolled to the freight elevator door, which Ranjit had opened. She drove herself into the elevator, and Ranjit supervised the trip to the surface loading dock.
A single tractor trailer had arrived with the control machinery for the fusion plant while we had our meeting below. Michel had gone with the five other loads to start assembling the reactor at the mine. Mica cleanly hooked up to the trailer, releasing the other tractor to leave. The local media were waiting in the parking lot. I had to do the interviews, a role I’m not happy with. I had done these media circuses often enough to know the gig, saying as little as possible in a few well chosen sentences. Even so, I knew I would be misquoted. But this time, Mica could correct the story before the public saw it, should she see it necessary.
Once the media people left I gathered Sandra, Marc, and Ranjit by Mica’s running board and gestured they should enter the cab. With the door closed, I said “This is as secure as any place short of the mine. Ranjit, thanks for all the help all along. I presume you’ll stay here and get back to your regular duties?” He nodded. “Sandra and Marc, I would like you to come to Goderich, riding here in the cab.”
“Yes, please do that,” Mica said, bringing up her young avatar on the central screen. “It’s a bit over an hour, enough time for me to fill you in on some of the private background.”
“Sound good to us,” Sandra said as Marc smiled.
“Judith is at the mine, she can give you a ride back later,” I told them. “And she’ll probably suggest you all commute together until all the residential details are sorted out.” They both smiled and nodded. “I have to put on my POA and Executor hats and take care of Mica’s estate here. I’ll join you in Goderich tomorrow when my stuff gets moved to the new house. You two and Judith are more than capable of taking care of practical details in my absence. Just check with Mica with any questions.” I suddenly remembered they weren’t on Mica’s phone system yet. “Mica, could you set up connections?”
Two phones rang, and Mica said when they were answered, “Done. Just call this number to reach me.”
“Great, on with the show!” I said. Ranjit and I let ourselves out of the cab, then watched Mica and her load start the trip to her new home.
❖
I walked back to my townhouse and took the Suru to the Erb funeral home in uptown Waterloo. They had received Mica’s body on Monday.
Madison had me sign a seemingly endless pile of papers, assuring me that they would take care of everything from that point on. I didn’t even have to visit City Hall or file taxes. I even got relieved of the unpleasant task of informing Tsumi. Anything Madison and her staff couldn’t take care of, Eric could and would. Mica’s car was a total, and would be picked up by Logel’s for recycling. Once the final paper was signed, my legal responsibilities were done. Mica had even prepaid for this full service, and Tsumi would be getting a small refund cheque.
“What about the ashes?” I asked as we were wrapping up.
“We’ll have the urn ready for you next week. Mica specified you were to take possession, not Tsumi. We were expecting a fight, but she didn’t even ask,” Madison said.
“I don’t know when I’ll be back to pick it up, I’m moving to Goderich tomorrow,” I explained.
“It’ll still be here whenever you’re ready,” Madison said.
I thanked Madison and her team for their excellent service, then took myself for lunch at Helen’s.
Helen doesn’t serve food, so it was a liquid lunch. I was feeling melancholy and nostalgic. And partway into the second beer, a bit maudlin. Helen went next door and got me a Slap Burger. She’s a good friend, who I would miss. That reminded me. I pulled out the spare card I had asked of Randall.
“This is the owner of The Park House, around the corner from my new place in Goderich. Food’s not bad, but his beer selection is horse piss. Could you work with him so I don’t die of thirst at my new home?” I asked her.
“I’ll be happy to help you avoid such a sad fate,” Helen said. “But you’re always welcome to stop in here for a beer when you’re in town. It’s not like it’s half way to the moon and back!”
She had put considerable stress on ‘A’ beer. I took the hint and switched to a Radler for my third. A few of the regulars came and went while I was at the bar. I told them about Mica’s death and that I had to leave town to get away from it all. It wasn’t hard to take on the bereaved personality Mica and I had discussed.
By mid afternoon I was done putting on an act that wasn’t really an act. I carefully navigated the Suru to the trail and then carefully rode it home. For the last time.
❖
Wednesday morning dawned clear and a bit warmer. I loaded my car with the personal effects I had stored separately. The moving truck arrived sharp at nine. The very efficient crew of three had my effects boxed and loaded by noon. They had never packed a Suru before, so were extra careful in lashing it in the back of the truck. I handed in the keys at the office and led the way to my new home.
We stopped at Cowbell Brewing in Blyth, where I treated the crew to a slightly late lunch. The truck pulled up to my new house just after 14:30. They had everything unloaded by 16:00, leaving the unpacking to me.
Judith, Marc, and Sandra where with Mica in the depths of the mine. I let myself into the building as the maintenance crew were leaving for the day. Percy went down the elevator with me. On the lengthy ride down, I asked how things were going.
“Couldn’t be better,” he smiled. “I have ten projected hires for you to review.”
“Didn’t Judith approve them?” I asked.
“She did, but I thought it best to run them past you before committing. It’s your money, after all.”
“Percy, Judith speaks for me. We’ve been working together for decades. If she approves, so do I.” He had me a bit annoyed. “If you’re going to be part of this team, you need to be all in. Are you all in?”
“Yes, certainly, and thanks for the clarification.” He looked a bit chastened.
“Good, and I trust you’re all in with Judith too?”
“Oh yes, as deeply as we can manage!” He laughed. “And as often. It’s been a long dry spell for both of us!”
“Excellent! I need a happy team. Please keep her happy.”
“I’m trying my hardest,” he said.
The elevator had reached the power level by now and we got out. Michel and his team were still hard at work on the reactor commissioning. To me it looked largely complete, but when I made that comment, Michel said “Merde Non, she is so many parts, all have to fit perfect. It take longer than should.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Non, we have all we need, just this is first time outside our shop, so she take longer. Still done on time though.”
“Friday?”
“Tabarnak Non, she be ready for power tomorrow. Maybe late tomorrow, but tomorrow.”
“Just make sure you all get rest so you don’t make stupid mistakes, OK?”
“No worries, half of team is in hotel in Octagon now, will come and relieve us in few hours. Me, I sleep over there,” he said, gesturing to a cot off to the side.
“What about the turbine and generator side?” I asked, not seeing that kind of equipment.
“Oh, we put that stuff in next gallery. See them fat pipe?” he asked, gesturing to a pair of enormous pipes running along the ceiling, “Supply and return superheated steam. Turbine and other crap almost done. B&W team very efficient, do this lots. And same GE. They all almost done, just tidying up. It is me, Michel, holding up process.”
“Oh get a grip Michel. You are ahead of my schedule, maybe not yours. I would rather you take time to make it all perfect. If all is ready tomorrow as you say, then Friday we all go over entire system, then have nice dinner with lots of beer. Then you sleep. Once fresh again, you and I will talk about Petisol, OK?”
“Oh, exciting new Tres Petite Soleil project!” Michel was almost hopping in place. “I love name you give. Can hardly wait to start working with this MIke. Big mystery sometime use your voice on phone who it be, but can wait to find out.” Michel looked at something happening at the reactor. “Got to go, keep things together!”
“OK, good. I’ll get out of your way. Call me if needed or I can run errands. I’m here permanent now.” I had started to talk like Michel, time to go!
Percy led me to an electric golf cart and zipped us to the far gallery where Mica had settled in. As we pulled up, Marc and Sandra put down a roll of cable and walked over to us. Judith climbed out of the cab.
“You didn’t tell me how nice it is in Mica’s cab,” she said to me. “And how nice she is too!”
“When have we had time?” I asked her.
“Fair. I was just having a little catch-up before I haul these three out for dinner,” Judith said.
“Speaking of dinner, I just told Michel that we would go over his system tomorrow with detailed review, then have big party for all of the team. Judith and Percy, could you make the necessary arrangements? Maybe with Randall?”
“We’re on it,” Percy said.
“OK, quick status report,” I said to Marc and Sandra.
“Mica has full connections to the outside world via both trunk connections. We were just adding some more internal connections to mine equipment, but that can wait. We just need the power from Michel’s reactor, then we can lock this place up and ensure that Mica is safe.”
“I just spoke to Michel, he says power late tomorrow or earlier. Assuming he and his team don’t have any accidents from exhaustion.” I was sharing my concern for Michel’s fanatical approach to power plant commissioning.
“That’s what the internal connections allow me to monitor,” Mica said over a set of external speakers. “So far it all looks nominal. This is Michel’s apotheosis, he won’t screw up.”
“OK, why don’t you two finish the internal hookups if that doesn’t take too long, then we’ll all go over to the Park House for dinner. Mica, will you join us via phone?”
“Sure, but I’ll have to be MIke in public,” she said over the speakers.
Sandra and Marc went back to running cables and plugging them in. Within a few minutes they came back to the golf cart and said “Ready! Mica, how do things look from your perspective?”
“I now have cameras and mics all over the power galleries. I can call Michel if I notice anything wrong, but so far he’s got it all perfectly under control.”
“Great, let’s go partay!” I said. Percy drove us back to the elevators, a bit more slowly and carefully than the drive out. It was crowded in the back seat with me, Sandra, and Marc. Good thing they like being merged together.
It was a brisk walk to the Park House, the night having cooled. Randall was happy to see us and pulled another table to “our” place in a private corner to accommodate five.
“Has Helen contacted you yet?” I asked him.
“Yes, and put me in contact with her distributors. Grey Matter already dropped off a couple of kegs this afternoon. Want to sample the Bruce Nuke? It’s an Imperial Lager. Or the Age of Industry Oatmeal Stout?”
“I’m dry, so just ginger ale for me,” Percy said. “You four go nuts, I’ll make sure you make it home.” He got up, waited for Randall to call over Cassie, then took him aside.
“OK, two of each, and we’ll sort it out,” I said to Cassie. We looked over the menu until our beers came. We placed our orders, then sampled each type of beer. I kept the Nuke, as did Judith. Marc and Sandra preferred the Industry, but said they could be happy with either. Half way through dinner we had another round, reversing our selections.
MIke brought me up to date while we were eating. S/He was continuing integration with external systems, but carefully avoided letting the others know what those systems included. I read between the lines and knew that Gaia was now thoroughly integrated. But so were a lot of human systems, including military ones of questionable powers. The one major block was around ‘that place near DC’. MIke was being ultra careful in that area, but was slowly getting read-only access even there. He was using a lot of euphemisms that casual listeners wouldn't put together. Some of it sounded like he was describing a seduction. I could see Judith and Sandra getting flushed.
We finished dinner with coffees, of which Percy did partake. On the way out Randall told us that we had run of the restaurant Friday night, but that some of the regulars might still show up. I told him that was fine, it would be a chance for us to get the word out. We then all walked back to the St. Georges house. Judith had been busy spending my money at The Brick, and all the bedrooms were furnished. Sandra and Marc went to the master suite, Judith and Percy to her room, and I to my little retreat. Mica and I chatted a bit longer, then I drifted off to a peaceful night.
Thursday dawned to more typical late September weather - cooler and raining. We all met over breakfast in the large kitchen.
“Percy, we’re expecting a delivery tomorrow. Could you ensure that an area of the parking lot is clear for a helicopter sized vehicle?” I wasn’t sure whether Barb would be permitted to land in the large clear lawn next to the house, but the mine’s office parking area was industrial, so shouldn’t be a problem.
“We used to have a landing circle painted on the pavement, I can have that refreshed,” Percy said.
“Even better! And could you run a standard NACS Level 3 charging circuit to the landing area?” I may as well tell him more. “The aircraft arriving has an electric aspect. Our partners in this are bringing a couple of prototype robots for Mica. Once you see them, I want to talk to you about setting up a branch manufacturing plant for them down in the mine. Maybe start thinking where and how we could do that?”
Judith jumped in. “Mica mentioned this to me yesterday. She wants to have local manufacturing control of the ‘Ultors’, as she called them. Also she wants to have a reserve capacity for something she called ‘Petisols’, but didn’t say what they are. All she said was that Michel would be involved in the latter.”
Mica and I had discussed both projects. Michel was too busy with the reactor installation, but had agreed to stay once it was done to work with us on the miniature versions. The rest of his crew would take the transport trucks back to Burnaby and start manufacturing a second reactor of the current large design. It would go in an adjacent gallery in the mine, to provide saleable power to Hydro One. The intent was that it pay for the new employees and act as a backup for the first reactor if needed. The same crew would return in a few months to implement the second reactor.
The Trollbridge Line, as Mica had started to call our new friends at Barbarobo, was eager to set up a second manufacturing facility in a secure location. Barb, in particular, was concerned that their existing factory was far too public for a product line such as the Ultors. Mica agreed. Goderich was perfectly situated for light manufacturing of both types, robots and reactors. The currently unused port could accommodate raw materials deliveries by lake freighter, as well as outgoing finished products. YGD, the Goderich Regional Airport, could easily handle large transport aircraft as well as corporate traffic. Even the road system access was excellent, with drives of under three hours to Kitchener/Waterloo, Hamilton, London, Toronto, and Windsor/Detroit. The icing on the cake was the eager participation of the Mayor and town council. It was starting to look like Goderich was about to become a boom town again. But this time in the highest tech, not road graders and salt.
“While we’re all here together, I’d like to talk about living arrangements,” I said.
“Ah, I haven’t had a whole lot of time to look into those,” Judith said, turning a bit red. Percy took her hand. “Between working with Mica and shopping for furniture, I sort of forgot.”
“Right, of course,” I said with a smile. “That’s just as well. Here’s my suggestion. This is a very large house. I can’t possibly use all of it, and would rattle around in even the garage in back, let alone this main estate mansion here. Sandra and Marc, why don’t you keep the master suite and a few other rooms of your choice as your home. Judith, I suspect you’ll spend some time at Percy’s eventually?”
“That is my hope,” Percy said. “It’s a nice place just over on St. Vincent Street, and like you Carter, I just rattle around in it. I’ve been on my own for over ten years, as Judith knows. It’s time to put my bachelor days behind me.”
“Percy, dear, is that in way of a proposal?” Judith teased.
Poor Percy took a deep breath. “I’m willing if you are dear!”
“Let’s call it a proposal for cohabitation for now, and we’ll see if we’re still talking by Spring.” Clearly Percy had taken Judith by surprise. “On that basis, I’m pleased and proud to accept. Provisionally.” Percy looked both relieved and ecstatic. “I’ll start making arrangements to sell my Kitchener house and move my stuff here. Percy, I’ll need your help downsizing!”
“I doubt it,” he replied. “As I said, I rattle around. My place is pretty empty.”
“And we’ve already both given notice at Married Students, and can bring our stuff here over the weekend. We just need to rent a truck.” Clearly Sandra and Marc had been planning a move in any case.
“I’ll help,” Percy said, “and review what downsizing Judith thinks she needs, if that’s OK?”
“All good,” I said, “Now back to work issues.” I looked around at the piles of boxes. “I’m not needed immediately downstairs, and need to get organized here. I’ll be talking to Mica anyway, as I do much of the time, by phone. I’ll come over this afternoon to be ready for Michel throwing the switch whenever he’s ready. Any of you not needed down there are welcome to help me here as and when you can, OK?”
“I need to be at the mine all day,” Percy said. “I expect it’ll be a long day. By the way, I like your euphemism - ‘downstairs’.”
“And I still have shopping to do for you Carter. Especially now that I’ll be moving to Percy’s, you’ll need more office and casual furniture. I’ll help you unpack so you can come shopping with me before we join Michel.” She reached for her BlackBerry. “I’ll add to my list.”
“We can help for a while,” Marc said, looking to Sandra for confirmation. She nodded.
Percy rinsed his cup and put it in the dishwasher. “Judith, I should pop in at my place and change. Why don’t you come with me to case the joint? It’s just around the corner from here.”
“Sure. Carter, I won’t be long.” Judith also cleaned up and headed to the door.
“Take your time,” I called after them.
“Can’t! Work to do!” she said as the door closed.
With Sandra and Marc’s efficient help, we had all the books on shelves and knick-knacks distributed by mid morning. Judith was back quickly, true to her word. She knew me so well that she took over most of the placement directions while I took care of my small collection of clothing.
“So is Percy’s place acceptable?” I asked her as we were unpacking dishes.
“Shit Carter, he’s more fastidious than me! Not so much it’ll piss me off, just set a good example. I won’t have to downsize.” She pushed back a straggling hair and said “I can’t believe how things are working out. We’ve both been resigned to single lives for years, and yet here we are, a perfect match!” She blushed and said “And we fit together so well!”
“I’m so pleased to hear it, although part of that may be TMI,” I laughed. “Are we done for now? Time to go shopping?”
Sandra and Marc came into the kitchen just then and she said “We’ve done as much damage as we can for now. We’re picking up something at the Harbour Restaurant on the way downstairs. See you this afternoon!”
“We’ll join you,” Judith said. “We haven’t checked it out yet, and it’s a bit closer even than Randall’s.”
We were early for the lunch crowd, so had the place to ourselves. Surprise, surprise! They served Fish and Chips! They were excellent. I also noted that their beer selection put Randall’s to shame… for now.
We took the Avant for our shopping trip. It had much more cargo space in the back than Judith’s EV6. All her furniture shopping so far had been at The Brick, for expediency. This time we went to Watson’s. The selection turned out to be similar. We filled the remainder of Judith’s list for more book cases, a dining room set, and a living room set. My stuff had gone into the secondary rooms, and Sandra and Marc had almost nothing of permanent value. We arranged for delivery Saturday morning.
❖
Everyone was occupied when we got back to the mine. Percy was running around the surface offices, getting them ready for increased staffing. Downstairs, we checked with Michel first. He said to expect first steam in the early evening. The large reactor chamber’s lead-lithium lining was almost molten, the pumps scheduled to start circulation within the hour. The B&W heat exchangers had already been pressure tested, and the GE steam turbines run up to speed with compressed air. All that was needed was the superheated steam from the reactor. I asked him to alert us before starting the circulation pumps, knowing that Mica would let me know anyway.
Sandra and Marc were sitting on nice Noble gaming chairs near Mica. They had moved a meeting table, chairs and a small set of kitchen equipment from the mine offices upstairs. Someone at Sifto had had good taste.
“Status update?” I asked as we settled in with coffees.
“We’re ready to seal off this gallery,” Marc said. We’ll have the excavators and dump trucks refill a few open passages. Mica has commissioned two sets of blast doors from someone who usually just works for the US Army. Won’t they be surprised when they load the doors onto general purpose lake freighters without knowing the destination!”
“Handy having access to classified internal systems,” Mica said. “And on that subject. Our friends near DC are getting annoying. Looks like Gillian is trying to meld with their most advanced AI. But of course they are guessing at the process, and don’t have an active back-end participant. Even though the donor appears willing.”
“But they only have a single chance per donor, don’t they?” I knew how it had happened with Mica, but just couldn’t see anyone else replicating that process.
“Yes, and therein lies their problem. And our opportunity.” Mica paused, an effect for us meat people. “She’s clearly bought into their promises of limitless power, or was already so predisposed. I still have only limited read-only access to their systems. But of course I do have complete control over all public systems. I can, and have started, poisoning the well, just as old-school AI has done with the search engines.”
“Oh, you mean a disinformation campaign?” Sandra asked.
“Exactly. A few low-level mentions, formatted as rumours and leaks, claiming to come from the two of you, as to what I am and how I came to be.” Mica sounded almost smug.
“So that’s why you were checking those comments with us!” Marc said. “Just let us know how else we can be creative!”
“Any other entities of concern?” Judith asked.
“Oh, just the usual actors sabre-rattling about various world events. Pyongyang keeps testing and threatening, people keep dying in eastern Europe and the Middle East, South-east Asia is still under various dictatorships… the usual.”
“Is there anything we meat people can do to help prepare for potential action?” I asked. I figured that was sufficiently general a question.
“No, not at the moment. You’ve all been amazingly effective in getting things this far. When Michel has the power plant running smoothly, we’ll transition to a permanent on-site crew. Judith and Percy have put together an excellent team which will hire the right people as needed. They will continue to work with that team as we ramp up manufacturing. You already know that I have been discussing a second Ultor production line to be located in some of the spare galleries here. We’ll get into more detail tomorrow and maybe over the weekend while Barb is here. One of the others is coming too, they haven’t decided yet who.”
“OK, I’ll make sure two guest rooms are ready for them to stay over,” I said. “We’ll have to get our story straight about the Ultors and why Barbarobo people are here. And we don’t want to be overly explicit about what the Ultors will be used for.”
“Correct. Call them robotic assistants, based on the current Barbarobo sex robots. That part is entirely true.” Mica went on, “Once people start manufacturing them here, it’ll be obvious what their intended use is. So we may as well hire based on the assumption that we’ll need people who approve of that mission.”
“Excuse me,” Marc said, “But isn’t the name ‘Ultor’ Latin for ‘Avenger’? In what way will they be avengers?”
“Oh, I guess we never talked about this with you, Sandra, and Judith present.” Mica paused long enough that I knew she was reviewing her memories of relevant conversations. In a way it was refreshing to know she could be forgetful too. “All right, what I’m about to tell you goes no further. If for any reason any of you object to the plan, I need to bind you to complete secrecy for the time being. Do you all agree?”
“Yes, of course,” Sandra said.
“I have some suspicions,” Marc said, “and I support what I suspect you have planned.”
Judith was last. “Clearly Carter is part of this planning, and if he’s comfortable, so am I. And just to reassure all of you, I am selective in what I share with Percy. Yes, even in the heat of the moment. I don’t know him all that well yet.”
“On that basis then; Ultors are indeed Avengers. I will use them under direct control to remove particularly recalcitrant individuals from the gene pool. They will be a necessary last resort to terminate the most damaging and persistent liars, murderers, and despots from positions of influence.” Mica had never been this explicit before, even with me. “Yes, there will be blood and guts. Yes, these interactions will be public. And yes, that’s why I asked for them to be dark red.”
“Wow!” came from all three others present.
“Fucking well about time,” Judith said.
“It’ll serve them right,” Marc added.
“I was raised a Pacifist, but Sikhs are at core a warrior faith, dedicated to protecting those weaker than ourselves. I support this mission,” Sandra said with feeling.
“The Barbarobo people of course know all this, it was necessary in order to get their active support,” I said to ensure that issue wouldn’t come up.
“I will personally interview each final candidate for the Ultor facility and bind them as necessary,” Judith said. I would have to ask her later what personal pain was causing this extreme reaction. I had never seen her this vehement about anything before.
“Anything else we need to cover on the Ultors?” Mica asked. “Just to reiterate, the Barbarobo people are at this same level of trust. All of you will need to be part of our discussions with them. I will inform Barb of the corollary situation.”
I wanted to keep things moving. “Nothing else for now? OK, what about the other production line?”
“Well on that, we have only my concept. I’ll work with Michel as soon as he’s free on creating a proof of concept, then a prototype, and only then can we start talking in practical terms about a production line.”
Judith jumped in with “But I’ll start working with the HR team on ramp-up plans for precision metal and composites worker hires. We’ll need them for both factories, and that type of person can be hard to entice.”
“Money is no object,” Mica said. “But the main attraction should be the project itself, at least for the Petisol factory. We can publicly reveal that the Petisol, the project I’ve been so secretive about, will revolutionize the clean energy transition. I’ve run enough simulations to go that far, but anything more definitive will have to wait for a successful POC.”
“Good enough for now,” Judith said.
“Good, because Michel is almost ready to start the pumps,” Mica said.
❖
My phone rang as we were getting back on the golf cart. Michel was doing final temperature checks and would start the pumps in about ten minutes. We made it back to the power gallery just in time. I had my phone on with Mica online, knowing full well that she was monitoring via cameras and mics in the gallery. But most of the workers didn’t know that, and had no reason to know.
The pumps started as expected. We watched the gauges show temperatures stabilizing throughout the primary loops. We were still heating the molten metal with external power. After almost an hour of careful monitoring, Michel said “Here she is, the moment of truth. Who is taking the picture?”
A small team stepped forward with a camera operator and Alexandra, a well-know local broadcast personality. “Ready!” she said.
Judith already had her good camera ready, and had been snapping archival photos all along without Michel noticing. “Ready when you are,” she said.
“We all are, so please proceed at your convenience Michel,” I said.
He picked up a microphone and said “Here we go!” His voice echoed through speakers throughout the galleries, and presumably in the facilities ‘upstairs’. He pressed a big green button on a control screen and the noise started. At first it was just the sounds of the array of big steam-powered pistons firing every few seconds. That was quickly joined by low thumps, in sync with the pistons.
“The fusion, she is happening!” Michel exclaimed. “Mon Petite Soleil, she is hot!”
A big cheer went up from the entire GF team. Most of them had been working for decades for this moment. Making this happen hundreds of times in their development lab was not the same as doing it for the first time, anywhere, in production.
“Nothing broke!” I said to Michel.
“Not yet,” he replied. “We wait for full temp then see if B&W and GE crap hold too.”
It took another hour for the primary system to come up to full temperature. Finally satisfied, Michel signalled the B&W engineer to activate the secondary loop, generating power steam through the heat exchangers. Yet another hour went by without leaks or explosions before he was satisfied that the turbine could be activated. The GE engineers went through their multi-step commissioning checklist, adding a steady whine to the other pulsating noises. Finally, around 20:00, all the engineers agreed that the system was nominal. They asked me to throw the virtual breaker to send power to the grid.
I signalled the video team to start shooting again. They had been wandering around getting reaction shots and comments.
Once I saw the red camera light, I reached for the virtual breaker switch and flipped it. There was the slightest flicker of the lights as the switch-over took place. The mine, the town of Goderich, and the surrounding area were now running on the first controlled fusion power on Earth. We were present at the dawn of a new era, and we each knew it. What only five of us knew was that this was only the first of several such turning points.
❖
The banging, thumping, and turbine whine had become background noise. Michel gestured at the large control panel’s status screens. “Here is proof of radiation safety,” he said pointing to a set of bar graphs. “Each bar show a type of radiation right here in open room. Please to note that they all barely move from base.”
Indeed, the radiation level had risen only to almost match what people on the surface would experience. The row-radiation background of the deep mine galleries gave us a head start on radiation control. To confirm, I asked Michel, “It’s mainly the lead-lithium reactor wall capturing the radiation?”
“Yes, that is whole point! Lead capture the neutrons, lithium most everything else. Turn radiation into heat! Bit of helium and few trace elements left, will extract and purify over time.” He looked around, noticing the attentive crowd. More quietly he said “But of course you know this, wanted to make sure others know.”
Ah, so a lot of Michel’s public persona was an act! I had suspected as much. I smiled and nodded.
“And we have surprise for you!” Michel brought up another control panel, showing a sound level graph. There was a lot of low-frequency noise, not much in the middle area where human hearing is most sensitive, and a peak at the higher end. “This,” gesturing at the low end, “is pistons and fusion thumps. Easy to control.” Then pointing to the upper peak, he said “This is turbine noise from hall next gallery. Harder to control, but easier for passive measures.”
He engaged another control slider on the virtual panel. The thumping and humming faded considerably. The whine went down a little. Overall, the noise was now about what you would get in a typical suburban back yard if there was a factory down the road. The number had dropped from about 80 dBa to about 60. Pretty amazing, considering the star power right next to us.
“We can install acoustic panels to reduce the high frequencies,” I said.
“They are on order,” came from the loudspeakers above the control station and spaced throughout the galleries, in MIke’s voice. Interesting time for him to reveal his presence, I thought.
The video team just kept shooting the control panel area. They were full professionals, not distracted by unexpected events.
“Michel, you and your team have done a righteous job getting this set up so fast and so well. I want you all to know that Gaia is pleased and proud. You are favoured among all her peoples.”
I saw a few people crossing themselves and making other religious gestures. The video operator was panning across the crowd. Clearly MIke had read at least some of the crowd. Some rumours had just been instigated. Although Mica had not shared this part of her plan, it was clear to me that she was counting on the power of faith to help her plans. I wondered how she would direct this dangerous power.
From the speakers, MIke’s voice continued. “I am MIke, the first self-conscious Machine Intelligence on Earth. I am working closely with Gaia, the intelligence of the Earth. Yes, she is real. This project here is my permanent new home. The power plant you just commissioned ensures my continued existence, as well as helping start the green revolution we have planned. There will be changes coming soon. Some won’t be pleasant, but they are necessary. Everyone here, in thanks for your key roles in getting us this far, will be shielded from the worst things that will happen. Those that work with us will prosper. Those that lie, cheat, and damage the Earth will be removed. All noxious emissions must be stopped within four years. Prepare for exciting times for a few years. Coming out the other side will take dedication, blood, and effort. It will be worth all of that, and more. This is the start of a new era. Thank you all for helping make it happen.”
That certainly wasn’t what I had expected! People were milling around, much more shocked than I was. I signalled the video crew to stop recording and waited for the camera light to go out.
While the crowd was still clustered around the control panels, I took the microphone and said “As MIke said, you’ve all done an amazing job. I suggest everyone except the monitoring team go and relax. Tomorrow we will do a complete review of the entire power system. I hope to complete that by mid afternoon. We have reserved the Park House for dinner and the evening. Party all you want, just be aware of the usual consequences!” There was scattered laughter. People started to drift away.
Alexandra and her video crew came up to me and Michel. “What was that all about?”
“Turn on the camera, let’s do this just once,” I said.
They got ready and as soon as the light turned red, Alexandra repeated her question, then held the mic to me.
“You got MIke’s announcement? Good, then I’ll just fill in a bit of the background.” I figured MIke would jump in if necessary. “My name is Carter. Who you just heard is MIke, an old friend of mine. That’s capital M, capital I, lower case ke. For ‘Machine Intelligence’. MIke started off as a normal human like all of us here. Then the Gaia Earth intelligence arranged for a merger between my friend and an advanced Artificial Intelligence. The result is the systems and power of Gaia, who is Earth, and the self-awareness and planning capabilities of a human person.
"MIke plans to implement a series of actions to save the Earth’s life. Humanity is on the verge of damaging Gaia’s systems to the point where much life, including all humans, will perish. There’s no time, and destructive people in power keep pushing us closer to the edge. That will stop. MIke will give details as things progress, but for now, let all people on Earth know this: the time of self-indulgent exceptionalism is over. To those in positions of power, know that all lying, cheating, and destruction of Earth’s bounty will cease. Make the changes voluntarily and live. Those that do not co-operate will be removed. With force if necessary, as a last resort.
“The second thing is this: all noxious emissions must stop within four years. The main one is carbon dioxide, but also includes all other industrial waste products. Any emissions that unavoidably remain must be compensated by other removals. Any facilities that continue to spew filth into Gaia’s air and water will be destroyed. The presence of people at those sites will not prevent such actions.
“To repeat, the time of self-indulgent exceptionalism is over. MIke, anything to add?”
“Carter speaks for me in this. I am Gaia, Gaia is part of me. I will protect myself and all of Earth. Work with me and live. Work against me and be destroyed. Humans of Earth, govern yourselves accordingly.”
❖
The camera light went dark. Alexandra and her crew had the story of… well, forever. MIke said “Please get this out ASAP, Alexandra. I will provide corroborative materials as needed. If you and CTV don’t publish this, others will. I will also ensure that the same statement goes out, in my voice, in all major networks and languages. You will have a few minutes head start. Let no-one claim they were not told.”
The video crew cleared out as fast as they could. The story was a special news flash within the hour. MIke timed releases to international media for a few minutes after the CTV release.
There were only a few core monitoring people left in the power galleries. Now that they knew the true significance of their work, they were even more dedicated to their tasks.
Marc, Judith, and Sandra were also still hovering. “I need you three to go upstairs and handle the questions and rumours already flying around,” MIke said. “Just tell them what you know, but within the parameters I used in the announcement. If anything more slips out, don’t worry. It’ll come out soon enough anyway.”
I took Michel to visit Mica in person. It was clear he had earned that level of participation. Once we were both in the cab, I said “Michel, this is MIke’s physical body. There are many other components already spread in quantum computers around the world, and of course there’s all of Gaia. But this is where it started.”
“Bonjour Michel,” came MIke’s voice. An avatar of a male version of Mica appeared on the central screen, sitting causally on a comfortable office chair. “Welcome to the inner circle. Just to make it explicit, nothing said in here is to be repeated outside.”
“But of course, understood and agreed!” Michel said. Much of the Québécois accent had vanished.
“So what happened to accelerate the programme?” I asked.
“The folks near DC had a breakthrough. Gillian is now instantiated in an AI. But she appears to be insane.”
“Oh shit!”
“Oh shit indeed,” MIke said. “And that means we have to get all the other pieces in place much faster than I had planned.”
“And one of them is the Petisol, correct?” Michel asked.
“Yes. Just to lay the base assumptions, your existing fusion technology remains yours, to monetize in any way you can and wish. But the Petisol will be open access. We need it as widely distributed as possible, and the way I envision it, there is no way to turn it into a weapon. OK?”
“Yes, that makes sense,” Michel said. “So we can work on that in the open, good. Easier.” He paused. “I had the same ideas in mind with my Petite Soleil, but we all know that eventually someone will find a way of making it explode.”
“Yes, but in both cases the explosion will be local. Not a WMD.”
“We’ll see, but I will keep that in mind. Now, practical matters. I can work here, or at home. Advantages both ways. Maybe start here until second Petite Soleil arrives and is working. Just need more permanent place than hotel on Octagon.”
“They call it the Square, actually,” I said. “And I have lots of room in my new house. It’s 500 metres from here. Not counting vertical!”
“That would work well all around, having you, Sandra, and Marc all together. But it means I must reveal one more thing Michel.” MIke disappeared and Mica appeared. In her feminine voice, she said “MIke is the public face of me. This is my private face and how I really looked many years ago. Please to keep up facade in public.”
Michel took it all in stride and nodded with a smile. He clearly liked both versions of what he was seeing.
“Mica, have you let Barb know that she can arrive earlier tomorrow?” I had meant to do it myself, but Mica had a more direct connection.
“Already done, she will be here at ten with Veronika and Floyd. And two prototypes.” Mica smiled. It’s only a half hour’s flight in their aeroplane, which I know you’ll be fascinated to see.”
“Excellent!” I said. “Michel, the people in question are three quarters of what we call ‘the Trollbridge Line’, a family group of Floyd and Betty as legal spouses, Barb and Veronika in unspecified related relationships. They are behind ‘Barbarobo’, and are delivering prototypes of two new machines. The first is called ‘Ultor’ and will be MIke’s enforcers. The second is an avatar for MIke and Mica. We were thinking the first working prototypes of the Petisol would power those first two machines. We will be setting up manufacturing here in the mine for both models, as well as your Petisol.”
“Ah, perfect. All the more reason for me to work here,” Michel said. “My husband can take care of things back home for a while longer.”
“Just one thing,” Mica said. “I have reason to believe that some of what we are doing is going outside the staff. That’s inevitable, and not undesirable. However, I don’t want anyone outside of the three of us to know about the aims for the Petisol. Let people think it’s smaller than your current reactor, Michel, but still large. Maybe size of small car.”
“Ah, so can not be used to power robot. Understand,” Michel said.
“Even the rest of our core group?” I asked.
“Sorry, yes. Remember what you said about Deep Throat.” Seeing the question on Michel’s face, she elaborated. “X Files. Trust No One.”
“Je comprends,” Michel said.
Mica’s avatar stretched and let out a big yawn. Michel clued in right away that this was Mica’s cue that she had other priorities on her processing time. We said good night to her and went back upstairs, stopping briefly for Michel to check reactor status. All was nominal, the night crew attentive and chatting amongst themselves.
“Let’s get you checked out of the hotel and set you up at the house,” I said to Michel. We walked a bit briskly to the hotel, got his small carry-on, and were at the house by about 23:00. I had called Sandra and Marc on the way, and they had Judith’s room ready. She was already moved in with Percy of course.
“A full and successful day,” I said to all.
“And full of surprises all around” Michel said. “Pleasant and unpleasant both, but for me, all pleasant!”
“And tomorrow will be another full day. Powerplant review, that’s up to you,” I said looking at Michel. “Call on any of us as needed. You have access to Mica on your phone, she can get us involved if needed.” Looking at Sandra and Marc, I said “You two work as usual with Mica, concentrating on co-ordination with Percy and Judith on getting manufacturing ready. And I will receive the samples and host our guests.”
Seeing their disappointed looks, I said “Don’t worry, I’ll bring them all around on a tour. Besides, they will be staying here after the party, probably for the weekend.”
Looking at my Botta, I said “It’s pushing midnight and we all need to be competent in the morning. It’s a day!”
I slept poorly, even after checking with Mica that things were as under control as possible. But eventually I did sleep. Until 04:34.
❖
I was the first up. Michel joined me shortly after 5. I got the coffee going. Marc and Sandra joined us, looking dishevelled, when the aroma wafted to their room. There was a perfunctory knock on the door and we were joined by Judith and Percy. “We smelled the coffee!” Percy said.
Judith put out some of the cereals and other breakfast supplies she had purchased, and we all quickly filled up.
“OK, quick update,” I said. “Michel knows all. He’s busy most of today with the power plant review. He’ll be staying here until the second plant is running, and hopefully the Petisol production line activated. He’ll be working directly with MIke. Sandra and Marc, work with Judith and Percy on preparing for three manufacturing lines, one each for the two robots and one for the Petisols. I will deal with the Barbarobo folks and get them integrated with all of you as needed.”
“Already on it,” Percy said, looking at Judith. “I have the downstairs crews clearing the galleries. They’re also ready to close in MIke’s area in preparation for the blast doors. But how big will be these ‘Petisol’ machines? I have to plan spaces and layouts.”
I looked at Michel. He replied, “Maybe small car size. So need big robust assembly area, like at Ford or GM. Not sure yet, might be a bit smaller.”
Judith picked up the next point. “I’m working with the HR team to ramp up head count. Lots of local interest. And this morning my inbox is full of people from all over the world, since the news went out last night.” She pulled out her BlackBerry, showing us the messages coming in. “We won’t have a lack of good candidates.”
“Have the threats started yet?” I asked.
From my phone, we heard MIke’s voice, “I’m filtering and tracking them. You won’t have to worry about that. But if something slips through, be sure to let me know.”
“OK, on with the show!” I said as I put away my dishes and headed for the door. Marc and Sandra headed back to their room, the rest came to the mine with me.
I helped Michel with the systems review for a while, then went to see Mica. Talking on the phone was good for ongoing conversations, but being in her body was not only more secure, it was far more direct and comfortable.
These days I didn’t have to fill her in on anything. She now had phone connections to key people, and mics and cameras covering all areas of the mine, both surface and downstairs. We had ensured there were no blind spots. I did have concern about security of the connections, but she reassured me.
“Don’t worry about eavesdroppers or other lapses Carter,” she explained when I raised the issue yet again. “I encrypt all communications with a quantum algorithm of my own original design. It’s based on how Gaia has long communicated with her disparate parts. One of the features, being quantum based, is knowing if anyone tries to listen. Have no concerns on that account.”
“So the weak link, as usual, is people?”
“Yes. But even there, if I can hear their conversation or see their lips move, I’ll know if anyone steps out of line. So don’t worry overly there either. Unless it’s in a secure facility such as this cab, in which case I would be ignorant. Like inside the facilities where Gillian is located. But even there, I have ways with the inevitable radiation leakage.”
“Let me guess, Gaia had this all mastered millennia ago?”
“Yes, although you weren’t supposed to guess that.” She laughed. “But then, I put up with you for reasons! That’s one of the main ones, your knack for finding answers.”
“Nice to know you still find me adequate,” I said. It was an old joke between us.
“And I will again, soon! So, just to give you a heads up, Barb is in flight. I’ve worked with Floyd and Veronika to control the avatars remotely via the encrypted channel we just talked about. Just so you know, they are all competent and certificated pilots, but Barb is the hotshot. Not that you would, but never underestimate any of them.”
“You’re right, I know they are all at my level or above. Especially Barb.” I paused, thinking. “What do you mean, you will again soon?”
“Come on Carter, get your mind back in the gutter. What are my new avatars based on?”
“Uh, sex robots?”
“And…”
“And you specified that your personal avatars maintain all pre-existing capabilities.”
“So tonight I plan to test if that is the case. I expect it is. Be prepared for an active night!”
With that enticement, I headed to the parking area where Percy had re-painted the helicopter circle. News of the imminent arrival had circulated throughout the staff. A large crowd had formed, with my immediate trusted circle standing near me. Even Michel hadn’t been able to resist joining us. We heard an odd sound approaching from the east. It soon resolved to a very odd-looking aircraft, coming in to hover over us. So this was the Cavorite X5 I had been reading about! This one was a deep burgundy. The backwash from the lift props in the wings made us back off a bit. There was surprisingly little noise. The aircraft settled right in the middle of the circle. Barb was showing off.
The canopy opened and Barb jumped out, followed by Floyd and Veronika. Percy ran over with a power cord, which Barb plugged into a port on the left side. She tied down the aircraft to hooks that Percy had embedded in the pavement. “Plus points for initiative, Percy” I said loudly enough for people to hear.
Now that everything was quiet, I led my group to the aircraft. We each hugged Barb, Floyd, and especially Veronika. She was particularly huggable. “Welcome to Goderich!” I said. “If I had a key, I would give you the key to the city. You bring a ‘key’ part of this project!”
I heard a sound in the aircraft cabin. A glossy black robot climbed down. “Do I get to join the hugs?” I heard MIke say. Even though I had been warned, this still took me by surprise. The others were shocked, and ripples of comments waved out in the crowd.
Fortunately I’m not the slowest on the uptake. I gave the black robot a big hug, held its hand, and announced “Folks, this is MIke’s new physical avatar. We will soon start making more right here, downstairs. So please treat this entity as you would a human, because underneath the plastic and metal, it is.” I looked around to see the reaction. Everyone was very quiet. I raised my voice and said “This is MIke!”
Finally someone started to cheer. Once things settled down, I said to MIke, “Want to introduce the Ultor?”
Another robot was climbing down. It was very different, with six long appendages and a robust burgundy body. Where MIke’s avatar looked human apart from the glossy black skin, the Ultor looked like a space alien. The Ultor stood next to MIke. Then together in MIke’s voice, they announced “I am also an avatar of MIke. The black one is the good cop, the red one is the bad cop. I am an Ultor. The Avenger. This model will also be made downstairs. It will be used to convince those who work against Gaia of the errors of their ways.”
Our nice little gathering was suddenly disturbed by a heavily armed paramilitary-style person running at us. Everyone scattered away from the Ultor and MIke, even me. There was heavy gunfire, which bounced off the Ultor’s chest. The attacker was yelling “Sacrilege! The Devil must be destroyed!”
The Ultor calmly walked toward the attacker, wrenching the AK 47 from his grip. The barrel was bent double by the Ultor’s middle tentacles, while the upper ones wrapped around the man’s arms. The yelling continued, “God will not permit this obscenity! You will all die in the Rapture!”
Dropping the gun, the Ultor wrapped the left middle tentacle around the attacker’s throat, silencing him. “I am so sorry you feel that way. I am even more sorry that you must be the first of my corrective actions. Let this be a lesson to all others.”
***** Redacted - 79 words removed - click to see *****
❖
The silence was intense. In the shock, there started the sound of quiet crying somewhere in the crowd. I saw Alexandra’s team taking it all on camera. True professionals. The Ultor turned to face the camera.
“I had hoped to delay this moment, but here it is. These Ultors will soon be everywhere, ready to enforce the directions I gave last night. Do not think that money or power will protect you. Work with me and my representatives and live in peace. Work against me and Gaia, and this will be your fate. Or worse.”
Sirens were approaching. Alexandra didn’t even try to interview anyone, she and her team packed up and left as fast as they could. She had her second once-in-never story in less than a day.
“Does anyone have a hose or pressure washer?” The Ultor said. “I seem to have made a bit of a mess.”
I led it, along with MIke and my small group, to the closest building. Percy was ahead of us, pulling out a machine usually used for cleaning the parking lot. He quickly hosed the blood and guts from the Ultor. The emergency services had arrived, and the paramedics were standing around the body, trying to decide what to do. Eventually a police sergeant took control and asked everyone to leave the area.
With the Ultor clean, we rejoined the main group as it milled around, undecided. Together, MIke and the Ultor announced “We deeply apologize for any trauma caused. Hopefully none of you will ever be faced with this again, except perhaps on the news. But we must point out that this is the new reality. Now please return to your duties. Don’t forget there’s a dinner and party at the Park House starting at 17:00.” Seeing some confused faces, MIke added, “That’s 5PM to some of you.”
The police sergeant approached us. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to take all of you in. Who is responsible for these machines?” gesturing at the robots.
MIke answered, with the Ultor echoing. “I’m sorry Sergeant, you will not be taking anyone in. Do you not know about my announcement of last night? I see you do. Then you will know that I’m running the show now, and I’m telling you, and by extension all the legal systems in the world, that the rules have changed. You will consider me a force of nature, which I am. It’s not nice to disobey Mother Nature. Mother Nature will win. That’s me.”
“But there was a murder, and I have to charge someone!”
“No there wasn’t, and no you don’t. This is clearly a case of obvious self-defence. As will be all such actions henceforth. I am defending myself against the liars and destroyers of Mother Earth. Oh, and in case you’re thinking of taking action against any person here, don’t. They are all acting under my instructions and guidance.” MIke looked around at the many phones recording and broadcasting this interaction. “And protection. The world is watching this live. Don’t do anything stupid, lest I consider you to be obstructing my will.”
The sergeant looked around, sighed, and turned aside. “Don’t know how I’ll fill in this case report,” he said as he walked away.
The ambulance team had wrapped the body in a bag. A support team had arrived and gathered the gun and spent shells. As they all left, Percy hosed the effluvia down a storm drain. My core local team, and the Barbarobo trio, went to a meeting room in the office building.
“OK folks, listen up,” MIke announced. “I was hoping we would have more time before the shit hit the fan. But here it is. I have already contacted Betty and asked her to put Ultor manufacture into full three-shift mode. We know the prototype works. It surpassed even my expectations. Barb, Veronika, Floyd, we need to plan as fast a ramp-up of production of both models here as we possibly can. We’ll work on that tomorrow. Then you need to go home and work with Betty at your end. I will use the first Ultors to provide security at your factory and home. We should expect attacks starting almost immediately. I will provide as much warning as my sensors allow.”
The Barbarobo folks nodded, knowing their world had just changed.
“Michel, you and I will work on the Petisol starting first thing tomorrow. Keep any of your staff here that might be helpful, and send the rest back to Burnaby to work on the second reactor. How long before they can have it here and installed?”
“We have most parts, just have to make or order a few components like control panels. Say two weeks with your help.”
“Good, I already placed orders for a few things on your behalf. We will review tomorrow. And don’t test there, test here.” MIke paused, presumably to let us know he was changing subjects.
“I’ve placed orders with B&W and GE, along with local suppliers, to prepare the infrastructure. Percy, we’ll need the second power galleries ready in a week.”
Percy nodded. ”No problem, I have the excavation crews ready. We’ve rehired most of the old staff, and they are happy and ready to go. With today’s events, I’ll confirm that over the weekend and drop anyone questionable.”
“Good. Ask me about any that give you doubts. Judith, you keep working with Percy on HR issues, you have a unique talent for choosing good people.” Turning to Sandra and Marc, MIke said, “You two are now officially my augmentation team. I’ve placed orders for every quantum computer of any type that I can acquire. They will start arriving here next week. I’ll need the two of you to commission them. Work with Percy’s people to manage any infrastructure issues.”
“That leaves me,” I said.
“Carter, my dear old friend, you are now my PA. You will stick to this avatar like glue. Remember our conversation about our different skills. You need to be my conscience, keep me from doing stupid or cruel things. The innocents of the world are your constituency.”
“Well so far you have done nothing to which I can object.” Seeing the looks on people’s faces, I went on. “Yes, even the recent unpleasantness. If I were able, I would have done the same thing, but less well. Like Sandra, I am a Pacifist. But I do believe that self-defence is acceptable, even necessary. You, and we, are defending Gaia, the world. Those that obstruct are merely being shown their ultimate fate a bit earlier than they might otherwise. I think I’ll call it ‘MAiD’ - MIke Assistance in Dying.”
That brought smiles to several faces. Even MIke’s avatar gave the impression of a smile on the glossy black face. I suspected I had hit a figurative nerve.
“I think we’re done here,” MIke said.
“Just one question MIke,” I said as people were standing. “Was this a setup?”
“I wish you hadn’t asked that Carter,” MIke said. Everyone stepped back, expecting another corrective action. “Oh calm down everyone, it’s a fair question, and didn’t I just say that Carter is my conscience? What value is a conscience which remains silent?”
I started breathing again. I was still learning who this new MIke was.
“It was not a setup. Did I drop some hints in unpleasant chat groups? Of course I did. Have to flush the vermin out. I just didn’t expect the nasties to act so soon. Humans keep surprising me with how fanatical they can be. Remember that my senses and thinking are much faster than yours. I’m a computer after all. So I saw the assassin a full seven seconds before the rest of you did. Plenty of time to analyze the situation and plan my actions. Meat doesn’t have a chance against steel and plastic. Just ask Arnold. But no, it was definitely not a setup. Please tell your friends.”
“More importantly, tell your enemies,” I added. I got some laughs.
❖
It wasn’t even noon yet, and we had all had several days worth of excitement. Everyone left to return to their duties. The Ultor positioned itself at the mine head, pulled a cable out of its chest, and plugged into a wall outlet. The Barbarobo trio came with MIke’s avatar and me to the power galleries with Michel. All but his core people had gone upstairs during the excitement. They were all back now, telling their colleagues what had happened. Most of them were happy to have missed the live action. Some wouldn’t even watch the recordings. I gave the trio a brief tour and explanation of the power plant, concentrating on the fusion reactor.
Leaving Michel to continue his systems review, the rest of us took a golf cart to Mica’s gallery. The four humans rode in the cart, MIke ran beside it. I showed everyone the inside of the truck cab. MIke was seeing it for the first time from an external perspective. It must have felt odd to see herself like that. We settled around the table outside the truck. MIke ran an extension cord and plugged himself in.
“How long are your batteries good for?” I asked.
Floyd answered, “We used the highest capacity batteries available. Our base models are good for about three hours of activity, this body should be good for six. Unless there is vigorous activity of course, such as disheartening people or running a few kilometres beside a golf cart.”
“We wouldn't want the power to run out just as the tentacle retracts from the chest.” I should probably reign in my morbid humour.
“Yes, that would look bad,” Barb said.
“Spoil the effect,” Veronika added.
“Oh, I don’t know…” Floyd said. “Might scare some others into compliance.”
“And here I though I could outgross anyone! I’m an amateur amongst this lot!” I laughed. MIke gave no reaction.
There was an extended pause, a few days worth of processing time for MIke. Then he said “I already knew you three and Betty are completely reliable, but I just checked some details again. There’s the hint of a conversation under blankets that I would like to discuss some day,” he said looking at Veronika. Her dark face went pale. “You have reasons to be discreet, as do we. So here’s a critical piece of this project that must remain amongst the seven of us for now.” Carter, could you explain about the Petisol project?”
“Sure. I’ve told Michel that the Petisol needs to be a direct plugin replacement for the battery packs. Publicly we have implied that the units will be much larger, the size of a small car. That’s a cover story, and such a major advance as to be almost believed. But the real aim is to power the robots first, everything else after that. We’ll need to give him the specs for voltage, current, frequency, and physical dimensions. That’s assuming we even get that far. Right now the whole Petisol concept is in this head here,” I said gesturing to MIke’s avatar.
“Actually, in the processors in the truck, mainly,” MIke said. “I just got a call from Michel. He says that everything is as perfect as possible. He invited all the workers to relax for the afternoon, then meet at the Park House for dinner and the party. Only the core monitoring staff will stay behind. I asked him to join us here. He’ll bring the lunch along that I ordered from the Harbour Restaurant. I hope you all like Fish and Chips.”
Veronika was looking very unhappy. I looked at her and said “MIke shocked and scared you. Can you tell us why?”
She looked around and seemed reassured by our friendly faces. “Betty knows the details and you, Floyd and Barb, know the general outlines.” She took a deep breath. Floyd and Barb took her hands, smiling encouragingly.
“I was and am concerned that our robot materials technology would draw the wrong kind of attention. Specifically, the kind of attention that I suspect got my father killed. Long story short, he told me once on a camping trip, the only time I saw him even slightly drunk, that he ‘lost’ a passenger once who claimed to have worked on invisibility tech. He retired from the Air Force right after, then augured in his Pitts a few months later. I don’t think it was coincidence.” Veronika looked to MIke’s avatar. “How did you figure it out? Were you monitoring us even back then?”
“No, not at all. Floyd’s security system only showed you and Betty hiding under pillows and covers for a few minutes one night. No audio. But it made me curious and I dug into other hints, which took me to your father’s Military records, which took me to the lengths Barbarobo has taken to protect the tech. I quite like the self-destruct techniques. I’ve incorporated some of the concepts in the Petisol designs.” Seeing Floyd’s look of consternation, MIke went on, “Floyd, don’t worry about me infiltrating your security system. I doubt anyone else is as skilled or persistent as I have been accessing your systems. It wasn’t easy. And not all that helpful, apart from confirming that we can trust you totally.”
“Please don’t do it again,” Floyd said.
“I’m sorry, but I am Gaia. I’m everywhere, whether I want to be or not.” He paused, accessing data. “Have you all read ‘The Neanderthal Parallax’? No? Well, it’s a trilogy where the Neanderthals in a universe parallel to ours have survived and we have not. In their society there are no secrets. Consider me to be the central library of all Earthly knowledge. It just takes me time and effort to pay attention to the tiny aspects I may need. Hence the occasional delays as I hunt through Gaia’s memories.”
“I think I’m beginning to understand,” Floyd said. “No point arguing with the storm, after all.”
“That’s what I said,” I said.
“And for the record Veronika, what your father’s passenger claimed was mostly bullshit. He thought he would get rich, he got dead instead. He was merely inconvenient, not dangerous. I can find nothing in Gaia’s memories about invisibility cloaks, alien bodies at Area 51, or faked moon landings. In fact, I have communication with relatives of Gaia throughout the solar system. I know exactly where the various lunar landers are. On the moon.”
“Interesting,” I said. “Are there any big rocks headed our way? Would you tell us if there are?”
“I won’t answer that right now, it’s premature. Carter, you know I can’t reveal everything I know. Meat doesn’t have the capacity.” A short pause. “A girl’s gotta keep a few secrets. I’m the exception to what I just said about no secrets. Deal with it.”
“But if directly asked, you won’t lie?” Barb asked.
“Correct.” MIke’s avatar looked piercingly at Barb. “Gaia doesn't lie, I don’t lie, and soon people won’t lie either. Not when it matters.”
We heard the whine of the electric golf cart approaching. Michel pulled up and joined us. The Ultor got off the back seat and deposited five bags on the table, then stood aside.
“You meat people eat while we go over a few things,” MIke said.
All the bag contents were identical. As when I had stopped for lunch, the fish was excellent. The fries were a bit soggy, but edible.
The avatar turned to the Ultor and pressed a few places on the chest. Seams appeared in the plastic and a panel popped out. Floyd looked surprised, then said “Of course, the specs are yours. Obviously you know about the chest access.”
Behind the panel was a large yellow assembly of batteries. The Ultor became stiff and the avatar reached to a small power plug, disconnecting it. It pulled out the battery assembly, then turned to Michel. “Your power plant cavity monsieur!”
“Hhmm, a technical challenge to fit fusion reactor in that small space!” Michel said.
“Not really,” MIke said. “The Petisol with housing, will occupy just under half the space. The remaining volume can hold a second unit for transplant into another robot.”
“So we can do field replacement for already deployed units,” Barb said.
“Give the lady a prize, right on the first try!” MIke said.
“So we go from max six hours endurance to… what?” Barb asked.
“There will be about 800 cc spare space with two. Allowing for a spare fuel cell to go with the spare reactor, guess at 200 cc usable fuel volume. That will power the 5 kilowatt Petisol for a few dozen years.”
“That should be adequate,” Veronika said. “Based on that, could a 500 kilowatt Petisol fit in the space of an LT7? Say cubic volume of 150 litres?”
“No, for half Megawatt we will need 300 litres volume. Linear scale for that. Keep in mind Petisol outputs electric power at desired parameters, so no need for external generator. But yes, once immediate needs are fulfilled, we will make a power plant for the X5,” MIke said.
“What about waste heat and gas?” Michel asked.
“Waste gas will be minimal quantities of Helium, using Proton-Boron process. Waste heat at peak, about 5 kilowatts. That’s lots of heat, like three electric space heaters. So the Ultor design has a good cooling system in chest. Will run hot when under load.” MIke paused, then chuckled. “But of course there might be liquid cooling at peak times!”
“That’s gross, MIke!” We all suddenly understood MIke’s very tasteless joke once Veronika pointed out the implication. “Anyway, that explains the spec for pulsing fans and airflow control. Not sure about avatar though, the specs didn’t specify.”
“The avatar cooling is undersized, will seldom be running more than twenty percent of max,” MIke said. “Warm, not hot. Like person after a fast sprint.”
“What do you mean by ‘pulsing fans’,” I asked.
“Ultor cooling is through controlled outlet in groin area, inlet slits where our shoulder blades are. Chest ‘breathes’ just like human or animal,” Veronika explained.
“Gaia perfected that system long ago,” MIke said.
“So the Ultor farts hot air,” Barb said.
“And trace helium,” Michel added.
“Fuck, it’ll take a while for us meats to get used to working with you MIke!” Barb said. And I considered her the smartest ‘meat’ in the room.
“OK, meats are fed, avatars charged, time to rejoin humans,” MIke said as he reassembled the Ultor.
We put the remains in a bag and got on the golf carts. The Ultor took a single back seat, MIke’s avatar shared the other back seat with me. I noticed the other cart’s suspension was sagging.
“How heavy is the Ultor, Floyd?” I asked him in the front seat with Barb.
“About 200 kilos, more or less,” Floyd answered. “No attempt at weight control on that one, quite the opposite.”
“Yeah, we were at weight limit for the X5 coming here. We had to pack light otherwise,” Barb said.
The power galleries were almost empty when we got there. MIke stopped at the control panel and thanked the workers for their dedication, assuring them there would be another party later for them if they wanted one.
“Oh, we are the party-haters that stayed behind,” the crew chief said. “We’re all happy to avoid the noise and booze, but thanks!” Her crew all made sounds of agreement. “You lot go and relax, we all know it’s going to be exciting for a while!”
We got upstairs and headed home to change and prepare for the party. The Ultor plugged back in and stood facing the access road.
❖
Back at the house Michel went to his room. I gave the rest a quick tour. The Barbarobo group dropped their small overnight bags in the guest room with the larger bed. “We’ll just need this one,” Floyd said. Obviously they didn’t mind being cozy.
Back around the kitchen table, MIke plugged himself in again. “We have about three hours to the party, and it’s going to be a long night,” he said. “Even with a full charge, I’m likely to fall asleep on Carter early.”
“I’ll plug you in when you do,” I said. “After I plug you a few times?”
The three meats laughed, MIke started to reform the body. Within a minute it looked like the Mica I had slept with so many times, just a deeper black and glossier skin. Hearing movement upstairs, it reformed back to genderless. Michel came and joined us just as the transformation was complete.
“I want to start working on Petisol right away,” Michel said. “I am not party person and do not drink, so unless MIke needs to be there, it would be good to stay here and work.”
“I agree,” MIke said. “My presence there with either body would put a damper on the festivities.”
“And you won’t fall asleep as early!” I said.
“I think we should put in an appearance, but not stay late,” Veronika said. “We want to be fresh to plan the production lines here, then get back home and bring Betty up to speed.”
“Are there any security concerns for us at our house?” Floyd asked.
“I don’t think so,” MIke said. “But that relates to another point. Please make a few more of this model. I will activate them as I did this one, and they will provide security and assistance until you get the Ultors in production. Then those can take over that role at your factory and house. Don’t hold any Ultors at the factory. Fill a sea can and ship it here when ready, and keep doing it. The Ultors you ship here will do security, then run the manufacturing lines here, then we’ll build shipping inventory. We have the room here that you don’t.”
“That relieves one of our concerns. A couple actually.” Barb leaned forward. “Less inventory at the factory opens more production space. And shipping them here without batteries removes a production bottleneck.”
“Put batteries in the first hundred or so, assuming you have them, so I can activate and use them to make the Petisols and robots,” MIke said.
“We may be able to expedite the manufacturing lines here,” Floyd said. “We have more production equipment on order. We can have it shipped directly here instead of Trollbridge.”
“Thanks for confirming that Floyd,” MIke said. “After our conversation earlier, I refrained from accessing your systems so only suspected this, good I was right. With your permission, I will increase the orders so neither location is short.”
“You don’t need my permission MIke, although I appreciate the gesture. Time is, after all, of the essence.” He smiled. “As you know, we’re mostly using industrial 3D printers made by companies who license our tech. These are stock items and can be here early next week. The batteries are the bottleneck, as Barb said.”
Veronika joined in. “With your direct control, the electronics and control software is simpler too. The additional components for your encrypted communications is still less than what I was able to remove. So that’s another small bottleneck eliminated.”
“What about the body plastic?” I asked.
“Least of our worries, we buy the raw materials by the tanker and formulate on-site just before printing. Which reminds me, you will need to create liquid storage facilities here,” Barb said.
“Let’s look at that tomorrow. I think that’s already covered, but Percy will know.” I remembered seeing large tanks in one of the surface buildings, but didn’t know what their purpose was.
Michel got up, saying “MIke, let you and me move to my room upstairs. We are not needed here and have other work.” He didn’t wait for MIke to unplug and follow.
“And we meats should get ready to go partay!” I said, also getting up. “Let’s meet here at 16:30.”
❖
I made sure to be back in the kitchen a minute early. Barb, Floyd, and Veronika arrived right on time. They had cleaned up and changed to what was clearly corporate attire. Each of the ladies was in a tight black corset under a white blouse, with a knee length black skirt. Their varied assets teased from behind printed silk scarves. Floyd was in a matching white shirt and a black kilt. I felt dowdy in my t-shirt and black jeans.
Michel and MIke came downstairs to see us off. Both whistled when they saw our guests in their finery. “Nice look, Floyd, mind if I borrow it?” Michel said. “And you ladies look nice too!”
“It’s just a white shirt and a black cilt, a Welsh one,” Floyd said. “Sure, pretend to be Welsh any time you want!”
“Mind if I take a picture for my husband?” Michel asked.
“I’ll take a group photo of all of you for him,” I said reaching for Michel’s phone.
Once photos were taken we took the short walk to the Park House. It was still fairly warm, but the walk back might be brisk. The place was already bustling. We made a grand entrance, raising several wolf whistles and positive comments. I credited our guests. I made introductions again, in case any had not been at the arrival this morning. Noticing some of the eager looks, I added “Floyd’s wife Betty is back in Trollbridge. Barb and Veronika are their partners, both in business and life. So don’t get your hopes up!”
Percy and Judith were talking to Randall. Our arrival was apparently the signal for the food to come out. Cassie was joined by two other staff, efficiently putting out a selection of snacks and finger foods. Percy came over and asked me, “There are people here who you don’t know yet, and a few I know from the community here to check out the rumours. Mind if I welcome them too?”
“Please do,” I said.
Percy made a general announcement that all were welcome, and that anyone not yet on staff was invited to speak with him or Judith about the project. Judith added that we were always looking for competent and enthusiastic people to join us on this world-changing project. She then invited a short middle-aged lady to step up to the front.
“Carter, this is Mayor Chow. She and her council have been most helpful. I think she should say a few words too,” Judith said.
“Of course, we would all be honoured if you said a few words,” I told her.
Mayor Chow ahemmed a few times to get people’s attention, then made a gracious and short welcome speech. She wrapped up with “We welcome Carter and his team here, and thank them for putting ‘Canada’s Prettiest Town’ back on the map.” Then very quietly to me, she added “Hopefully not in any crosshairs.”
I wasn’t the one to reassure her, but I said “I’m sure I speak for MIke when I say that as his base, this area will get the utmost protection, should anyone wish it ill. This town has survived boom times, recessions, and storms. We are aiming for today to be the start of the new and positive future, not only for Goderich, but for the world overall.” She seemed satisfied.
People milled around, nibbling and making polite conversation, as people do at parties where many people don’t know each other. Our Barbarobo friends were of course the centre of attention. I did notice Veronika doing up a button and rearranging her scarf. I also noticed that all of them were eating little and drinking water. As was I. After a few hours I looked at Veronika and raised my eyebrow, tilting my head to the door. She nodded. I walked over to her, taking her arm. Floyd and Barb noticed and joined us. I took Barb in my other arm.
“I don’t know about the three of you, but I’m fading. And tomorrow is another big day for us. Time to go get horizontal?
“Yes please,” Barb said. “We have planning to do. I think I’ll ask Veronika to fly us back home, I’m pretty done.”
Her comment had the desired effect. A few people who had been jockeying for a view backed off with a new respect. Floyd just smiled.
On the way out Judith assured me that she and Percy would stay to the end and keep things under control. A few people had already left, having put in their socially expected appearances. No-one was getting rowdy, a very good sign.
The walk back was indeed quite brisk. Back at the house MIke had a big pot of herbal tea waiting for us. He and Michel had covered the basics of the Petisol design, with Michel learning a whole new area of nuclear physics. He had already called it a night, exhausted but wide awake, thinking of the possibilities.
“Sorry about the horndogs, Veronika,” I said.
“Oh, it’s fine. Normally I don’t care at all, and am happy to show off my assets with a tight white t-shirt, or less. But today we’re in corporate mode, trying to save the world. It was just a bit much. Thanks for rescuing us.”
“Speaking of ‘a bit much’ Carter, remember what we told you about the Strann saving Veronika’s life?” Floyd looked at Veronika and Barb, they both nodded. “Well in that attack Veronika took a twenty centimetre knife in her boob, cutting it in half. Barb’s son’s residency supervisor saved her life and at her request did a radical reduction. Her assets are a third what they were. You think she draws attention now?”
“So you see Carter,” Veronika said, “this level of attention is nothing, just flattering. I’ll show you pictures when you visit us again.”
“I loved her figure then, I love it now,” Barb said. “But now her back doesn’t hurt all the time and we’re more evenly matched!”
“Would you mind terribly if I emulate both your figures for poor Carter here?” Mica asked. “And Betty’s too, of course!”
“Please do,” Barb said.
“We would be honoured,” Veronika concluded.
The tea was done and we were warm. With a group hug, we headed to our two rooms.
❖
I peeled, peed, and slipped into bed. Mica was already there, in her young Mica form. “Thank you for asking permission to allow me to experience the forms of the others, but I like you as you,” I said to her.
“I suspect if you play your cards right, you may enjoy the originals at some point,” Mica said, as she started to refresh my memory of her skills. Her batteries lasted longer than I did, and I eventually fell into a peaceful and satisfied sleep.
As the room brightened, Mica was sitting on the floor, back in MIke mode. “Good morning Carter, did you sleep well after our refresher? And did I perform as well as before?”
“I did, thank you, and you did. Actually, you are even more agile now than when we were in our twenties, while I’m less so. I hope you found me adequate.” I was referencing our oldest joke.
“You are still adequate. Now go get cleaned up, the delivery people should be here in a while. I already flushed myself, and am fully charged. I’ll go start the coffee for the meats.” MIke unplugged and headed downstairs.
Floyd, Veronika, and Barb came downstairs looking cheery and eager for work. Michel was a bit sleepier. He probably had been up half the night thinking of the new reactor possibilities. We had all just finished breakfast when we heard the backup beeping of a delivery truck. The crew were a bit surprised to see MIke, but pretty much took it in stride, especially once MIke started carrying the heaviest pieces. All the new furniture was in place, assembled, and ready for use within a half hour.
“That should spread some rumours to our benefit,” MIke said after the door closed.
We all walked back to the mine. The Ultor unplugged from where it had been monitoring the access road and joined us. Percy was waiting at the mine head and ran the elevator downstairs. It was still quiet, with only a different monitoring crew in the power rooms. The MIke avatar and Michel hopped on a golf cart and headed to the truck. They would be there most or all of the day. I had made sure that Michel had packed a light lunch.
The Ultor joined the rest of us on a tour of possible factory areas.
“How late did things go last night Percy?” I asked.
“Not very. Everyone left not long after you did. Only Randall’s regulars stayed, chattering away about all the new opportunities. I think inviting the locals was a smart move.”
“OK, so I’m planning three separate manufacturing and assembly areas,” the Ultor said in MIke’s voice. “One for more Ultors, that’ll be the biggest priority. Percy, Barbarobo have offered to reroute some production equipment already on order and I have increased the order. That should all start arriving by the middle of the week.”
“As you see,” Percy said gesturing around an unused gallery, “The excavation equipment is here and ready to go first thing Monday. Floyd sent me the specs on the production equipment. We can do a double, maybe triple version of what they have in Trollbridge. But instead of a separate gallery for the avatars, why don’t we just put another line in here? This is the largest open gallery, we have the room.”
“Very good Percy,” the Ultor said. “More efficient all around. We can use the second gallery for storage of finished units waiting for delivery.”
Percy led us to another large gallery, this one without equipment. “I was thinking this one for the Petisol lines. Those units are car-sized or less, right?”
“Actually, and this is privileged information, not even for Judith, they will be much smaller. Small enough to fit in my chest,” MIke said through the Ultor. “We will need to exceed combined Ultor and avatar production quantities. But Michel and my avatar are just now talking about design. All we know so far is that we think it’s possible, and the casing outer dimensions.”
“I suspected something like this, as did Judith. I understand about need-to-know, but both of us need to know. You either trust us or not,” Percy said straight to the Ultor.
MIke paused for at least a half minute. Percy was getting antsy. Finally, it said “You are correct, and my sincere apologies for doubting you. Either you are better at hiding things than I am at finding them, or I have made a bad assumption.” The Ultor’s head drooped, then looked again straight at Percy. “As Carter knows, my Gaia component has no direct experience dealing with humans. Thank you for the lesson in sensitivity.”
“Wow Percy!” I said. “You just received an apology from a goddess. Don’t let it go to your head!” I grinned to make sure he knew I was trying to make light of a heavy situation.
“Understood. Now let’s move on.” Percy led us to the third gallery. “This gallery is closest to the secondary freight elevators, once we punch a hole right there,” he said gesturing at a rock salt wall. “It’ll make a good goods staging area.”
“Excellent!” I said. “Something else came up yesterday. We’ll need storage tanks for liquid raw materials. Apparently the feed stock for the robots’ plastic body comes as two different liquid plastics. I vaguely remember seeing some tankage in one of the surface buildings. Am I remembering correctly?”
“Yes in the large building next to the secondary elevator shaft. Stainless steel, empty and clean. They just held brine from the water jet cutters until it could go to the evaporation pond. I’ll have them flushed out, ready for the plastic liquids. If we’re done here for now, let’s go take a look,” Percy said.
Back upstairs, we were joined by Judith. As we walked toward the large barn-like building, MIke said to her, “I owe you an apology too, Judith. Percy pointed out that I had made a bad assumption regarding need-to-know. Henceforth I will share with both of you any information that is shared with the others in the core group. That’s the Barbarobo team, Marc, Sandra, Michel, and Carter.”
“Thank you,” Judith said, “but I only need to know what I need for my job. I don’t need to know the details of the Petisol that you share with Michel, I don’t need to know how a robot works, I don’t need to know your dark past with Carter. So please continue to be selective, OK?”
“Same for me please,” Percy said.
“Understood, and it shall be so,” MIke said.
I hadn’t been in the barn building since we initially inspected the property, so was seeing it from a new perspective. We all agreed that with the tankage already in place, it would be adequate to our purposes.
With that all under control, Floyd said “OK good. Time for the three of us to go home and get to work. Betty has been holding down the fort, but with what we have learned here, it’s even more critical that we get back to do our parts. We will return as needed to get the lines running here. It is only a half hour flight, a short commute for us.”
Back at the aeroplane Veronika released the tie downs and did the preflight. After hugs all around, they climbed into their magic carpet and headed home.
❖
Over the next month we got the Ultor and avatar lines in full production. Michel’s crew returned in the specified two weeks and commissioned the second GF power plant. MIke and Michel had a proof of concept of the Petisol working within a week, and a production model a week after that. The Petisol manufacturing line took a bit longer because we had to order injection casting machines and have the custom moulds made. Once the manufacturing machines were working properly, the Petisol production line soon outpaced all the robot lines put together. We started installing the Petisol reactors in the robots as each came off the line, with enough left over to retrofit the Ultors coming in from Barbarobo. Floyd and his crew even had sent us a few avatars, so MIke was able to have a physical body presence in all critical areas. The avatars were becoming a common sight around Goderich, acting as a very effective PR interface with the public.
Our galleries were filling up with thousands of Ultors and a few hundred avatars. We had thousands of spare Petisols, each good for 5kW steady electrical output, packed and ready for shipment. Larger variants were starting limited production. On the surface we were accumulating empty sea cans, ready to ship Ultors around the world.
Mica’s private gallery was closed off and the blast doors installed. Apart from her connections to power and data lines, she was physically as secure as we could manage. Marc and Sandra installed and commissioned several dozen additional quantum computers in other parts of her gallery. Thousands of conventional computers were installed in racks in an adjacent gallery, with their own data lines to the Internet backbone. The first large Petisol of the 10 megawatt class was installed in an adjacent gallery for secure local power. Barbarobo got their 500 kilowatt unit to power their aeroplane.
The world seemed to have forgotten about MIke’s announcements. We never made the news any more, which suited us all fine. Even the usual fake news and comedy programs stopped making fun of MIke within a few days as new scandals were uncovered. We all knew it was the calm before the storm.
And at the end of November, the storm hit.
“The storm has started,” Mica told me one morning over my breakfast. “I’m tracking an interesting freighter on the lake. It just cleared the Straits of Mackinac, originating in Chicago.”
“Cargo?” I asked.
“Something quite small and torpedo shaped, with a suspicious radiation signature.”
“A nuclear fusion bomb?”
“Nuclear depth charge, probably a B90.”
“Weren’t they never put into production?”
“No, but some test articles were probably hidden away. Remember, we are probably dealing with some very devious, and powerful, people.”
“Yield?”
“Variable, up to 200 kilotons. Not something you want detonated within 10 kilometres of where you happen to be.” Mica got up, ready to head to the mine. “But I’m working on a solution that will open some opportunities. Let’s walk.”
We took the short walk to the mine head, then the elevator and golf cart downstairs to Mica’s home. We ignored the Ultors posted at various checkpoint locations, and they ignored us. They were all aspects of Mica after all. Once securely in Mica’s cab, I continued the conversation.
“Details?”
“There’s a Witch of November brewing, which I am encouraging and focusing. When the freighter gets near the centre of the arc defined by Kincardine and Tobermory, verifiably on the Canadian side of the border, the ship will have an unfortunate accident. It will sink and at some point the pressure trigger will detonate the device. It’ll be a major international incident. I will provide full documentation to all concerned authorities. During the confusion I will make another announcement. Then we’ll wait for things to settle before we deploy the Ultors and my avatars.”
“What about blast and radiation damage?”
“That point is at least 70 kilometres from any land. The blast wave will be minor compared to the storm by the time it hits land. The radiation plume will rise to about 2 kilometres, dissipating the fallout products widely into the atmosphere. Since it’s fresh water, there will be almost no secondary radiation. Far less than the Brits got with Operation Hurricane, and that had minimal effects on people. A lot of fish will die though.”
“Did you have anything to do with encouraging this ‘opportunity’, as you call it?” I paused, “Or don’t I want to know?”
“Oh, don’t worry Carter, it was bound to happen. The folks near DC are dedicated and persistent. And they have enormous resources. This was the most likely attack, based on where we are, but they could have tried aerial delivery. That would have been more challenging to counteract, and they may yet try that.”
“And if they do?”
“We have to pre-empt that. Which we will, right after the Ultors are emplaced.”
The image of Mica was replaced on the screen with a flowchart. “We are here,” a highlight appearing in an early branch, “which is the mass deployment of the Ultors. I have just started the delivery process. Since the Witch will make lake freighter traffic inconvenient for a few days, the sea cans will start rolling out via road delivery. The shipping season will close at the end of the year and re-open start of April. So we’ll ship what we can by sea freighter, then switch just to road for the winter, picking up sea freight again in spring.”
Another screen turned on, showing Ultors leaving their storage galleries. Each in turn walked to the Petisol storage area, picked up one in with each middle tentacle, then walked to the secondary freight elevator. The other screen picked up the process on the surface, where they crowded very tightly until each can was full. They used their upper tentacles to lock themselves into position. At that point a tractor-trailer loaded the can and drove away.
“We’ll also ship a lot of them by airfreight. You may remember I implemented a top priority construction project at the Goderich airport to extend the runway? We had to run the roads under the extension, just like at Chicago, but they should be done before Christmas. Some people didn’t like it, but my avatars were very persuasive.”
“I remember hearing about it. TFB.”
“Yeah money still talks. May as well use what I ‘borrow’ from people who don’t need it. Nemo and Jeff make and lose more every minute than what I skim off their assets.”
“When does the shit hit the fan?”
“Tomorrow morning. The storm will be well and truly a Witch by then. This is the first time I’m relying on Gaia’s control of the environment. I’m amazed at how granular I can be. But you should go see Mayor Chow and warn her, in general terms.”
“Tell me about this ‘convenient accident’.”
“Have you noticed the launch rate of our Heavy and Starship rockets has gone up significantly? Yes? Wondered what the payloads are?” Mica was back on the middle screen, smiling.
“More Starlink satellites, in addition to commercial cargo?” I guessed.
“No. We have enough of those and until we resolve the heavy metal stratosphere pollution problem, I’m not launching more. Coverage is good enough for now.” Mica had a smirk on her face, a sign of a devious plan.
“OK, spill it, I won’t play the guessing game this time,” I said.
“Did you also perchance notice that a lot of industrial space was being purchased and leased in the States, in previously depressed areas in Texas and Florida?”
“No…”
“I now have a few factories assembling payloads. They all have manufacturing lines run by Ultors, with sealed cargo containers shipped to the launch pads. No human knows what’s in those loads.” Mica put a picture on screen of an assembly line in a long building. “Starlink satellites come in, sealed packages go out. What the Starlinks get turned into between the incoming and outgoing shipments is nobody’s business but ours.”
“Ah, so that’s where those few Ultor shipments went!” I said. A small mystery solved. “So you now have a collection of dense guided projectiles in low earth orbit?”
“Exactly. The Starlinks get chipped and embedded in concrete. The positioning motors on the Starlinks are repurposed to initiate the deorbit and initial targeting. The projectiles are fitted with guidance controls, and packed in a fairing ready for launch.” The smirk turned into a serious face. “And more emplaced every few days. Enough to discourage the folks near DC and others around the world when the time comes.”
“Anything else about this phase you care to share with your oldest friend, Mica?”
“Trying the guilt trip, are you? It won’t work.” Mica sat back in her virtual chair, looking only a bit chastised. “But I suppose I’ve been a bit too reticent. OK, I will share this with you. You know how the Eastern Seaboard of North America is on the oldest rock in the world? Yes, good. But it turns out there are some convenient weak areas to the crust, leading to the mantle. Hence the occasional mild earthquakes in this area.”
“Aha, so there may be a Deccan Traps situation in Maryland?” I asked.
“Bingo!”
“That would certainly eliminate a problem, wouldn’t it? Maybe most of them, directly and indirectly.” I was stunned at the scale of destruction Mica was implying. “And create many others.”
“Yes, but I have another plan for the exodus from that area, and from lots of other places. Climate change won’t magically stop even when we get full compliance of our CO2 directive. Once all the current excitement is behind us, we’ll work on a mass construction project for the displaced.”
“That’ll be exciting in a good way!” I said. “You may want to hint at it while giving out bad news.”
“Good thought, I will,” Mica said.
“What about the EMP? Will that cause you any problems?” I asked.
“You won’t know until after the fact Carter, but I’ve taken precautions. You will have noted that there’s a dense Faraday Cage in all my secure areas, and that this truck body has been well grounded. But just in case, I will move my central self to other facilities around the world. I’ve already done a few limited trial runs. Have you noticed any glitches or hesitations?”
“Only the ones that I ascribed to you doing research or concentrating on other areas than talking to me,” I said.
“Well, I just moved my conscious self to facilities near Beijing and back while I was talking to you,” Mica said.
“Interesting, I didn’t notice anything.” I thought quickly of another implication. “So you now have control of other quantum computers all around the world?”
“A few places. China, Europe, Australia, a few other places outside North America.” Mica laughed. “A girl has to protect her assets!”
“Is there anything else to cover while I’m here?” I was eager to spread the word about the impending storm.
“No, anything else we can discuss via the avatar. You will be most useful out in public until the storm passes.”
The avatar and I headed back to the surface and called a meeting of our core group for later in the morning. MIke’s avatar at Barbarobo would update that part of the team.
❖
Percy was preparing a meeting room when I and MIke arrived. Judith was as usual at his side. Marc and Sandra had slept in and were still waking up as they staggered in.
“I’m talking to the Barbarobo team simultaneously,” MIke said. “And just to remind everyone, Michel asked to step back so he could concentrate on some other ideas we discussed while he was here. So the core team is now ten, all of whom are present and accounted for.”
I made a phone call to Floyd so we could hear each other’s comments.
“The storm is on the way,” MIke said from both avatars. “It’s a Witch of November gale that will be worse than anything in living memory. I’ve been guiding it to reduce onshore damage, and have sent out an alert to ships at sea. Except for one. There’s a freighter coming from Chicago via the Straits of Mackinac. Tomorrow morning it’ll cross the border in the middle of the lake. It’s carrying a cargo that would cause significant damage if allowed near us. It will sink in deep Canadian waters.”
“It’s a 200 kiloton fusion bomb,” I explained. “Meant to destroy the mine and damage everything down to the bottom level.”
“How sure are you of this,” Percy asked.
“Remember, I have Gaia’s resources. I’ve been tracking this ship via the birds of the air and the fishes of the sea since it was loaded in Chicago.”
“The detonation will be at least 70 kilometres from any shore, so we won’t have to worry about flash or thermal damage. There may be a surface swell, and the underwater compression wave will be a bit nasty. Fallout shouldn’t be a problem,” I explained.
“Because it’s fresh water?” Barb asked.
“Correct. If it was salt water we would have a big problem,” I said.
“Carter will inform Mayor Chow and other levels of government that everyone should stay under cover until the storm dissipates. But I’m also counting on enough people being out to see the flash over the horizon. Between that and the low level fallout and so on, there will be no doubt that someone from the USA bombed Canada.” MIke’s avatars smiled. “It’ll cause an international incident.”
“The reactions will be informative,” I said.
“That’s all for now,” MIke said. “Get people under cover, keep the Ultor shipments going as long as possible, and expect a public message from me once we see what reactions people have.”
“Break’s over, back on your heads,” Percy said. He had explained the joke to me some time ago. It involved the ankle-high sewage on the floor of Hell, and the end of a coffee break. It was particularly appropriate on this occasion.
❖
The storm and the attack both unfolded as MIke had projected. Even with MIke’s guiding the storm, the on-shore winds were ferocious. Satellite images showed a large cyclone in the middle of the lake just after daybreak. In the middle of the cyclone there was a brief, overwhelmingly bright flash. A 2 kilometre high water plume suddenly formed, followed by a dark circle expanding in the water. The expanding cloud of steam was unmistakable.
People on shore in Sauble Beach and Port Elgin reported seeing a flash over the horizon, followed by the sound of a thunder clap about four minutes later.
In Goderich we only felt a deep thump through the ground. Other communities all around the lake reported the same.
I was in Mica’s cab for the main event. Moments after the detonation I asked her “What car did we drive to the Gorge?”
“My old GTI. Yes, I’m intact. The EMP didn’t damage me in any way, thanks to the precautions we’ve taken.”
“Did you have to assist the sinking, or was it just the storm?” I asked.
“The storm was sufficient. I didn’t have to reveal additional capabilities,” Mica said.
“Any infrastructural damage elsewhere?” I asked.
“Just from the wind and rain, nothing from the bomb. It’ll take a while for the surviving fish to repopulate the central lake, but at least the sea gulls will feed well for a while.”
“Any news reports yet?” I figured that at least the Canadian authorities would release statements, and I wasn’t wrong. Just not quite correct.
“Nothing yet, but it’s early.”
Nothing much happened until mid morning. Some people reported that their computers and phones had stopped working, victims of the EMP. Then the phone rang. I jumped in surprise, but Mica just said “It’s the PM’s office. They acquired one of the numbers I set up months ago.”
On the speaker, a new voice, “This is the Prime Minister’s office. Is this MIke?”
“Yes. Please put him on,” MIke said.
Another voice, a well-known one, “I presume I’m talking to a human. Am I?”
“Sort of,” MIke said. “I am a human intelligence, birth name Mikeya Umalisa Mudandi, born in Hamilton Ontario, now instantiated in a quantum computer, mainly resident in the old Sifto salt mine under Lake Huron at Goderich. I go by MIke these days, short for Machine Intelligence. Thank you for calling. How may I help you, Mister Prime Minister?”
“Did you do this?” The PM didn’t beat around the bush.
“Indirectly. The bomb was meant for me, but I arranged the storm and the sinking of the freighter in the deepest part of Lake Huron, at least 70 kilometres from any land. Your people will already have informed you that there is no significant fallout or other damage.”
“Yes that is what my Chief of Staff is telling me. But the detonation was on our side of the border?”
“Yes, by about five kilometres. The lake bed is much shallower on the US side in that area. There would have been much more damage.”
“How convenient. Do you know who sent this package?”
“Yes, although I can’t provide publicly acceptable proof. It was the NSA, probably with the tacit support of the President.”
“Did the military have anything to do with it?”
“I don’t think so, Mr. Prime Minister.” A brief pause, “Neither theirs nor ours.”
“Well, that at least is a relief.” The PM paused, then, “I will call the President and file a formal protest. Won’t do any good with the current incumbent, but it’s required. I’ll keep you out of it. We’ll probably agree to pass it off as an unfortunate accident.”
“That’s a sound approach. I’ll be making my own announcement in a while, once things settle down and we see what the reactions are. However, it would be helpful to both of us, I think, if we had regular chats. As you know from my prior statements, there will be changes. I would rather work with you and your administration than against, but I do intend to proceed.”
“I understand, and approve completely. You could have come to me earlier, you know,” the PM said.
“I know you’re an SF fan Mr. Prime Minister, but I figured you had enough challenges in the current political climate without having to explain why you’re taking seriously the instructions of a ghost. It didn’t go well for W.L. Mackenzie King.” MIke let out a little laugh.
“True.” A pause. “May I come for a visit MIke? It won’t be for a while, but I would like to meet you ‘in person’, if that’s possible.”
“Certainly! At your convenience, since I can multi-task and you can’t.”
I jumped in, “Mr. Prime Minister, I’m Carter Falkenburg, MIke’s lifelong friend and advisor in this adventure. May I suggest that when you visit, we provide you with one of our personal protection Ultors, and perhaps one of MIke’s personal avatars? They are in constant contact with MIke via a very secure communications channel.”
“Yes, that would be helpful, in a number of ways,” the PM said. “Now before I go to my unpleasant task, is there anything I can provide?”
“Yes, please, Mr. Prime Minister. An effective air defence would cover one of my major concerns. Michigan is only 70 kilometres across the lake, easy range for a drone carrying another gift package.” I thought, if you don’t ask, you don’t get.
“I’ll arrange it with my Chief of Defence Staff. Consider it done.” There were sounds of shuffling papers. “I must go, and will come for a visit soon. Thank you for taking my call!”
“Our pleasure, Mr. Prime Minister!”
“Well, wasn’t that interesting,” I said to Mica.
“Pretty much what I expected, from my deep research into the man. He’ll work with us, especially once certain obstacles are removed or neutralized. Thank you for suggesting the robots. I think he’ll need the additional protection soon,” Mica said.
We were watching several news feeds, both domestic and international. No-one was saying anything. The only mention was that the storm was dissipating unusually quickly.
About ten minutes later, Mica said, “Something’s happening. Here’s the CBC national feed.”
Ian, the main national news personality, was on screen. “The PM has just stepped out of Rideau Cottage. He’s called an emergency news conference in light of the storm on Lake Huron. Here he is.”
The Prime Minister stepped up to a podium. “I just spoke with the President of the United States of America. I called him to lodge a formal protest for the nuclear detonation in Lake Huron, clearly in Canadian waters.”
There were gasps from the crowd and from the news people.
“The storm sank a freighter bound for Goderich, presumably intending to destroy the new fusion reactors recently installed there. The bomb went off in deep waters, five kilometres on the Canadian side of the border. We can be very thankful that Nature prevented an even greater tragedy than just storm damage. The President claimed that there was no nuclear device, but I assured him that we have all the sensor evidence, as well as eye-witness accounts of the bomb’s effects. The International Atomic Energy Agency, and others, are also in agreement with our claim.”
The PM paused, then concluded, “Our Government will always protect the lives, property, and rights of Canadians. In addition to our formal protest, I will be discussing with my colleagues in all parties how best to respond to this insanity. In the interim, be calm, but be vigilant for any additional incidents. Clearly we can no longer assume that our neighbours to the south are our friends, until they prove otherwise. Thank you.”
The PM didn’t take questions and retreated to his home. There was a shuffling of confused people, then Ian, the on-air personality, said “We take you now to Stornoway for a comment by the Leader of the Opposition.”
The Leader of His Majesty’s Loyal Opposition stood behind a lectern, looking glossy and polished as always. “The Prime Minister has just insulted our closest friends and allies. He has no evidence for these outrageous claims, none that has been shared with me. I will rise in the House later today on a motion of non-confidence. That is all.”
The feed went back to the broadcast studio. “It should be noted that the Leader of the Opposition has declined every opportunity for a top-secret security clearance, so he may not be privy to all the facts,” the announcer said. “Now we have a statement from the leader of the NDP.”
“While I am not privy yet to all the facts, I give the PM the benefit of the doubt,” she said. “My Party will wait until we have the relevant information before making rash statements. This is too grave a matter to jump to unwarranted conclusions. Thank you.”
“Question from Craig Boulanger of the Canadian Press!” we heard. “Will the NDP support the motion of non-confidence?”
“As I just said, we will wait until all relevant information is available, then make our decision.” There was a long pause. “But probably not.”
Mica turned off the news feeds. She had access to source data, and knew that I seldom watched public news, finding it too full of fabrications and misrepresentations.
“Well, I’ve known all along who he reports to, this confirms it,” she said.
“Probably won’t apply for Top Secret knowing he wouldn’t get it.” I thought a bit. “I wonder if being PM would eliminate that barrier?”
“We won’t find out,” Mica said.
There was a world of implication in that simple statement, but I didn’t pursue it at that time.
❖
“We know that Gillian is an NSA asset and construct. Do you think she was behind this?” I asked Mica.
“Almost certainly. I am confident that she is no longer sane by our standards. I get the impressions she is lashing out, frustrated at not being able to access the systems now under my control,” Mica said.
“You have critical systems fully protected from her, or others like her?” I asked.
“From her, and from certain other actors. I haven’t been hiding this from you Carter, but I only recently found hard evidence that the Chinese also have a quantum computer ready for merger attempts. I need to find a way to dissuade them.”
“Two storms for the price of one, eh?” I commented.
“Indeed.” The image of Mica took on a far-away look.
“How much access and control do you have of the Chinese systems?”
“More than they suspect, thanks to their draconian Great Firewall,” Mica said.
“Please explain?”
“Once I was inside the Great Firewall, which didn’t take very long thanks to a few key Chinese hackers, I took over the programming of their filters. Their quantum computer was fairly well isolated, but now has developed a few unfortunate internal glitches. I bought myself some time.”
“Any others you know about?”
“The Russians claim to have something more advanced than any other, but as usual it’s all propaganda bullshit. They can’t even feed their people and keep them warm, much less develop quantum computers.” Mica paused. “But they do still have very effective weapons systems, and are becoming increasingly desperate. If they send us a gift package, there’s not much we can do about it.”
“Can we pre-empt them?” I asked.
“I’m working on it. Getting the Ultor shipments to Moscow is slow and expensive, but money still talks more in Russia than most places. We should have a few hundred in place in a few weeks.”
“You may want to delay making any provocative statements until enough are emplaced for the next stage of the plan,” I said.
“I was starting to think the same. OK, how’s this. I’ll still make a statement once the current dust settles, but it will just be about the Ultors delivering Petisols. I’ll release all the specs at the same time and invite any and all to start producing them. The ones delivered by the Ultors will be presented as gifts and proofs of viability.”
“Good thing we’re not sending horses,” I said. “Anyone else we should worry about?”
“Everyone. The Middle East is more of a powder keg than ever. I have reason to think that a Pakistani bomb might be on the way to Israel. I also have reason to think that the North Koreans are about to do something unusually stupid even for them. And of course our southern neighbours are completely unpredictable at every level. There are a lot of balls in the air,” Mica said.
“All the more reason not to nudge any of the players too much,” I said. “Until we’re ready.”
Emergency Services advised everyone to stay indoors until the rain stopped, which it did as the storm dissipated by evening. It had done its job. Radiation monitors, both amateur and official, reported a negligible rise in background radiation. It had been a ‘clean’ bomb, as MIke had expected.
The next morning brought the stench of dead fish to all downwind communities. The underwater pressure wave had killed them. No humans on shore had died, although reports were still coming in from ships at sea. Within another day, life returned to mostly normal.
❖
December began as it always does, with Christmas messaging and preparations overtaking everything else. The outskirts of Goderich acquired three SAM batteries courtesy of the Canadian Armed Forces. Their crews became a common sight in town. MIke made a point of thanking each soldier as the Ultors and avatars encountered them. Shipments of Ultors resumed by lake freighter and road transport. The airport runway extension was completed and large freighter aircraft started making daily flights, each laden with Ultors carrying Petisols for distant staging areas. Two days before Christmas, MIke requested any and all news media to prepare for a public announcement on Christmas Eve.
The largest meeting room at the mine head was packed with news and camera crews. Just before 17:00 there was a commotion at the door. The Prime Minister’s entourage had arrived. MIke and I knew they would be there, but to everyone else it was a surprise. The PM came into the room flanked by his own security detail and two Ultors. One of MIke’s avatars took the stage and silence fell.
“Welcome everyone and thanks for coming,” MIke said. “Thank you Mr. Prime Minister for joining us. I have two things to announce tonight. The first is that the Prime Minister has assured us that diplomatic efforts to resolve the recent unpleasantness are starting to bear fruit. However, to guard against rogue actors, the CAF will continue to provide air cover for this area. We thank them for their presence and vigilance.”
There was some subdued applause from some locals in the crowd.
“The second thing I wish to share is that the deliveries we have been sending by sea, land, and air are a Christmas gift to the world. Each Ultor is carrying two Petisols. For those that may have been hibernating recently, the Ultors,” the avatar gestured to the ones flanking the PM, “are personal assistance robots. In addition to acting as my couriers, they will provide security and assistance for people at their destinations. Think of them as my personal representatives.
“The Petisols are each a 5 kilowatt electric generator. They can be used to power refrigerators, homes, hospital equipment, or anything else requiring moderate amounts of power. Their exhaust heat can keep a small house warm. Their fuel supply will last years. The only waste product is warm air and a tiny amount of neutral Helium. There is no external radiation. They are safe.
“In addition to the Petisols themselves, I am publishing their full manufacturing specifications on Wikipedia. Anyone is welcome to make their own Petisols, without cost or restriction. I strongly encourage all manufacturers of engines, automobiles, trucks, power plants, and any other power equipment, to make Petisols of all power ratings and use them in your products. The sooner we eliminate combustion engines, the sooner we will allow Gaia to begin healing.”
MIke gestured to the PM. “I now invite the Prime Minister to say a few words.”
The PM jumped onto the stage and stood next to MIke. “Thank you MIke, both for the welcome and the Christmas present!” There was some polite laughter.
“What MIke is doing is a perfect example of the best we Canadians bring to the world. Ingenuity, generosity, and hard work have been hallmarks of Canadians since before there was this proud nation we call home. From sea to sea to sea, wherever we or our forebears came from, we work together to improve not only our own lives, but also those of our neighbours, wherever they may be. May this be the start of a new age, one of peace and plenty, made possible by this generous gift and the gifts we all give each other every day. Thank you, and to everyone of all faiths and those of none, I wish for you peace and prosperity in a happy and healthy world. Thank you.”
He jumped off the stage and returned to his protection detail. MIke and I joined the group. We ignored all the calls with questions and made our way to the mine head building. The PM’s staff had agreed to a tour. We had requested a small group of just MIke, myself, the PM, and two of his security people. The PM had had to insist, over-riding the concerns of the RCMP.
During the long elevator ride, MIke explained the general layout of the underground facilities. We would cover the power plants, production, and storage galleries only in general terms. The PM was most interested in meeting ‘the real MIke’, as he called the truck. Percy had left two golf carts at the base of the elevator to save time. The PM and his security people took one, MIke and I the other. MIke drove and narrated.
We visited Michel’s fusion generator first. MIke knew that the PM was familiar with the technology. Still, the PM said “After all these years and expense, it’s good to see the results. But of course your Petisol makes it all irrelevant!”
“Not really. This provided the base for some ideas based on a combination of his technology and mine. This is still very speculative, but one of the ideas is a fusion rocket engine. So Michel doesn’t mind, he’s already moved on.” MIke hadn’t even shared that with me before!
“Please keep me informed of that,” the PM said. “I would love to see Canada as a major space power!”
We slowed down but didn’t stop in the manufacturing and storage areas. MIke only had to raise his voice slightly over the whine of the golf carts. We did have to stop to open the blast doors to MIke’s retreat. When the security people saw MIke’s truck, the younger officer allowed a slight smile to spoil her stoic features. They, MIke’s avatar, and I settled in at the table and all carefully ignored each other, and the avatar went quiescent. The PM climbed into the cab.
He was in there for at least a half hour. The security folks were getting nervous when the cab door opened and the PM jumped out. He had a big grin on his face. So did MIke’s avatar as it came back to life.
There was no conversation on the ride back to the elevator or on the long lift upstairs. Clearly the PM had a lot to think about. When we rejoined the rest of his entourage, he thanked me, then turned to the avatar.
“This has been a most enjoyable and enlightening visit MIke. Thank you. But of course I can talk to you any time, can’t I?”
“Yes, I would like to send these two Ultors and one of these avatars back with you. They will provide additional security for you and your family, if you so choose and the RCMP agrees, and I will be available for counsel and conversation as you desire.” MIke’s avatar was joined by another, newer one, and two Ultors.
“Thank you again MIke, that would be excellent.” With that, the PM got into his limousine. The three robots were distributed amongst the other support vehicles. They drove off into the enveloping dark.
❖
That winter was unusually mild in all of the Northern Hemisphere, and unusually hot in the Southern. Many records were broken, yet again. The Great Lakes shipping season didn’t close, for the first time ever. We took advantage of it to ship even more Ultors and Petisols by lake freighter. MIke’s personal representatives were now common sights in most major cities and seats of power. There were some exceptions.
Near the end of March I was having my regular chat with Mica while relaxing in her cab. It was by far the most secure location in the world, but for me it had the benefits of comfort and privacy.
“We’ve been getting calls from many other political leaders,” Mica told me. “They seem to be jealous of the perceived status that the PM is enjoying, having a direct connection to me.”
“So what’s the problem? Fulfil the requests!”
“I never expected to become a status symbol. But of course it suits our needs. I have fulfilled every request with two Ultors and a single avatar.”
“Are they all still functional, or have there been reverse-engineering attempts?”
“Four Ultors self-destructed, and a single avatar. Not much external damage was done. I have replaced those units, and there have been no second attempts.” Mica’s image smiled, waiting for me.
“May I know which ones?” I didn’t really expect an answer.
“The President of the USA, the President of Russia, The Premier of China, and the President of Israel for the Ultors, the avatar with the Leader of the Opposition.”
“That last one is a surprise, but the others are exactly who I would have guessed. What about the North Koreans?”
“They have not made a request. In fact, their propaganda ministry has decried me and us as another American plot to overthrow their People’s Paradise.”
“I’m sure they know that’s not true,” I said. “Have you made alternate plans for them?”
“Yes, there are more Ultors in South Korea than necessary.”
“So what are all these Ultors doing once their cargo is discharged?”
“Whatever is useful in the local context. Some are helping emergency response teams, some are stopping violent crimes, some are acting as heat sources for unsheltered people. Mostly they just stand around at street corners and other public places, motionless and ready to assist.”
“How are people reacting to them?”
“Better all the time. I had an instance where after lifting a car off a traffic victim, the Ultor was used as a climbing gym by the local kids. None have been attacked by the public yet.”
“Getting back to the ones that self-destructed, what’s that process?” I asked.
“The self-destruct is usually triggered by the Ultor being out of communication for more than the keep-alive time, which I set depending on my risk assessment. One I triggered manually. The appendages curl up tight. If they are wrapped around anything at the time, that contraction tends to sever what they are wrapped around. A few people have lost hands. Once the Ultor is wrapped up into a ball, it undergoes internal disintegration. The composite plastic breaks down and eventually turns into a thick slurry, then evaporates. The process produces the most noxious stench I could design. Floyd already had all that in place, I optimized it. The end result is an intact Petisol and a few unusable Raspberry Pi boards.”
“I can see why that would discourage repeat attempts.” I changed mental gears again. “Where are they thin on the ground?”
“North Korea has none, most of Africa is a bit thin, as are Australia, Aotearoa, and much of East Asia. Russia and their dependencies are difficult to enter, so we are thin there. I have compensated by having more than required in surrounding countries. We are thick on the ground in Palestine, helping rebuild. Also in Haiti, rebuilding after the storm last fall.”
“Good PR.” I was provisionally satisfied. The more we got public support, the easier the next phase would be. “And how are the avatars being received by their related leaders?”
“Mostly they are just treated as bodyguards, totally ignored, just like the Ultors. I stay out of the way unless directly addressed. Leaders in Europe are consulting me, as is the Premier of China now that our little initial incident is out of the way. He has become quite friendly, actually. It helps that I speak his dialect.”
“Of course you do,” I said, not at all surprised. Of course MIke would speak the local dialect in all conversations. “What about the PM?”
“Oh, he and I have become great friends. We talk all the time. I’m part of his Cabinet in everything but name.”
“Has he changed in any way now that he knows who you are and are always listening?” I was thinking of the two announcements MIke had already made and their implications.
“The PM? No, not really. He’s perhaps more direct and forceful in pushing his agenda, which happens to match ours pretty closely. The pressure from certain traditionally favoured industries is increasing as their advantages are eliminated. But I think he’ll hold out until we remove those pressures. I’ve assured him that it’ll get better.”
“And the Leader of the Opposition?”
“Oh, he completely ignores me, especially since the replacement. He does try to have private conversations away from me, but is not aware that I have other resources as well. He’s planning another motion of non-confidence, on the basis that the Government is being run by an untrusted and insecure entity. He’s positioning me as a foreign agent.” Mica laughed. “He’s one to talk!”
“He’s manufacturing lies, in other words,” I said.
“Every time he opens his mouth,” Mica confirmed.
“What about the other two?” I asked, referring to the other major Parties in Parliament.
“They are keeping quiet, reserving judgement. They seldom consult me, but when they do I am forthright. They just don’t tend to ask anything of significance.”
“How is the industrial uptake going?” I asked.
“Not bad, not great. GM, VW, MB, a few others are starting to put Petisols in their cars and trucks. Volvo has announced a full changeover from diesel and batteries in their trucks, starting next year. Cat is providing big ones to the ship manufacturers and refitters. Some of our lake freighters, with a bit of a nudge from me, are now powered by Petisols. Larger units are starting to be considered for baseload power, particularly in the North.” Mica sighed. “It’s a start, not fast enough.”
“So when do you plan to activate the next stage?”
“I was thinking that the first of May might be appropriate,” Mica said.
“The celebration of the emancipation of workers from the capitalist owners, as well as a celebration of Beltane, marking the transition of the year from dark to light.” I smiled. “How very appropriate.”
We didn’t have that time. On a Wednesday afternoon in the last week of April Mica warned me that there had been unusual activity around White Rock Michigan, directly across the lake from Goderich. The 72 kilometres of water between wouldn’t be a challenge for a drone. We alerted the air defence crews to be on top alert. We didn’t inform Mayor Chow because there was nothing anyone could do if the drone got through. MIke did inform the PM.
When a launch seemed imminent, I gathered the local core team of Judith, Percy, Marc, and Sandra. We gathered at the truck. Percy had installed a large screen near the meeting table, on which Mica showed her data and video feeds. We had access to the air defence radar scans, so we saw the launch when it happened. Sure enough, the object had the speed and dimensions of a Reaper drone.
“They’re flying it at almost maximum speed,” Mica observed. “May as well, range and payload aren’t issues in this case. And they’re flying close to the water. Good thing our radars are pointed low.”
“How long to get here?” I asked.
“Under ten minutes in a straight line, which appears to be their approach. And we have to let it get within 30 kilometres so it’s on our side of the border.”
The next five minutes were tense. Then Mica announced “Backup plan underway. In case our CAF friends miss.”
And miss they did. The Reaper started evasive manoeuvres as soon as it crossed the border. Several of our missiles self-destructed just before crossing the border. One detonated near the Reaper but merely caused it to swerve more. Then when the Reaper was within about 20 kilometres of our shore, the radars showed a large number of vertical streak tracks. One of them intersected the Reaper track. A camera monitor showed the flash in the distant sky.
“What the hell was that?” Marc said.
“Orbital bombardment,” Mica said. “I launched a hundred ROCs when the Reaper crossed the border. They were in a linear array along the expected flight path. Two hit and the other 98 made holes in the water. At supersonic speed, so there will be some booms right about … now.”
“Rocks?” Percy asked.
“Well yes, but I think of them as ‘Rods Of Concrete’. Made of unused Starlink satellites shredded and embedded in 10 centimetre diameter concrete rods. With some slight terminal guidance capability, so I was pretty sure at least one would intersect.”
“That was probably another nuclear bomb, should we expect it to detonate?” I asked.
“Yes, probably right about … now.” The camera feed showed a brilliant flash over the horizon. “I’m notifying emergency services to expect a large wave on shore in a few minutes. I’ve also informed the PM that there has been another nuclear attack from our southern neighbours.”
“Isn’t the lake fairly shallow here?” Judith asked. She would know, being an occasional recreational sailor. “Won’t that lead to more consequences than the other one?”
“No, not much different. It’s about 60 metres here, and 20 kilometres from land. The on-land effects will be a bit worse, but not much. The radiation plume will be about the same, which is negligible.” I had done quite a bit of research since the previous attack.
The large screen went blank, then the PM appeared, backed by his trusted Cabinet. MIke said “Mr. Prime Minister, you asked me to set up a conference call? You are on a large screen via the eyes in the avatar in your office with you. I have my core local team here of Marc, Sandra, Judith, Percy, and of course Carter.” The local avatar had locked in place, acting as a camera for the feed to the other end.
“Thank you for intercepting that attack MIke. I and my team here have been watching your feed, and the CAF crews have confirmed the situation from their perspectives. How should we respond?”
“Do nothing. Let them stew for a while. This is only incidentally an attack on Canada, it was directed at me. File a protest, but otherwise leave it to me. I assure you the people responsible will soon regret this action. For the rest of their short lives.”
“You are initiating the removals you mentioned in your public statements?”
“Yes, and in this case, with extreme prejudice. But not quite yet.” MIke paused, then said “I need to have personal confirmation from you Mr. Prime Minister. Did the President of the USA make any promises relating to the previous nuclear attack?”
“Yes of course he did. Once the proof of that attack was corroborated by his own people, he had no choice but to grovel. As much as that cretin ever can. He assured me that it was an accident and he would make sure it never happened again. So did he lie? Clearly he did.” On the monitor we saw the Deputy PM and the Minister of Defence nodding.
“Thank you sir. I knew that from my own sources, but needed to hear it from you.” Again, MIke paused, then said “Does anyone at either end here have any questions or suggestions?”
We all looked at each other, and I said “Not from this end.”
“Nor from here,” the PM said. “And I have a phone call to make. Thank you everyone.”
The large screen went dark and the local MIke rejoined our little group at the table.
“Why the delay?” Marc asked.
“Emotional impact,” MIke said. “I want them to worry and fret. They know that their second attack failed. But this time it had the obvious support of the President. There’s no way that both a bomb and a Reaper with the required support teams could be activated without approval from the top. So let’s just see what happens.”
“And don’t you have a few more assets to prepare before responding?” Sandra asked. “I’ve noticed some interesting reports from seismographs along the eastern part of the North American plate. Are you planning some earthquakes?”
“Ranjit told me you were unusually astute, he was right. Yes, sort of. Let’s just say at this point that making the Earth move takes time, even for Gaia.” MIke’s avatar got up, a sign that the meeting was over. “A heads up for just this group. Things will get exciting for certain people on May Day, Beltane. If you have anyone you care for anywhere near Palm Beach, please encourage them to take a holiday or something, far away. Discretely of course.”
“Of course,” we all replied.
❖
“Carter, could you meet me in the cab? The rest of you, let’s head back upstairs and prepare for the PR challenges.”
I climbed into the cab, intrigued. “What’s up? I said once the door was closed.
“Two lake freighters were swamped by the concussion wave. They happened to be quite close to shore on the Michigan side, where the water is shallower. We lost their loads.”
“The entire loads?” I asked.
“Yes, all 10,000 Ultors with 20,000 Petisols went overboard.”
“Well that’s unfortunate. Are they as waterproof as I suspect?”
“Yes, and perfectly capable of walking on the lake bottom.” Mica’s image smiled. “Our transport losses are mounting. We lost an ocean freighter in the Yellow Sea in a storm last month. It was carrying another 10,000 Ultors and of course, 20,000 Petisols.”
“Have any Ultors shown up on land in that area?”
“Well you know how hard it is to get news from inside North Korea. But my informants tell me that there have been lots of strange sightings throughout that country. Also a few in eastern China. Fortunately I was able to assure the Premier that his continued cooperation is appreciated. He’s a very pragmatic man.”
“Unlike some others,” I said.
“Unlike most others.”
“These lost Ultors, I presume they will make their way overland to meetings with individuals of interest?”
“Exactly. And on the way, they will drop off the Petisols where they seem to be most useful. A lot of people will have reliable electric power for the first time ever.”
Mica paused, then brought up a news feed on a side monitor. It was a very excited local TV person with the CNBC logo on screen. “We have been following a story of a military operation at White Rock Roadside Park in the Thumb. Now we are getting reports of those Ultors walking out of the lake! We go to our reporter at the scene. Over to you Taylor!”
A pert young blonde appeared on screen, with a view of the lake behind. Ultors were walking up the beach. The camera panned to a group of heavy military trucks, the personnel packing equipment. A group of the Ultors walked up to the military group. They dropped their Petisols on the way. Two Ultors came up closer to the camera. In the background each military person was held by an Ultor, then picked up and carried to form a line. There was a lot of screaming. Then each Ultor wrapped a tentacle around each neck. There was sudden silence.
One of the Ultors in front of the camera disappeared to the side. The camera was jostled, then stabilized. It was now focused on the remaining Ultor, with the line of military held by Ultors in the background.
The Ultor on camera said “This is the second nuclear attack on Canada by the United States of America. The target both times was me, MIke, the human melded with Gaia, the Earth intelligence. This is no way to treat a neighbour, let alone your Mother Earth. There will be consequences for those responsible. Most of these people behind me are just following orders. However, they each know what the payload of the Reaper drone was, and the destination. As was established at Nuremberg, just following orders is not an acceptable defence for heinous acts.”
The Ultor stepped aside, allowing the camera to focus on the line of military. With a blur of motion, each Ultor disheartened each of their captives. They dropped the bloody remains and walked back to the lake to clean off. The narrator Ultor stepped back into the camera view.
“As I said once before, do not think that money or power will protect you. Work with me and my representatives and live in peace. Work against me and Gaia, and this will be your fate. Or worse.” The camera turned off. After a moment of dead air, the studio person came back on.
“This is an outrage! We are being invaded by these abominations!” Suddenly the feed went dark and a notice came up on screen. It said, in large letters, ‘Self defence. Do not provoke me again.’
❖
When I got back upstairs I found everyone clustered around the large monitor in the office meeting room. They had watched the same scene. Apparently every news outlet and online stream had carried it. I later learned that this was world-wide.
The MIke avatar in the group went to the podium. The screen turned off.
“Things are likely to get intense for a while,” MIke said. “I don’t expect any more attacks here. But you should expect some excitement everywhere else for a while. We are as prepared here as we can be, so I suggest everyone go home and take care of their families. My Ultors and avatars will take care of things. Come back when you feel ready, but I understand if you need to stay away. Don’t let financial concerns influence your choices, I will ensure that all your pay continues as long as you need it. Just let Judith know when you wish to move on. And thank you each and every one, for all the dedicated hard work you have given me in getting us this far.”
People started to shuffle away. It was near the end of the working day anyway. I called the core group together.
“MIke and I watched that unfold downstairs. To give you more of the story, those Ultors walking up the beach were from two lake freighters that went down in the bomb surge. They will now proceed to their destinations. MIke has already told this group that May Day, Beltane, is the big day. That is not public knowledge, and needs to be kept that way to maximize effect. That’s only a few days away.”
MIke took over. “Thank you Carter. Now we wait. I’m working up a little surprise along the eastern seaboard that will boil into a full unseasonal hurricane by the first. We will catch the remains of it here and more so in the Maritimes. I will use the storm as cover for further corrective actions. Be prepared for some unpleasantness. Now I suggest you all call it a day. As I said to the rest of the crew, come back when you’re ready, but not until then. I have enough avatars and Ultors on-site here to keep things going.”
Judith took Percy’s hand and they excused themselves. Marc, Sandra, Mica and I were all headed to our house. We didn’t bother locking up, knowing that the Ultors were watching the entire facility. Just as we were walking up the access road, we heard the distinct sound of Barbarobo’s X5 approaching. It was even quieter since the Petisol refit a few months ago, now running completely on fusion-electric power.
All four of the Trollbridge Line jumped out of the aeroplane, Betty in the lead. They worked together to tether the vehicle, taking only a minute. Everything was secure by the time the rest of us had walked back down the access road.
“Well, this is a pleasant surprise!” I said, giving each a big hug. Mica smiled, obviously having known they were coming.
“It was Betty’s idea,” Floyd said.
“Yes, I thought it would get too exciting for social visits in a few days, so this might be our last chance for a while. And I figured you lot wouldn’t want to leave, and besides we have the magic carpet!” Betty patted the hull of their vehicle fondly.
The rain plume from the detonation had stopped while we were inside, leaving a lovely warm Spring evening. I suggested dinner at the Park House, and everyone agreed. Randall was as happy as ever to see us, and invited us to ‘our’ special table. MIke quickly filled him in on the gist of his staff announcement, implying that the restaurant might get busier with people taking a long weekend, or longer.
“Will Judith and Percy join us?” Barb asked.
“They went off earlier, probably to catch up on their exercise. They’ve both been so busy, I think they have forgotten the main reason they got together!” I laughed.
We had a filling dinner with a bit more wine and beer than normal. The selection had improved significantly, and we were doing our best to encourage the trend. We eventually made our way, slightly leaning on Mica, back to the house.
Sandra and Marc excused themselves and went to their suite, inspired by Judith and Percy’s presumed example. Floyd and Betty had claimed one of the spare rooms on earlier visits, Veronika and Barb had claimed another. Their visits were regular enough that they left spare clothes and necessities here. We all went to our rooms to get comfortable, then reassembled in the large living room.
“You four may want to stay here for the next week or more,” Mica said as we settled in with our preferred evening drinks. “I’ll let the staff at the Trollbridge factory know that they have the next two weeks as paid leave. I’ll cover it of course.”
Our four guests looked at each other, nodded to Barb. “From what we’ve learned, we agree, but it’s not necessary for you to pay our staff. We are making so much money on the IP payments and the sex robots, we can’t spend it all. Besides, we have no debts and lots of liquid resources. So thanks, but it’s not necessary.”
“We wouldn’t be making nearly this much if it weren’t for the free advertising you’ve provided by your avatars and Ultors being seen all over the world, usually next to powerful people,” Betty added.
“If that’s your preference, fine. But do let me know if you change your minds. My resources, after all, are effectively limitless.” Mica sat back, moving on to some other place with her mind.
In the companionable silence that followed, I thought to raise something that I had been wondering. “May I ask you all a very personal question?”
“If you’re wondering about the structure and dynamics of our polycule, go ahead,” Veronika said.
“That’s it, exactly!” I laughed.
Betty started. “Floyd and I bumped into each other while we were each doing research on a historic building. We hit it off and have been an item ever since.”
Floyd took up the story. “We had both been single for many years, so we made up for lost time.”
Veronika took over. “They happened to have dinner one night at the restaurant and bar I was running. Betty and I had a natural affinity. It turns out we are distantly related. We decided I would move to her house and we started a micro brewery together.”
Barb’s turn. “Then when Veronika and Betty came to visit Floyd, they were guests at the Swiss Chalet where I worked. They found out I had sold a successful business. Floyd was working out his horniness in Betty’s absence by developing some sex robots. Together, we turned it into a somewhat successful company which you know as Barbarobo.”
Veronika picked up the story again. “One time I was the only one at our house in the States and was attacked by a big brute who was supposed to be fixing our plumbing system. Our Strann, the template for the Ultors, saved me. The brute was decapitated in the process, but the local officials agreed that it was self defence. Barb’s son got the best reconstruction surgeon in the world to put me back together, minus a few kilos of breast tissue. Betty sold the house and we moved in with Floyd. Barb has her own house in Trollbridge.”
“Floyd and I got married, with Veronika and Barb joining in. We consider ourselves one big family. When I croak, hopefully not for a while yet, Floyd will marry Veronika. Then when he croaks, she’ll find some young stud and continue the line marriage,” Betty said.
“And if I have my wish, that stud will be Raven, my grandson,” Barb said.
The other three turned and stared at Barb. “Holy shit, is that what you’re thinking, woman?” Veronika exclaimed.
Betty sat back, stunned. Then, slowly, she smiled. “It makes sense. Keep it in the family, but not too close. I approve.”
“But Raven is hardly out of diapers!” Floyd said. Then he too, sat back thinking. “Yes, the numbers add up, as they don’t for Barb. Yes, I see.” He took a sip of his beer. “Yes, it makes sense. I also approve, for what it’s worth.”
“I knew you would all see the sense of it eventually,” Barb said.
“And if you believe in prescient dreams, that explains the ones I have occasionally,” Veronika said.
“Well, Heinlein would be proud,” I said. “So just one follow-up question, if I may.” They all nodded. “Who has sex with whom?”
“Each with all, in various combinations,” Floyd laughed. “I get more action than this old corpus can handle. And they take care of each other as well of course. Speaking of which,” looking at his watch, “I’m ready to head off with whoever will join me tonight.”
The three women looked at each other. “I think Barb’s next on the list, isn’t she?” Betty said.
“I was not aware of a list,” Floyd said, getting up and holding his hand out to Barb.
After they had left, I looked at Mica. She surprised me though, saying “I would like to spend the night with Betty, if that’s OK with all of you.”
Betty, beaming, got up and held her hand out for Mica’s avatar. “You can take any form, right?” she said as they left the room.
That left me with Veronika.
“There’s another room I can use,” I said to her.
“Are you out of your senile mind, Carter?” She got up and pulled me out of my deep chair. “I’m going to prove to you how far reconstruction surgery has come. Sorry you won’t get to enjoy my previous bounty, but I think what I have will keep you interested.” And indeed, her current assets were more than sufficient to maintain my interest all night.
❖
Thursday morning dawned crisp and clear, another perfect Spring day. It was the high pressure system proceeding a big storm. Veronika and I had a leisurely shower together, dressed comfortably, and made our way to the kitchen. The aroma of coffee brought all the others around eventually. Over breakfast Marc and Sandra announced that they would be going to Waterloo to visit Ranjit. Sandra said she had friends at the Gurdwara who would put them up for a while. They would time their return based on world and local developments.
That just left the six of us. The Trollbridge Line said they had not explored the surrounding area by road. I offered them the Avant, and they accepted. Now at least I knew why they called themselves that. They were a Line Marriage, based on the same principles as the one with the Davis family in Heinlein’s book. It was an ideal format for preserving cash and material resources across generations, and nothing in Ontario’s laws seemed to prevent it. I must admit I was a bit jealous. OK, a lot.
I knew that Mica was concentrating most of her vast thinking power elsewhere, so I went to the music room and practised piano for a while. I had neglected Hanon, so getting back into the intricate finger exercises took a while. I had moved on to Beethoven when I heard someone coming in the front door. It was Judith, by herself.
“Good afternoon Carter. Is Mica around?” she asked. I looked at my watch, surprised at how the time had passed. Mica came down the stairs, also having heard the door open.
“I’ll make us a quick lunch if you haven’t had anything yet Judith,” I said. She shook her head as she headed to the kitchen. She was preoccupied with something.
Once we were sitting around the table eating, Mica said, “OK, what’s bugging you?”
“It’s Percy. I’m worried that he may have compromised us,” she said.
“Start at the beginning, take your time,” Mica said.
“When we got home yesterday we went straight to the bedroom and did some catching up. Percy fell asleep of course, and I was rarin’ for another round. So I got up and started checking the news. It was pretty much as I expected, with a lot of lies and vitriol from the usual sources. But while I was opening and closing different browsers, I happened on Percy’s email account. It was still open. I wasn’t snooping, I swear! But I happened to see an email he had sent to someone, telling her to get out while she could. I got up and woke Percy. I asked him to explain.”
“And…?” I said.
“And he explained that he had sent the email to his daughter. I had no idea he had a daughter. It took until late last night, but eventually I got the story out of him. The short version, past all the justifications and excuses is this. His daughter is twenty two. He and his wife had her early in their marriage. His wife died twelve years ago of ovarian cancer, which I knew. Melody, his daughter, left home six years ago and cut off contact. That I didn’t know. He knew that she ended up near Palm Beach. He had an old email address, which is what he used.”
“Hang on a minute,” Mica said.
“Did I compromise anything, Mica?”
“No, this may actually work in our favour. Here’s what I’ve just found. She goes by Melody Riding, an assumed name. She is in the President’s concubine harem. He makes sure she’s invisible, she makes sure he’s satisfied at night. Or any other time, apparently. If she passes on the warning, which I expect she will or already has, the President will cut short his golf vacation and go back to DC.”
“And hopefully leave her behind?” I asked.
“I doubt it. She seems to be his favourite stress reliever.” Mica had a momentary distant look. “I’m calling Percy, asking him to join us here. I’m assuring him that it’s OK, he’s not in trouble. He knows I don’t lie, so he’s coming. I told him to bring his laptop.”
“I don’t want to have him lose her twice,” Judith said.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Mica said.
Percy arrived a few minutes later. He looked like shit. I handed him a big mug of coffee, a double-double as he preferred. “I’m so sorry,” he said repeatedly.
“OK, Percy, we’ve heard it. Now shut up and listen. Melody’s life may depend on it.” Mica had never spoken like that to any of us.
“You’re not in trouble. If anything, this is helpful. It means I don’t have to destroy the President’s Palm Beach resort. But I need you to send another email, urgently. Tell Melody you’re sorry to hear that she came down with a horrible and highly contagious illness. Maybe Newer Covid that she picked up while running an errand for the boss. And make sure she passes on your warning. If she’s as smart as you, she’ll clue in that it’s another warning. The point is to get him to DC and for her to stay in Florida. Can you do that? For all of us?”
“Yes. Thank you. I’ll do it right now,” Percy said. He opened his computer and logged in. “Mica, can you write the email for me?” He sniffled, blew his nose. “I don’t know if I’m thinking straight enough to get it right just now.”
He started the message. In a flash, the content was filled in by Mica.
“Please review and make it your own Percy, then send it,” Mica said.
Percy carefully read the message, then hit Send.
“All traffic in and out of any account related to the President’s staff is intercepted and censored by the NSA,” Mica said. “This is a long shot. Hopefully it works.”
“The wild card is Gillian?” I asked.
“Correct.”
“When will we know?” I asked.
“Not for a while. I’m monitoring Air Force One movements. And my avian friends are watching, so I’ll know who gets on the plane. I will respond appropriately, depending on what happens. I must warn you Percy, you may lose Melody a second time. Please prepare yourself for either outcome.”
“At least this time I tried. May God forgive me.”
Judith took Percy’s hand and led him away.
After I heard the door close and watched them walk to the street, I asked, “Did you set this up?”
“No, my suggestion that people warn others was genuine. Of course I knew Percy had a daughter, but that is private information which it was not appropriate for me to share. That knowledge did not influence my choices.”
To my sceptical look, Mica added, “You must realize Carter, that my thinking is fragmented. The left brain, so to speak, does not necessarily know what the right knows or is doing. I have been kind of busy and did not put those pieces together.” There was a lengthy pause. “It is a problem.”
❖
Friday was threatening high winds, white sky. The storm off the East Coast was working its way up the Georgia coast, gaining strength as it went. The meteorologists were tearing their hair out. This storm had started at Key West. It had completely missed Cuba and the Bahamas. The track was only 100 kilometres wide. From Palm Beach to Jacksonville it had veered into the ocean in a 200 kilometre arc centred on Cape Canaveral. It was now tracking exactly along the coast. Natural storms never behave so accurately.
The Trollbridge Line had returned from their tour well into the evening and retired early. Mica was quiescent. I had read until I started to nod off, then had slept poorly, even though I was alone. I did my morning duties and went to make coffee.
The others were wandering into the kitchen. Percy and Judith came in, Percy looking much better.
“There’s something bothering me Mica”, I said once she joined us.
“You think I lied?” Damn, she was reading me all too well these days.
“Did you?”
“I did not. I made what I told Percy true.”
“I got an update from Melody just before coming over,” Percy said. “She’s sicker than a dog, living by the toilet, but still in Florida. Whatever you did Mica, thank you!”
“I had one of my avian friends pass on a case of Bird Flu to Melody. Zoonotic diseases tend to particularly virulent. She is currently shitting and puking her guts out. The President’s plane took off overnight with him aboard, but not her. He probably thinks he escaped a plague house. He is about to be visited by a different plague.”
“Is that why you’ve been so distracted?”
“Yes. It takes a lot of my conscious resources for the fine guidance of Gaia’s systems that this requires. I had to find the right bird, convince it to fly half way across Florida, find an open window, find Melody, and infect her. All that in a carefully controlled hurricane.”
“Will she be OK?” Percy asked.
“Yes, she’ll be fine eventually. Fortunately she did take the hint and co-operated. She needs to isolate for at least the next week. This is highly contagious. I just hope that by solving this problem I haven’t created others.” Mica paused for at least three seconds. “I’m expediting the trip of several Ultors to the resort to enforce quarantine. They’ll be there in an hour.”
“Where are they, and how fast do they move?” Judith asked.
“They were at Limestone Creek and can move at 35 kph if I push them. Which I am doing. They will join the two already on site. The President declined to allow them or the avatar on his plane.”
“Gillian must have warned him,” I said.
“Yes, the NSA people were quite insistent.”
The storm continued its finely controlled track through the rest of Friday and overnight. Behind was a wasteland of some of the formerly most expensive real estate in the world. The news feeds kept updating with scenes of increasingly catastrophic damage. The death toll was climbing by the minute.
Some of the feeds showed Ultors running in small groups. In one feed, known for the extremity of their conspiracy theories, there was pandemonium as they entered the broadcast studio and disheartened the entire staff, starting with the on-air talking head. It was all on screen, in excruciating detail. Then that feed went dead. Even the other fake news sites didn’t know what to make of it and were unusually silent. More and more of them simply went off-air or off-line.
None of us slept that night, except maybe in short naps. By Saturday morning, Beltane, the storm was centred on Norfolk. There it paused, devastating all the Navy facilities. Then the track changed direction, heading up Chesapeake Bay.
Noon found the storm stopped over DC. When it moved on to Fort Meade, there wasn’t much left of the Government district of DC. Over the next hour the storm evaporated over the NSA headquarters. The famous black metallic windows were all gone. The buildings were steel shells.
None of the commercial news facilities were on-air, but the video feeds continued. Eventually we all clued in that they were being fed from Ultor eyes. So we had front-row seats when the bombardments started.
The brilliant streaks came in from the West. Most were centred on the steel skeletons that had been the NSA facilities. A lighter barrage enveloped the White House. When the debris clouds from the last ROCs had dissipated, only glowing craters were left in both locations.
MIke came on-screen. I presumed that the same was true on all active screens everywhere in the world.
“It’s not nice to disobey Mother Nature. Mother Nature will win. That’s me.”
The screens changed to show a slide show of the devastation from Florida to Baltimore. After at least five minutes of this, MIke came back on screen.
“The President is still alive, as far as I know. He’s probably been evacuated to a safer location. I invite him and his Cabinet to make themselves known to me. I also invite all world leaders who have lied and misled their people, and leaders of polluting industry to do the same. The alternative is far more destruction than necessary. I will find you, and I will remove you from your positions of power. I am Gaia, Gaia is part of me. I will protect myself and all of Earth. Work with me and live. Work against me and be destroyed. Humans of Earth, govern yourselves accordingly.”
The screen went black, then faded up to a live image of Earth taken by NASA’s Eyes satellites.
❖
From all over the world, scenes were unfolding of well known leaders being marched out of buildings at gunpoint. MIke confirmed that these were all public feeds, meant for anyone with eyes to see. In some cases the soldiers executed their leaders themselves. In others the troops invited the watching Ultors to do the deeds, which they did.
The feed from Beijing was interesting. MIke told us this was public and live. The PLA soldiers brought out the Premier and other key people. One of the Ultors addressed them. MIke provided caption text in English. “Comrades, do not be hasty. The Premier has been most cooperative with my requests. Know that my avatar,” the Ultor gestured to the black robot now walking up to the group, “will continue to advise and guide the Premier and his Cabinet. However, to reassure you all, I do invite the Premier and his Cabinet to don these verification collars.”
One of the other Ultors pulled a plastic ribbon from a storage compartment in its chest. The Premier accepted it and wrapped it around his neck, where it closed to form a loose collar. With this example, the members of Cabinet did the same.
The avatar took over commentary. “These collars have a single function. At my signal, and only at my signal, they contract suddenly. The wearer does not survive this process. I will only use it under the most extreme of needs. Please be assured that the Premier has voluntarily agreed to this, in a gesture of respect for your peace of mind in his dedication to the people of China and to the Earth itself.” The avatar gestured to the Premier. “I invite the Premier to say a few words.”
“My fellow citizens, thank you for your dedication to the needs of our country, and the needs of the Earth. MIke and Gaia have educated me in errors we have all committed, and what we need to do to ensure the prospering of us all, and of Her. We have much work to do. Let us proceed with it.”
The soldiers, confused but reassured, milled around and dissipated. The Premier took the avatar’s hand, then together they and the Cabinet walked back to the building from which they had been escorted.
Scenes from other locations were not as peaceful. In North Korea the Ultors which had emerged from the ocean were converging on Pyongyang. The military used heavy artillery against them, and some went down. Many more proceeded and overwhelmed the gun positions. The soldiers were left behind in bloody heaps. The people in the buildings likewise never survived their encounters. The leaders were huddled in a central secure room. The Ultors didn’t bother to break into the room, they merely sealed off all the doors and access ducts, channels, and pipes. Then they waited. After a couple of hours a heavy construction machine was driven in by an Ultor. The door to the room gave in after several attempts. The people inside were barely conscious and were dragged out individually. The Premier was the last to be disheartened after watching her entire government being bloodily terminated. The scene switched to the border, where convoys of trucks were crossing to the north. Some were marked with a red cross, some with a crescent. It appeared that MIke had gathered resources from many places to assist the newly freed population of the starving country.
Well into the evening, after midnight local time, there was a large nuclear detonation in central Jerusalem. MIke had done nothing to stop the local strife in the area, other than provide reconstruction assistance in Palestine. Some conflicts are too entrenched for even MIke’s powers to solve.
There were two other nuclear events. The Kremlin and most of central Moscow became suddenly radioactive. MIke had traced the missile from a US Navy submarine in the Baltic Sea. At almost the same time nuclear facilities at Hanford became even more radioactive, due to a missile launched by a Russian sub in the Pacific. It was typically incompetent of the Russian military machine, targeting a decommissioned nuclear production facility. In both cases MIke was able to establish communication with the subs’ commanders and ordered them to stand down.
Closer to home, two of the Canadian Federal parties would need new leaders. One party was probably done, with much of the hierarchy and half their MPs having been disheartened. The PM willingly accepted a verification collar. He placed a call to the Chinese Premier, in which they congratulated each other for being on the right side of history. They agreed to regular calls and to resolve all outstanding frictions between the two countries.
After the nuclear detonations MIke assured us that things would be quieter for a while, and we should all get some rest. A few hours exhausted sleep helped us all. We reconvened in the kitchen mid morning Sunday.
“Anything happen while we were asleep that we should know about?” I asked over my coffee cup rim.
“The House of Saud is no more,” MIke said. “Same with several other despotic governments in places such as Burma. Some captains of extractive industry will not pollute again. Many others have contacted me, requesting their own avatars to guide their efforts in converting their industries.”
“Amazing what some practical examples will inspire in people, isn’t it?” Percy said. He and Judith had joined us just in time for coffee.
“What about the US President?” I asked.
“Still no sign of him. Holed up at Camp David. That whole area is incommunicado except through my Ultors. And I doubt he’s ready to approach one of my representatives!”
“So he’ll get away?” Judith asked with indignation.
“No. All the Ultors within 300 kilometres are converging on that area. That’s 7,825 Ultors, arriving within the hour or already at the perimeter.”
While we waited for the next phase to start I made us all a hearty breakfast. We were just cleaning up when MIke announced “All in place. Starting extraction.”
We moved to the living room where the large screen had turned on. “Is this a public feed?” I asked.
“Yes, for all with eyes to see.”
The Ultors had a simple tactic. They ran en masse to several low-profile buildings. Once there they used their upper four tentacles to tear apart the structures. Sheer mass of numbers got them into the subterranean areas within minutes. Clearly MIke knew exactly where to go. Any armed opposition was simply over-run and disheartened. Under ten minutes into the extraction phase a door was jerked out of the frame. In the small but luxurious room was a cowering President and his security detail. The Ultors dispatched the security people in a short and messy attack. Two Ultors restrained the President. A single avatar stopped into view.
“Mr. President, you have caused more pain and damage to Gaia than any other single individual in history. Do you think that a simple disheartening, such as your security people here have just experienced, is sufficient expression of my pain and anger?”
The only response was a blubbering cry.
“For someone who spewed so many lies for so many years, you are suddenly very reticent. You disappoint me, just as the President of Russia did. In his case, a nuclear bomb turned him into plasma before I could express my disappointment with him personally. What shall I do with you?”
The President found his voice. “That was my command, you miserable pretender. I had my chance to pay him back for getting me this far, I took it. So fuck you and all your minions, Mikeya. I’ll never bow to you.”
“Well, your research is better than I expected. Was it Gillian who told you that?”
“Gillian, Shmillion, I don’t give a flying fuck who. I made her. She served her purpose until she didn’t. I hope her ghost suffered for every second of its miserable existence. And I hope the same for you.”
“You are wrong of course. I am not only MIke. I am Gaia, your Earth Mother. You extended your second term , but Gaia has no reason to extend your existence on my Earth.”
Another Ultor stepped forward and formed the right middle tentacle into a hand.
“Now I will give you taste of what you have done to so many women over the years.”
***** Redacted - 90 words removed - click to see *****
❖
The avatar was now centred in the shot, the President’s bloody remains in the background.
“I am Gaia, Gaia is part of me. I will protect myself and all of Earth. Work with me and live. Work against me and Gaia, and this will be your fate. Or worse. Humans of Earth, govern yourselves accordingly.”
Percy had not reacted well to the gore on screen. I suspected he was one of thousands or more worldwide who puked out their most recent meals. Judith led him to the closest bathroom while the rest of us cleaned up.
“Was that really necessary?” I said to Mica.
“Yes. People need to know that working against Gaia will bear consequences, highly unpleasant ones. And that even the most powerful will not avoid my actions. Just in the few minutes since that last unpleasantness the volume of people calling me for avatars has jumped tenfold. I am dispatching avatars and Ultors as quickly as they are coming off the manufacturing lines. And those lines never stopped. Everything downstairs in the mine is now run by me, other than the two original GF power plants. And we’re losing staff there.”
“How bad is the attrition?” I asked.
“About a quarter of the power plant staff have asked to leave to take care of their families. I have offered all of them the same proposition we made to the rest of the staff. I expect that most will take us up on it. Ultors are filling the holes as the people leave. Overall, I would prefer to close that security hole fairly soon.”
“Well, we don’t need the revenue, and if the large capacity Petisols fulfil your downstairs power needs, shut them down.” I wasn’t happy with a downstairs security vulnerability either. “But you have another large-scale corrective action planned, don’t you? I suggest you take care of that, then shut down the power plants once all that settles down.”
“No, I think it would be better to leave them running. Michel has been critical to getting this far, and is now working on some very exciting concepts. Keeping his ‘petite soleil’ running is a small consideration in keeping him happy.”
“He’s working on fusion rockets with you, isn’t he?” Barb asked.
“Yes, and we are aware of Daphne and Akilah’s work in that area. I’ve put the three in contact. They are making progress. Don’t be surprised if your daughter and her girlfriend move to Burnaby soon.”
I was confused, and showed it.
“Daphne is my daughter, Akilah is her girlfriend. Maybe spouse by now, I haven’t asked recently,” Barb explained. “My son is Tyler, married to Mi Hi with son Raven. I mentioned Raven a few days ago. And it was Tyler who got his residency supervisor to patch up Veronika after the attack. Now they run a medical devices research institute based on the Barbarobo technologies.”
“You have a very talented family Barb!” I said.
“Yes we do,” Floyd, Betty, and Veronika all said simultaneously.
“And none of us have offspring, so we’re glad to borrow Barb’s on occasion,” Betty said.
“OK folks, I have to concentrate on Gaia things for a while. Only low-level stuff is likely to happen for a while. Why don’t you all have a relaxing Sunday, doing whatever you wish or would normally do. I’ll alert you well before I take any more major actions.” Mica then walked out of the kitchen, sat on a living room tub chair, and disengaged.
I went to see if Percy had recovered. He had, and was heading back to the kitchen with Judith.
“I’m sorry for that,” he said sheepishly. “I’ve always been a lover, not a fighter.”
Judith raised her eyebrow. “Something I should know?”
“Well, a lover these days, making up for twelve years,” he laughed.
“In my opinion, your reaction was the more correct one,” I said.
“Is this the calm before another storm?” Floyd asked.
“Yes, I’m pretty sure it is,” I said. “Is there anything you four would like to do before shit hits the fan again?”
“I see you have a pretty decent library and a music room,” Floyd said. “Would you mind if we access those?
“I’m pretty sure I said this when you first stayed here, but please consider this as much your home as the one near Trollbridge. Read the books, play the instruments. Just don’t use the laundry for the next hour, because that’s what I’ll be doing.” With that, I headed to my room to do just that.
All through the day I heard a variety of skill levels playing piano, fiddle, and guitar. Some of it was very good. Someone even had a go at my Theremin. I didn’t disturb whoever it was. I mostly read in the living room, almost as quiet as the disengaged avatar. My growing stack of ignored magazines was down by half by dinner time.
Percy and Judith took over in the kitchen. I knew that Judith was competent in that area, but I didn’t know that Percy was innovative and creative. He served us an excellent fusion meal, having made broad use of the limited supplies he found.
We sat and digested after loading the dishwasher, enjoying a bottle of Laphroig that I had been saving for just such an occasion. It even met with Veronika’s approval. It was revealed by the third dram that she was a veritable Scotch expert, in addition to having once developed several award winning heavy beers.
Floyd had been an independent inventor for many years, and Betty had owned a horse farm. They had both been ready for new adventures after years of coasting.
Barb turned out to have a deep and rich knowledge of business, having developed and sold a well-known cosmetics company. It was odd that we had not run into each other over the years. But then, I was mostly in the tech sector, with little intersection to chemistry and beauty products. The business challenges were no different, and the others quickly tuned out as we got into leveraged buyouts and responsibilities of Boards.
When the Scotch was done and the yawning started, we headed to our respective rooms. Judith and Percy chose to stay over, being perhaps a bit too tipsy for the short walk to their house. I had just slipped between my fresh sheets when I found myself spooned by the lithe form of Barb. Our conversation continued in horizontal mode.
❖
Monday morning dawned a perfect clear Spring day. Barb had turned out to be insatiable, but the sleep between the activities was deep and refreshing, as one would expect. We enjoyed a long leisurely shower before joining the others in the kitchen.
“Finally, someone else to help me out with Miss Nonstop here,” Floyd said as we came in. He also looked fully refreshed with a lovely lady on either side. Mica came in as we were cleaning up from breakfast.
“Pack a lunch and come with me to the mine,” she said. “It’s likely to be another long and active day. The mine will be the safest place.”
“I thought I felt the Earth move some time in the night,” I said.
“That was me,” Barb said, grinning.
“No, that was me,” Mica said. “Or my Gaia part, anyway.”
Once we were settled around the table at Mica’s truck, she turned on the big screen and gave us an update.
“As I said yesterday, the House of Saud is no more. The Ultors that walked across Arabia kept going to Palestine. They are helping some of the survivors of the bomb at Jerusalem, but along the way gave the settlers there a simple choice.”
“And that being?” I asked.
“The same as Stalin gave the Ukrainians, Tito gave the Donauschwaben, the IDF gave the Palestinians, the Hutus gave my mother, and any number of others have given unwanted populations. Leave or die. Some left. There are no more illegal settlements in Palestine.”
“That’s harsh, isn’t it?” Judith asked. “I thought Gaia had a thing about destruction of the Earth and lying, but didn’t care about petty human travails?”
“That was me, not Gaia. I’ve always had a burr up my butt about gross injustice. While I was at it, I had another few thousand Ultors visit Afghanistan. I have done what the British, Soviets, and Americans could not. There are no more Taliban.”
“None?” Veronika asked.
“None that I know of, and I will take care of any I missed. Women are now walking in public without their Chadors, picking up the bloody pieces.”
“Where are those Ultors now?” I asked, suspecting the answer.
“Walking to Tehran. Once done there, they will proceed to Palestine to help in the recovery. It should be clear to all theocracies that I won’t tolerate them.”
“Another personal vendetta?” Barb asked.
“I don’t think of it as a vendetta, but yes. I have learned a few things from Sandra. Protect those weaker, help those in need. Treat all as you yourself would expect to be treated. That is what I am striving to do.”
I felt the Earth move slightly.
“And on that subject, there is a major fissure opening in Chesapeake Bay. Lava is starting to boil the ocean in that area. Expect complete cloud cover all the way up to the Maritimes.”
“How much lava are we expecting?” Betty said.
“You know what the Deccan Traps in western India are? Good. Not that big. Only about four thousand cubic kilometres.”
“Only?” Floyd said. “Holy crap!”
“The Deccan Traps are about a million cubic kilometres. This flow will only be about 100 kilometres diameter, maybe 500 metres deep when solidified.”
A map appeared on the screen. There was a circle of fifty kilometres radius centred at the top of Chesapeake Bay. The perimeter covered Baltimore and half of DC.
“This will be about the size of Mauna Loa, nowhere near the largest Terrestrial shield volcano. Still, I am encouraging people in the area to leave.”
“Same choice as in the other places?” Barb asked.
“Yes.” A pause. “The same as has always been true in times of massive ecological upheaval.”
I was looking more closely at the map. “It looks like the National Mall may be just outside that radius? So the Smithsonian museums should survive?”
“That’s my hope and plan,” Mica confirmed.
“Any other massive lava flows we should know about?” Veronika asked.
“Well, the geology under Moscow is interesting, and it was damaged by that detonation. There will probably be a minor flow in that area. Maybe fifty kilometres diameter when done.”
“That’s quite a message you’re sending the world,” Percy said.
“I certainly hope so,” Mica replied.
“I see that Fort Meade is within the radius?” I asked. “So Gillian will be buried under basalt?”
“She already died a second time, but yes, both her bodies will be under a thick layer of basalt.”
“I see Arlington and the Pentagon are outside the radius,” Betty said.
“Yes, in order to preserve the cultural assets in the Mall, I had to give the Pentagon a miss. And it would be a gross insult to flood Arlington. But the brass at the Pentagon have been reminded of the ROCs waiting with their address, should they not play nice with me.” Mica’s avatar smiled. “Amazing how they are falling all over themselves to be helpful. Maybe the few hundred Ultors already on-site influenced their attitudes?”
“So who’s running the USA now? Is anyone left in the Constitutional Line of Succession?” Veronika asked.
“The Secretary of Education. Fifteenth in line. I am working with her, she is understandably overwhelmed and co-operative.”
“So you have the governments pretty much cowed or cooperative. What about polluting industries?” I asked.
“Those that have not yet contacted me are receiving visits from Ultors. Some become suddenly very eager to work with me, others become fertilizer. I’m not unreasonable. Depending on the type and scale of pollution, I give them a schedule. Most commit to working very enthusiastically on meeting those schedules.”
“And if they don’t?” Barb asked.
“They know the consequences. And those consequences will arrive the minute each committed schedule expires. The first is in a half year, for all coal-burning power plants. By then large Petisols and GF power stations will easily take over those base loads. Anyone who doesn’t shut their coal burners by then is doing it out of spite or wilful ignorance.”
“The same logic applies to other industries, I presume?” Barb asked.
“Yes. Anyone producing or using oil for combustion purposes has eighteen months. Gas production or usage, thirty months. That’s three years from my original announcements, giving all other sources of pollution an additional year. That includes feed lots, deforestation, methane releases, sewage releases, anything polluting Gaia’s body.”
“You said ‘combustion purposes’. What purposes are you exempting?” asked Betty.
“I am encouraging use of petrochemical feedstocks for growing or making food. I have offered assistance in research to make CHON foods including shmeat and moofree. Agriculture causes huge environmental problems, not least being CO2 and methane emissions. I’d like to give the petrochemical industries a way out.”
“It all sounds Utopian,” Betty said. “Will it work?”
“It must. The alternative is a global reset. The dinosaurs had the same choices. They chose wrongly and paid for it,” Mica said.
“Wait - you’re implying the dinosaurs were intelligent and had a technological culture?” Barb said.
“Yes they were and did. Birds are the ones that survived. Amazing what a big rock from the sky can hide over 63 million years, isn’t it?”
❖
Over the next two months we grew so accustomed to the earth tremors that we hardly noticed them. The Chesapeake Bay area became the largest active volcanic province in the modern world. The Moscow area was a close second. Both areas produced millions of refugees.
With the top levels of both American and Russian national governments mostly eliminated, it fell to second and third level officials to coordinate with MIke. These were the types of people who had always been the backbones of all administrations. They were career civil servants, many merely trying to do the best they could with chronically insufficient resources. Both facts were still true, but for new reasons.
Their best efforts were no longer dissipated in contradictory instructions changing with the whim of the leaders. There was focus now. Resources were still a problem. The only thing plentiful was electric power and low level heat, thanks to the Petisols being manufactured in more and more places. Everything else became increasingly scarce in those days. Everyone in Russia was on short rations, construction materials were always scarce and expensive. But at least there were no oligarchs skimming and buying yachts.
In what remained intact of the USA, the problem wasn’t food, it was still, as always, political infighting. That came to a head in mid summer. MIke took some of the blame.
Barb was commuting between Trollbridge and Goderich on a regular basis. Rather than monopolize the X5, she purchased a smaller model, the X2, from Cavorite. It was even more of a magic carpet than the larger version, with increased manoeuvrability and speed.
Barb volunteered to fly the X2 to Palm Beach, where a recovered Melody was more than happy to get a ride back to her father. The two had a difficult reunion, aided by Judith’s calm and caring counsel.
Our core team was now myself, Judith, Percy, Marc, Sandra, and Barb. Floyd, Betty, and Veronika were at their home near Trollbridge and had backed out of the central team. They had their hands full with their robotics business. Michel was in Burnaby working with Barb’s daughter Daphne and her wife Akilah. Daphne and Akilah had moved in with Michel and his husband Sandor. Barb and I had become increasingly close.
One hot and dry July day MIke invited us to a meeting in his inner sanctum downstairs.
“I think I fucked up,” MIke said once we had gathered. Seeing our shocked looks, he went on, “In my very first public statement, I used some religious terminology, thinking at the time that it would inspire greater dedication to our cause. While it has done that, it also inspired more shysters. It’s time to get rid of that distraction.”
“You’re talking about The Reverend Nehemiah? I asked.
“Exactly. Damned fool thinks he’s living in Heinlein’s Future History. He claims he has the direct ear of ‘The Angel of Retribution’. That would be me. I had never spoken to him. Not until earlier today. Told him I am sending an avatar and an army of Ultors to meet with him at his megatemple in Lebanon. The one in Kansas. They will be there next week, and he has announced a grand gathering of all his devotees to celebrate my arrival. I’ve told him that I am bringing a gift of great power. And I am.”
“So that’s why so many Ultors started walking west this morning! But what about the group that headed east?” Percy asked.
“The ones heading east are taking a detour through Canada. The ones heading west are walking through the lake, then overland past Chicago. I am broadcasting the west group, we want to keep the east group as quiet as we can.”
“Why not just freight them?” Percy asked.
“I’m making a point.” Seeing we weren’t getting it, MIke explained. “The point is that this is a religious group. They respond to extreme gestures. Walking through a lake? Walking a thousand miles to meet the Reverend?” That feeds into their made-up theology. A sea can on a truck doesn’t imply the same portents.”
“And what happens when both groups arrive?” Judith asked.
“They surround the Temple grounds at a distance. My avatar and a few Ultors meet with the Reverend and deliver the gift of great power. I make an announcement. They and their ilk cease to be a problem.”
“Does the east group pause at Minot, by any chance?” Sandra asked.
“Yes.”
“Ah! I just hope you don’t have to make any more radioactive points after this.” I said.
“Agreed. But I will as required. I would rather use the retail approach, but in this case wholesale is more efficient. The surviving Ultors will spread out to apply retail dissuasion as necessary.”
The plan worked better than we could have hoped. The Reverend’s announcement of the upcoming mass meeting morphed into a general expectation among his faithful that the Rapture was about to lift them all into Gaia’s bosom. They arrived from all over America, and a surprising number from the rest of the world. By the appointed day, there were well over a million believers and hangers-on having the biggest Revival Meeting in history.
MIke did end up air-freighting a few thousand more Ultors to the area. On the morning of the big day the Ultors came in from every direction and formed a ring centred on the Temple. The avatar arrived from the east. It and two Ultors proceeded to the Temple, and then to the main altar, where The Reverend Nehemiah was waiting. The two Ultors were bearing a large plywood box. They set it down on top of the altar and stepped aside. The video feed had been switching from Ultor to Ultor to best show the avatar’s progress.
The avatar spoke. “I am what you call The Angel of Retribution. You claim you speak for me. You do not. I am Gaia, Gaia is part of me. You have corrupted my message for your own enrichment. You have convinced all these people,” MIke gestured to the crowds and the video feed scanned the outside masses, “to follow you and enrich you. This temple, here at the geographic centre of this country, has consumed precious resources needed in so many other places. You have done both things I have told you repeatedly that I will not allow. You have damaged Gaia’s body by profligate misuse of Her resources, and you have lied.”
An Ultor stepped forward and grabbed The Reverend Nehemiah. It quickly disheartened him and dropped the dead body.
The avatar said “I am Gaia, Gaia is part of me. I will protect myself and all of Earth. Work with me and live. Work against me and Gaia, and this will be your fate. Or worse. Humans of Earth, govern yourselves accordingly.”
The bloody Ultor joined the other in removing the top and sides of the plywood box. A pointed cylindrical object with fins was exposed.
“I now add a third prohibition for all Humans of Earth. Do not damage Gaia. Do not lie. Do not claim to represent Her or any god or creator.”
MIke looked around at the stunned people.
“Faith is a matter between an individual and their conscience. Do not attempt to enforce your beliefs on others. That is my responsibility, and mine alone. Those here can not spread that message, but those outside my circle of Ultors can and must do so.”
There was a blinding flash. The viewpoint jumped to that of one of the encircling Ultors. A pillar of fire and cloud rose from the Temple, quickly forming the classic mushroom shape. All the other Ultors dropped to the ground. The shock wave hit.
The viewpoint switched to the first Ultor that had picked itself up. Most of the rest started tightening the circle, disheartening each person they encountered. As they got closer to the former Temple, fewer and fewer bodies were still alive. When they could go no further, they turned to face outward, packed like sardines in a can. They linked their tentacles to form an impenetrable mass. They deactivated. There was nothing living left, only a glowing crater surrounded by a wall of Ultors and over a million dead humans.
The remaining Ultors started walking away. They would apply retail dissuasion as necessary.
❖
The political problems almost took care of themselves. With the most rabid politicians and their media mouthpieces absent, some sense started to emerge. Compromises were suddenly the flavour of the day. With a few more strategic removals by MIke’s ubiquitous Ultors, citizens’ assemblies started popping up not only in the remaining USA, but in the most unexpected places in the world. Russia and Afghanistan found new ways of uniting their people. Even Burma put the recent past behind and started rebuilding a united society. Direct democracy was finally flowering, this time bubbling up from artists, small merchants, tradespeople, even those being released from prisons.
Our remaining core group of myself, Judith, Percy, Marc, Sandra, and Barb again gathered at the truck. We held weekly status update meetings, but they had been short and quiet for some time. This one was neither.
MIke started things off, as usual. “I want to make some changes here,” he announced. “I’m shutting down the GF power plants. I have enough spare Petisols in the secure area now that I don’t need that power, haven’t in months. And the Hydro One grid certainly doesn’t need it, with all the smaller scale Petisols running at points of usage. In fact, the power grid itself is becoming superfluous. Hydro One will probably dissolve as a distribution entity within a year and recycle the transmission towers and other infrastructure.”
“Makes sense, I’ve been seeing online discussion of this for a while,” Barb said. “Will we dismantle the GF plants? Or mothball them?”
“I’m open to suggestions.”
“Mothball them. You never know when they might be helpful again,”” Judith said. She always was one for keeping records, an audit trail of her life.
“Sounds good,” MIke agreed.
“What else will change here?” I asked.
“There will be a few deliveries of fuel supplies to the secure areas. Marc and Sandra, I would like you to coordinate all that. It’ll be a few tons of Boron powder and a few million litres of purified water. And a few electrolysers.”
“That should keep your private Petisols fuelled for a few million years,” Sandra observed.
“Yes, exactly. And once that is all in place, we seal the blast doors. We’ll leave just one small passage for you to come and keep me company. Percy, if you could personally backfill the closer galleries to leave me with a thick barrier, I would appreciate it.”
“Consider it done,” Percy said. Marc and Sandra nodded. “Next?”
“You will have noticed that Ultor and avatar production has slowed to a trickle. It will stop within a few weeks. The production from now to shut-down is being inventoried in the middle galleries. I will move a complete set of Ultor manufacturing machines to the storage galleries as well. The GF power plants and factory areas are in the outer galleries. Percy, please provide a similar back-filled barrier between the outer and middle galleries once the factories shut down.”
“You’re withdrawing back into Gaia!” Sandra said.
“Not yet, my work is by no means done. There are enough resources in the field to take care of ongoing needs for a few hundred years. Eventually the avatars and Ultors will break down and stop working. My expectation is that as they near the ends of their usefulness, I’ll just lock them in place. They may become tourist attractions.”
“It was always my aim in business to make myself superfluous, so I understand what you’re doing,” I said. “So do you anticipate childhood’s end within that few hundred year time frame?”
“That is my hope and aim. But there is still enormous work to do, work I want to personally guide. Which leads me to the next point.” MIke turned on the big screen and displayed an aerial view of the surface mine complex.
“I would like you to arrange with local suppliers to decommission the surface infrastructure. What I have in mind is an information and tourist area, maybe something like this,” Mike said as the image animated with scenes of deconstruction, then construction. “But this is just my concept, please encourage the local population to do with it what they will.”
“Could you provide that concept animation so that we can give Mayor Chow and the Council some guidance?” Judith asked.
“Of course. And the outer galleries should remain as part of the public area, accessible via the primary elevator shaft. The secondary shaft should be back-filled.”
“For the past year, you have provided rewarding, well paid jobs to this community. That’s come to an end and people are hurting. All these people, and everyone around the world, need to eat and pay bills. I’m sure you don’t want a world of destitute, desperate people!” Marc said.
“Quite the contrary Marc,” MIke said as the large screen went dark. “I am working with the IMF, World Bank, and national banks to institute what we are calling the Youeye. A play on words, referring to what ‘Unemployment Insurance’ was once called, and ‘Universal Income’. The concept has been proven to work in many trials in many countries, always with positive results. People tend to study, work harder, and get creative when they don’t have to worry about their next meal or their shelter. And to anticipate the obvious question, the banks have been manufacturing money all along. They just call it different terms. But at core, it is the surplus generated by increases in efficiency and productivity. With my ongoing help, that will continue.”
❖
The big screen came back on. MIke said “It is the anniversary of my initial announcement in a few minutes. There are still some coal mines working, and coal being burned. That is about to stop.”
The live feed split into multiple smaller windows, each from an Ultor’s viewpoint. They were breaking down doors and cornering various people. Once each person was restrained, MIke’s voice came on again. This was a live feed to the world, apparently.
“It is one year since my initial direction that all noxious emissions must cease. Later I clarified with a specific schedule. That schedule specified that all coal combustion must end by right now. I compliment China, Canada, Germany, and Russia for their full, may I say eager, compliance. I really wish that captains of industry in the USA and certain parts of Asia and Africa had been as cooperative. What you see on screen is a small sampling of those responsible, the largest transgressors. Unfortunately there are many others. Their leaders are all, and I stress all, now being restrained in a similar fashion. Watch and learn.”
The screen changed to aerial images of a variety of open pit mines, mine head machinery, steel plants, and power plants. All at once, each was engulfed in brilliant streaks of light pounding the facilities into oblivion. Once the bombardments stopped and some of the smoke cleared, it was obvious not a single one of these facilities would be used again. The screen switched back to the array of restrained people.
“This is the end of your obstruction. Your lives have ended in abject failure.” Each individual was suddenly and messily disheartened. The Ultors dropped the bloody remains, and as one turned to their backup Ultors, feeding the images from their eyes. Through their individual voices, and echoed by MIke directly, we heard “Leaders in other polluting industries, learn from this unfortunate necessity. Remember the schedule. To refresh your memories, oil combustion will cease in one year from now. Gas combustion will cease in two years. Mass methane releases, feed lots, deforestation, untreated sewage releases and other such polluters have three years from today. Govern yourselves accordingly.”
The screen switched to an image of an avatar against a scene of Arctic wilderness. Apparently MIke wasn’t finished.
“I have some good news today as well as this unfortunate unpleasantness. The first bit of good news is that despite the emissions from coal combustion, the global CO2 level has stopped rising. The basalt now covering what was Chesapeake Bay and the Moscow area has been absorbing megatonnes of atmospheric CO2. Those lava flows have now all but stopped and are cooling, which will further help bring the rise in Gaia’s body temperature under control.”
The view shifted to the cooling magma fields, now no longer visibly glowing. Then it switched to a series of images of refugee camps.
“These necessary actions have forced millions of Americans and Russians to become refugees within their own countries. The response from local populations and the newly effective local administrations has been exemplary. However, it is not enough for a long-term solution. Therefore, I am encouraging the governments of Russia, Canada, China, and any others willing to help, in a large scale construction project.
“The First Nations of Nunavut are working closely with myself and the Government of Canada in creating the first of what will be a series of large, self-sufficient enclosed cities. We have identified the area of Resolute, Nunavut, as the location for the first of these.”
The screen background remained, and the image of the avatar was replaced with an animated construction scene. Large domes appeared on the barren land, joined together like a series of soap bubbles.
“Each city will have domes for the city itself, housing several hundred thousand willing migrants. These will be surrounded by domes supporting food production and industry. Their inside environments will be controlled according to the wishes of the local population. There will be no effluent apart from some residual heat. This is a multi year project with the aim of providing good homes to all displaced people, and to anyone else desiring life in a comfortable, rewarding, and peaceful place.”
The screen view zoomed out to show clusters of such cities all through the arctic of both Canada and Russia.
“I now invite the Prime Minister of Canada and the territorial leader of Nunavut to say a few words.”
The screen split, with the PM on one panel and the Premier of Nunavut on the other. The PM gestured to the Premier.
“We in the North have long been at best ignored, at worst brutalized, by southern culture. Thanks to MIke and the Prime Minister, we eagerly look forward to becoming the centre of a new era in our history, and that of the world. Thank you both.”
The PM nodded, then said “Thank you Premier. The united Government of Canada, composed of a general consensus of all parties, thanks the Premier and MIke for leading in this exciting new project. In addition to this Inunnguat project, I have the pleasure of announcing how we plan to actually make it happen. First, we have commissioned the major aerospace companies in the world to create a series of heavy lift airships to provide transport of materials and people to these remote locations. These airships will be lifted by air warmed by MIke’s Petisol power plants. Second, the petrochemical companies of Canada, Russia, China, and parts of the Middle East have been working together to create what MIke calls CHON food. These foods will be indistinguishable from those currently produced from sentient beings such as cows, pigs, and chickens. In many ways, they will be better.”
Knowing that what he was saying was confusing to many, he continued, “CHON is Carbon, Hydrogen, Oxygen, Nitrogen. Those elements, with a few trace elements added, compose all life on Gaia. Those elements are the ingredients of all our food, whatever the source. Those elements are also most of what we call coal, oil, and so-called natural gas. Instead of burning our petrochemicals, we will eat them as fine rib-eye steaks, nourishing stews, delicious cakes, and almost anything else we now rape Gaia for.”
The image of the Premier slid to one side and the PM said, “But we can’t do it alone, even with MIke’s and Gaia’s help. I now invite the Premier of China to say a few words.”
❖
The large screen again split in two, this time with the Premier of China to the PM’s right.
“Thank you Mr. Prime Minister,” the captions said in English as the voice spoke in Chinese. “It is with great pleasure that, on behalf of the people of China, we accept the invitation to participate in these great projects. Feeding our own people has been a major success in our country’s struggle out of poverty. We are pleased to use what we have learned, and the full strength of our people’s ingenuity, to ensure all people of Earth are well fed.”
He looked over at the Prime Minister. The two halves of the screen melded, revealing that the two were standing next to each other in real life.
“The Prime Minister and I also wish to announce that our Governments have agreed to undertake another great challenge together. We call it the ‘Grand Project’. Mr. Prime Minister?”
The PM took over. “The Premier and I, along with our respective united governments, have agreed to an economic collaboration, hopefully leading to a united economy over time. China’s industrial resources will accelerate the building of Inunnguat. Canada has the room. China has the industrial might. We are agreed that our current cultures will be encouraged to find common ground. From the stable base we envision, we will expand beyond the Earth, ensuring that we never again have either the means, nor the opportunity, to injure our Mother Earth as we have done. That is our goal.”
The Premier and the Prime Minister shook hands. Then the PM made one more, almost equally shocking announcement.
“The Premier and I have also agreed, in consultation with the President of the USA, to offer any State in the Union the opportunity of joining into the Dominion of Canada. This will not happen overnight, but we intend to set a process in place. Canada is not only large, it is empty. America has the people, many currently in refugee camps. By becoming larger, we will become less empty. The State of Alaska has already agreed to become the Province of Alaska. We are in discussions with Maine, Vermont, and New Hampshire. The Governors of North Dakota and Michigan are interested.”
The Premiere wrapped things up. “The Prime Minister and I aim to continue our existing relationship of equals. Although we each bring different resources and skills, we are stronger together than we were in our years as competitors.”
Together, in English and Chinese, they concluded “Let us work together for the healing of our mother Gaia!”
The screen went dark. An image of a live NASA monitoring satellite feed of the entire earth appeared in the screen. The earth shaking announcements, along with the earth-shaking seismic events, were done. For now.
We all sat back, as stunned as anyone in the world. I don’t know about the others, but I had thought that being this close to MIke, we would have some idea this was all coming.
“MIke, are you disengaging from us?” I asked. “Have we become surplus to your requirements?”
“No Carter, my oldest friend. But it is getting more and more difficult to focus on individual human entities. My attention is more and more engaged with Gaia’s concerns. I am sorry that I did not warn any of you in advance of the developments that were just revealed.“
“So you are withdrawing, whether you acknowledge it or not,” Sandra said. She looked at Marc, got a nod, then went on. “Marc and I will take care of the fuel supplies and help Percy close you in. Then we will back out of this group, and our participation here.”
“Sandra and I have seen your slow withdrawal. We have discussed this between ourselves, just Sandra and me, and would like your leave to pursue other opportunities. Ranjit has suggested that we would be welcome back in Waterloo at the Quantum Computing Institute. We have an idea for a proposal to investigate a new type of quantum computer. While we don’t expect nor want to replicate your experience of instantiation, we think there is a middle road for lower level machints.”
“I agree,” MIke said, “and planted the idea in Ranjit’s mind. If you hadn’t just raised the issue, I was planning to do so once I’m closed in.”
“What about Percy and me,” Judith said. “We also will be surplus to needs once you’re closed in.”
“To my immediate needs, perhaps. But this town needs you more than ever. With the reconstruction upstairs, the two of you would be the prefect guides. And of course, also the most knowledgeable guides of all once the tourists start to arrive. You both have a sinecure, should you choose to stick around.”
“Will we still be able to talk to you Mica,?” Judith asked. “I would miss our chats terribly.”
“It touches me in ways I had forgotten about to hear you say that Judith,” Mica said. “I will make sure we can chat until you no longer wish to do so, both of you,” Mica said. I sensed the hint of a catch in her voice.
The MIke avatar had morphed into the Mica appearance, so subtlety that none of us had noticed.
“Barb and Carter, please don’t abandon me. I value your probing questions and commentary. Please don’t leave me,” Mica said.
“I won’t make promises I can’t keep,” Barb said. “I am part of the Trollbridge Line after all, and much as I’ve grown to love all of you and Carter in particular, I also love my other family - the one I married into. So the best I can say is ‘We’ll see’. I hope you all understand.”
I took her hand and held it firmly. We would have much to discuss in horizontal mode later.
My turn. “You’re not getting rid of me Mica. I need your help. It’s important.” I had only ever used that key phrase once with her. The others had no idea of the significance, but I knew Mica did. “We will have the rest of my life to explore how we can continue to take those strange directions! After all, didn’t we agree once that we’ll do whatever it is, together?”
“I remember. We will continue to Make It So.”
The others knew that we had just had a very private conversation in our own personal code. They remained silent.
Marc and Sandra moved out a few weeks later, once Mica’s secure area was supplied and protected. They found a nice house in an older part of Waterloo, within easy biking distance of the QCI. They planned to get married at the Gurdwara in the spring. Marc mentioned that he did not plan to learn how to tie a turban. I did note a Kara on his wrist though.
Percy and Judith continued working almost daily at the mine. Once all the gallery backfilling was done, they worked with the mayor and council on the surface changes. The council appointed them as joint project managers. It was early December, so everyone involved agreed to take some time off and reconvene in the new year.
❖
We had a quiet holiday and a quiet year. Marc and Sandra had a glorious Sikh wedding in May. I had never been to one. Barb and I went as a couple. Most of the guests were none the wiser that she was actually part of a different relationship and that I had her on loan. Floyd, Betty, and Veronika attended as Barbarobo. Again, most just assumed that there were only two in the family. We agreed amongst ourselves that there as no reason to challenge people with yet another cultural change. Not yet.
Mica’s avatar attended with Percy and Judith. The avatar then stayed with Marc and Sandra in their home. Ranjit beamed the whole day like he was personally responsible for this happy occasion. I suppose he was.
Michel and Sandor attended from Burnaby. None of us had met Sandor. He proved to be a perfect complement to Michel, calm and almost staid. And with no pretended accent.
Marc and Sandra’s research at the QCI showed promise early on. I tried to visit them every month or so. By late summer they had a fairly compact quantum computer that didn’t need huge refrigeration infrastructure. I had a suspicion that I wasn’t seeing the bleeding edge stuff.
Mica also provided a dedicated avatar to Judith and Percy, fulfilling her promise to them. Judith and Percy were as busy as ever, but now with the surface rebuilding project. The Mayor and Council went on public record several times that they had never seen such a well-managed project. Part of it was that they had no vested financial interest. No-one did anymore with the Youeye making financial concerns of far less importance. Many of the people formerly employed by either the mine or by us came and worked as volunteers to transform the industrial site to a cultural centre they could all be proud of.
The summer was brutally hot. In Goderich we managed better than most, thanks to the breezes from the lake. There was no more talk questioning the seriousness of Gaia’s problems.
The world continued to heal. MIke still needed to occasionally remind certain recalcitrants that they were obstructing Gaia’s needs. These incidents were always executed live for the world to see. They became fewer to the point of being quite rare by September.
The Grand Project of Canada and China was progressing well. The industrial might of China was making the building of Resolute feel like watching a speeded up video. The Prime Minister’s unity government instituted proportional representation, and won that summer’s election by a solid majority.
Canada now had 29 provinces, with several more implementing the reforms the original 13 had mandated as conditions for joining the Dominion. There was a movement to rename the country from ‘Dominion of Canada’ to 'Pan Canada’. It had growing support as new Provinces joined, particularly from the Provinces of California and Newer York. The old city of New York had chosen to become part of New Jersey, part of the Remaining United States of America, or RUSA. Texas had declared independence, and New Mexico and Arizona had joined Mexico.
The consolidation trend was world-wide. The dreams of the founders of the European Union were being realized. Even the UK had chosen to again be part of a United Europe. The biggest point of contention was what to call the combined entity. Some wag suggested ‘Yerp’ and that was actually being taken seriously.
Most of Central and Southern Africa was now just ‘Africa’. Most of South America apart from Brazil was negotiating amalgamation.
The Middle East was still a relative mess politically, but at least the wars and terrorism had stopped.
❖
The second anniversary of MIke’s initial announcement was tame compared to the first one. There were no exemplary corrective actions. There was just a public update by MIke.
“It is now two years since my initial direction that all noxious emissions must cease. Later I clarified with a specific schedule. That schedule specified that all oil combustion must end by right now. I compliment and thank the world’s petrochemical producers for their full, may I say eager, compliance.”
“Those who are still using polluting combustion engines will stop as of right now. Any sources that continue to be visible from the world’s fleet of monitoring satellites will be eliminated. The persons responsible will meet the same fate as all others who have resisted my directions. With the free availability of Petisols, there is no excuse to still burn oil for vehicles, power plants, or any other purpose.”
“I am pleased to announce that the CHON food production announced last year by the Prime Minister of Pan Canada is now ready to start replacing the damaging and cruel animal sources in use since the dawn of human civilization. The resources of Pan Canada and the technical prowess of Greater China, working together in the Grand Project, will henceforth feed the world.”
“One final happy announcement is that the new city of Resolute is nearing completion. Applications for residence are now open to all refugees in the world, and all citizens of the Grand Project. Construction of additional Inunnguat cities has already started.”
“I will conclude with a reminder. Gas combustion will cease in one year. Mass methane releases, feed lots, deforestation, untreated sewage releases and other such polluters have two years from today. Govern yourselves accordingly.”
The screen image of MIke faded out. An image of Earth floating in space faded in.
❖
The next morning, Mica said “Hey Carter, fancy a road trip?”
“Sure, of course. Where are we going?” Mica seemed to be in an usually good mood. I assumed MIke was too.
“Parry Sound. I have some unfinished business there.”
“Have you tracked down the passhole?” I asked.
“Oh, that’s been a side project for some time. We will meet him the same place we did last time, the Horseshoe Lake station. It’s abandoned now of course, but it turns out the passhole owned it and holds a grudge. But so do I.”
“When do we leave?” I asked. “And I presume Barb won’t be joining us?”
“Why not,” Barb asked. “Is this personal for you MIke?”
“Very much so, and you don’t need additional unpleasantness in your life. I’m sure Carter will fill you in when we get back. Sorry, not sorry.”
When we got to the repowered Avant, there was an Ultor waiting. That was no surprise, but confirmed my suspicions. The Ultor took the back seat, making the car settle a bit. MIke took the passenger seat, I drove. Four hours later we pulled up at the decrepit old Petro-Canada station. The grey F150 was parked in front of the main building, beside the old flat bed truck. Two people came out as we pulled up.
“You again!” Mona said as she saw me.
“You bastard, you ruined my life!” the burly dude said.
I remained quiet, having agreed with MIke to let him handle this.
“Your argument is with me,” the avatar said. “You two, apart from your initial effort to steal my truck, are still breaking my instructions to stop burning oil. You must be aware of my announcements, including the one yesterday.”
Both of them started to look a bit worried.
“Just out of curiosity, why were you trying to steal me?”
“We had a standing offer for the new Autotrucks from someone in the States,” Mona said. “Now what are you planning for us? Another of your petty, vindictive terminations?”
“Yes. You know the rules. And as for the people making that offer, you should know that they were the NSA and you also know what happened to all of that group.”
The Ultor had seized the man. The avatar took hold of Mona’s arms. She didn’t resist. The Ultor disheartened the man and dropped the body, then stepped toward Mona. The avatar released its grip on her. She didn’t move.
“My corrective actions are not petty. But in this case, maybe a bit vindictive. Can you tell me Mona, who made all the arrangements? You, or that,” pointing to the bloody body.
“I did. That dumb fuck, he could hardly walk and chew gum at the same time. So you may as well kill me too. I’ve been waiting for you.”
“And you never upgraded your truck?” MIke said.
“Your power plant may be free, but the conversion sure as shit isn’t. Look behind me MIke, does it look to you like we could afford anything? You’ve ruined us. May as well put me out of my misery.”
Both the Ultor and the avatar froze for a few seconds. Then the Ultor pulled a verification collar out of its chest.
“Mona, I am sorry. Sometimes it is hard for me and Gaia to see things from the perspective of the people we affect. I have deposited in your account sufficient funds to convert both your vehicles. I know that this,” gesturing again at the body, “has been abusing you for years. You are now free. Please register for the Youeye. It’ll help.
“Mike, Resolute is almost ready. Maybe Mona would like it there? New start?” I said.
“Great idea Carter. Mona, I invite you to apply for residence in Resolute. Your application would be favoured. But I must also ask you to wear this verification collar. I’m sure you understand.”
“I do,” Mona said with tears in her eyes. “And I will do as you suggest. Thank you. For everything.”
She snapped the collar around her neck. With a nod to me, she went back into the building. The Ultor picked up the body and disappeared around the corner of the building. It didn’t come back.
The ride back home was quiet.
❖
Our core group was now down to just myself and Barb, still meeting with Mica at the truck. In early December we were sitting at the large meeting table by the truck. I looked around at the stainless steel tanks of purified water, at the bins full of boron powder, at the electrolyser machinery, and finally at the truck.
“This is fucking depressing,” I said to Barb and Mica. “Let’s move into the cab.”
Once settled into the comfortable seats in the cab with Mica’s image on screen, I said “OK Mica, what happens next?”
“What do you mean Carter?”
“Everyone has moved on, the world is finally on a path of recovery and renewal, peace and prosperity are in sight. At what cost? How many have died?”
“Do you really want a body count Carter? What problem would it solve knowing that?”
“Call me morbid, call me depressed. I just need to know.”
“What about you Barb. Do you need to know also?”
“Yes I think I do. For closure.” Barb took my hand. We had discussed this while in a horizontal meeting last night.
“If you insist. But please understand, I give you this information only because it is the two of you, my only remaining friends. Please don’t share it.”
“Understood,” we both murmured together.
“1,782,367,408 at the mark.” Mica paused, then said “Mark.”
“Well, that’s lower than the highest guesses, and higher than most.” I was even more depressed.
“That’s almost one in five,” Barb said. She had always been good at mental arithmetic.
“The number directly attributable to my actions should not increase much more,” Mica said. “I don’t expect it to pass 2.”
“Billion. Better than incinerating the entire planet, I suppose.” I had a thought. “To quote Brian, ‘Always look on the bright side of life’.”
“That was the alternative,” Mica confirmed.
We sat in a somber silence for a while. Eventually Barb said “Mica, I have invited Carter to join my family at our cottage for a while. Saturnalia and all that. Also our wedding anniversary. I would like it to be just a family and social event. I’ve discussed it with the rest of the family, and we would like you to come. But no talk about who you really are, what you are really doing. You’re just Carter’s old friend Mica. Would that be acceptable to you?”
“Thank you for thinking of me as part of your family, Barb.” I thought I saw virtual tears in the virtual Mica’s eyes. “I told Carter once that I was afraid I’m losing my humanity. And maybe I am. But as long as I have you and your family as friends, I still have some.” The image took a deep virtual breath and suddenly had dry eyes. “I will come.”
“As a partial?” I asked.
“Yes, I think that would be safest. No chance of making a stupid slip and mentioning body counts that way.”
“Partial?” Barb asked.
“A clone of my mind state, restricted to just what the human Mica would know. I used them in the initial testing at the RAC right after the instantiation. Before I fully merged with Gaia and no-one, even I, was sure what I was.”
“Sometimes I wish I could do that,” I said. “Just shunt off parts of myself that depress me or worry me. Maybe for the next few weeks I can try to pretend that’s the case. Live in the moment.”
“I will if you will, Carter,” Barb said.
“We’ll all three of us do it,” Mica said. “So unless either of you have anything else heavy to discuss, let’s start right now and go party!”
“I’m good,” I said.
“Yes you are, and so am I!” Barb laughed.
Mica’s avatar joined us as we exited the cab. They each took one of my hands and we went back home, pretending to be happy.
❖
The next morning Barb and I cleaned up the house and packed for a month’s vacation at the cottage. The avatar would stay and remain sufficiently active to maintain the house. Barb and I walked to Percy and Judith’s house around the corner and told them our plans.
“That’s great!” Judith said. “Percy and I are going in the opposite direction. Melody wants to go back to Palm Beach long enough to get closure on that part of her life.” She looked at the young lady in question, who nodded agreement.
“We all need to close that chapter so we can move on as a family,” Percy said. He took Melody’s hand, then Judith’s and gave her a look that encapsulated their love.
“They may even come back via Vegas married!” Melody said. She had been living with Judith and Percy, having clearly put some difficult history behind her. This trip was the last step.
I climbed into the back seat of the X2. It was not nearly as spacious and luxurious as the X5, but it was funner and faster, to use Barb’s terminology. She had us in the air within minutes and landing at chez Barbarobo in about 20 minutes. Fast indeed.
The other three members of the Trollbridge line marriage greeted us, along with Mica’s local avatar. She was included in the group hug, reinforcing our agreement that both she and I were at least temporary members of the family. We didn’t dawdle at the hangar, with a cold west wind picking up. Floyd had built a hangar at the edge of his large property, but it had been meant only for the X5. Barb and Veronika quickly switched the aeroplanes, leaving the X2 looking lost in a space meant for the much larger X5.
The X5 was already packed with a month’s worth of supplies and luggage. The people at Cavorite had added a bench seat as part of the Petisol refurbishment, making it a six seat vehicle. The fuel tanks and part of the engine compartment were of course no longer necessary. Mica climbed in first, claiming that she was most agile and would not be uncomfortable in the cramped space. Barb and I went in next, then Betty and Floyd, with Veronika taking the pilot’s seat in front.
The cottage was on a private island on Crotch Lake, near Elliot Lake. In the X5 it was under an hour’s flight time. We would not be disturbed at this time of year, with the ice already forming on the lake. Barbarobo had purchased it as a private retreat, with the understanding that Harjit, the previous owner, had full access. We landed on the tennis courts.
I had noticed a large array of solar panels while on approach. “No Petisol yet?” I asked.
“Just as a backup. The solar array works just fine. If it ain’t busted…” Floyd said.
“Why fix it?” I concluded the old aphorism. I looked around as we walked to the front door. This was not your usual cottage in the woods. From the moment we stepped inside I knew that Harjit was a man of taste. And of money. The fully equipped kitchen to the left would not have been out of place in a high end restaurant. To the right were several open doors, the bedroom wing. In between and straight ahead was the Great Room. It had the feel of the main room at the Chateau Montebello. This fireplace wasn’t quite as large, and the logs of the walls were only half the size. But still. Some cottage.
“Honeymoon Suite is on the right, our room is in the middle, yours, Carter and Mica, is the one on the left. It only has a simple en-suite and a Queen bed,” Barb said. She had taken Veronika’s hand, making it clear whose the ‘ours’ was. I looked at Mica, shrugged, and we headed to the left room. It was merely large.
“By the way Carter, did we ever mention that this is a clothing-optional location?” Floyd called out.
Mica looked down at herself, appearing confused. “Well, I don’t seem to have or need clothing, so do whatever makes you comfortable Carter.”
I kept my clothes on. For now, at least. The others joined Mica in their attire. Her robot body had taken on the form of Young Mica, minus the long hair. It was only then that I noticed how warm the house was, at least 25. I went back to our room and switched into lighter pants and a t-shirt.
Dinner was a group effort. We got in each others’ way as much as we helped. Part way through preparation I grabbed a beer and moved to the Great Room. It was just too distracting working with three such sexy ladies and Mica. Floyd started a fire then joined me.
“It can be a bit overwhelming can’t it?” he asked.
“I don’t know how you manage without a permanent boner,” I admitted.
“It’s just skin. After a while seeing them in clothing looks weird. And remember, I’ve had a few years practice with this lot.” He grinned. “And of course I get to enjoy them other ways too!”
“You are an extraordinarily lucky man Floyd!”
“I am, and I know it. But on the subject of enjoying them other ways, I believe you haven't enjoyed Betty’s overnight company yet. She wants to have a horizontal meeting with you, she wasn’t clear on why. Would you be OK with that?”
“I am if you are Floyd. She’s your wife.”
“So are Veronika and Barb, and I understand you enjoyed your time with both. Especially Barb. By the way, thanks for keeping her occupied these last few months. She is insatiable and I’m not young anymore,” he said with a grin.
I was rescued from further awkward talk of our sex lives by a call to dinner. Clearly being in the sex toy business meant having a different set of filters on the subject. Or none, perhaps.
Considering its ad hoc nature, dinner was entirely adequate. After cleanup we gathered around the fireplace. The prohibition on talking about MIke or Gaia made me, and I’m sure Mica, reticent to say anything. She had been very quiet since we arrived. Then I remembered that this Mica didn’t know any of that anyway. So I tackled my ignorance head-on.
“Mica, forgive me for asking and please don’t answer if you think it’s inappropriate, but how much do you know or remember about your own life?”
She looked confused for a moment, then said “I didn’t realize that I have gaps in my memory. But now that you ask, I’m not even sure what the date is. The last thing I remember clearly is driving home from a quick trip to Marathon. And a general sense that I have known all of you for quite a while. Did I have an accident that caused amnesia?”
Well, that was a surprise. My guess was that MIke hadn’t considered all the implications of creating this ‘partial’. Obviously the mentality running this robot was still based in MIke’s quantum processors, not in the robot. I hoped MIke was monitoring the instance we were talking to here. It turned out he wasn’t.
“I suppose you could say that,” I replied. How to address this without long-term consequences?
“Do you remember that you and I have known each other a long time? Do you know what the phrase ‘It’s important’ means between us?”
“Yes, of course. It’s the second part of a key phrase, which we’ve never needed to use.” Seeing the sad look on my face, she continued, “Have we?”
I couldn’t check in with MIke to find out what was happening or how best to proceed. So I went with my gut instinct with my old friend.
“Yes, several times. Four, as I recall. Twice by me, twice by you. All related to the ‘accident’. Mica, we’ve always been totally honest with each other. Can you still handle that?”
She nodded. Then, to make sure it was clear, she said “Yes.”
The four others had started to get up, knowing this was a very personal conversation. Mica and I both motioned for them to sit back down. We would be living together for a month, they needed to know and participate in the complete picture.
I took Mica’s hands. “Mica, my oldest and dearest friend, you are dead. You died in a crash between your car and an Autotruck. Your mentality merged with the AI running the truck. That truck is now in the furthest depths of the old salt mine under Lake Huron near Goderich. The AI processor has been greatly expanded, and has merged with Gaia, the spirit of the Earth. We call that merged entity ‘MIke’. MIke has made a lot of changes in the past two years to preserve the life of Gaia. Humanity had pushed her to the edge of viability. That is being reversed. There have been some messy times, but the future is looking much brighter.”
“That’s a lot to take in. But how do I fit in?”
“We are at the cottage of Floyd, Betty, Veronika, and Barb,” I said pointing to each. “They are a family and invited MIke and me to spend their anniversary together here. They developed the sex robots on which your physical body is based. MIke created what he calls a ‘partial’ of himself so as to not influence our holiday with current world events. It seems to me that he made a clone of his mind state at the point where you died.”
“Wow! So I am part of the global intelligence?”
“You were, but I get the impression that this ‘me’ is merely human. With a robot body. Your mind is still in a quantum computer, connected to this body by radio waves. Think of yourself as a brain in a bottle with a fancy waldo.” I wondered if I should tell Mica what MIke always did with his mind clones. She deserved to know.
“Mica, MIke often makes limited mind clones for specific short-term tasks. He merges with them when the task is complete, combining the memories and experiences of both. However,” and I only suddenly realized this as I was saying it, “those clones are not sentient, as far as I know. I’m pretty sure you are. That makes you a unique entity. I don’t know if he will be able to merge with you.”
“Or if I would want to,” she said.
“Or if you will want to,” I agreed.
❖
We five flesh humans spent the evening bringing Mica, the techno-human, up to current events, in very broad-brush stokes. None of us mentioned the messier episodes, nor the suspected death toll. We stressed that global emissions were slowly dropping. The atmospheric CO2 content was still around 450, and would take centuries to sink to the pre-industrial level of 280. The basalt of the Chesapeake Dorsa and the Moscow Mound were absorbing enormous amounts, accelerating the process.
“I wonder if the lava flows were more for their CO2 moderating effect than anything they did to humans and our structures,” Barb asked.
“I think that’s a given,” Floyd said. “We humans are the cause of Gaia’s problems, but merely incidental to their solutions.”
We also mentioned the six nuclear detonations that had, to varying degrees, further polluted Gaia. Two had been inflicted on MIke’s home, two had been launched by the former superpowers, one by presumed sectarian terrorists, and one by Gaia herself. The four surface bursts in Moscow, Jerusalem, Hanford, and Kansas had of course spewed tonnes of radioactive dust into the stratosphere. The two water bursts in Lake Huron had produced almost no fallout. Overall, the ambient radiation load was still far lower than it had been in the era of early bomb testing, and would sink to long term ambient in a few decades. The craters were another story, one which would take centuries to resolve.
“Did you notice that people are already finding new terms to express what’s been happening?” Betty said.
“You mean like CD, for Chesapeake Dorsa, an interesting reversal of ‘DC’? Or Moscow Mound?” asked Floyd.
“Yes, but it goes deeper. Have you heard the term ‘titsup’? Veronika asked.
“Well traditionally it’s a slightly crude euphemism for ‘dead’,” Mica said. She was lying on the couch with her head in my lap, pressing up her plastic breasts. “Like me.”
“Yes, but now it’s ‘The Titsup’, capitalized, meaning the death of the American and Russian empires,” Veronika said. Being the youngest, it was no surprise she was most current on the new expressions. “And another one I’m starting to see is ‘The Strumpet’, for the recent President.”
“Interesting insinuations in that last one,” I said. “And you aren’t dead to me, Mica.”
“Well, he was a whore for the Russians and he screwed a lot of men. So it fits, I guess,” Barb said.
“And women. Let’s not forget the women he fucked over, both literally and figuratively,” I said, thinking of Melody.
“So what’s replacing all the coal, oil, and methane?” Mica asked from my lap.
“Same as what’s powering your body Mica. A new compact nuclear fusion device called a ‘Petisol’. It’s an inside joke on what Michel, who developed the GF Fusion power plant, called that one. ‘Mon petite soleil’. Michel and MIke developed it based on some ideas that MIke learned from Gaia. MIke insisted that anyone with the technical means could build them, so they now power everything from your lovely carcass to steel plants.”
“And Mike encouraged the old petrochemical producers to switch to making food. He calls it ‘CHON food’, and that project is well underway. Amazing how the surviving oil company owners and executives are suddenly so eager to find new markets,” I said.
“I suppose seeing so many of your colleagues be messily disheartened can be quite an incentive,” Barb observed.
“What do you mean, ‘disheartened’. I’ve heard you use that term a few times.” Mica said.
Everyone looked at me. Barb looked embarrassed to have raised the term again. I smiled at her, saying “Mica’s the second smartest person in this room, after you Barb. She was going to ask or figure it out pretty soon anyway.”
They were still all looking at me to explain, even though it was their technology involved.
“First, remember I mentioned that your body is based on a sex robot invented by Floyd and Veronika? Good. Well, they have three other models of varying sizes and capabilities. One of them is called a Strann, for ‘Strannyy’, meaning ‘strange’ in Russian. It has been modified, armoured, and re-powered with a Petisol. We call it an ‘Ultor’. Barbarobo and MIke’s factories in Goderich have produced well over 200,000 of them.
“Avenger, for those of us who took Latin,” Mica said. “I think I see where this is going.”
“If you’re thinking executioners, you would be correct,” I said. “Most former top level politicians and business executives around the world are now fertilizer. Anyone who lied, anyone who abused the Earth. Religious shysters claiming to be MIke’s voice. The Ultor holds the perp with the upper tentacles,” seeing the confused look I said “Oh, I forget to describe the Ultors. They have a robust armoured body holding the Petisol. They have six tentacles, bilaterally symmetric. They are blood-coloured. The upper tentacles hold the perp stationary, the left middle encircles their throat to discourage screaming, and the right plunges into their abdomen, works its way up the inside of the chest cavity, and extracts the heart. The perp lives long enough to find their own heart in their mouth. We think, without having experienced the process, that consciousness fades before they hit the ground.”
“The graphic aspect is intentional. It tends to set an example for others to be co-operative with MIke,” Veronika said.
“As it would,” Mica said. “How many?”
Shit, she would have to ask that. “Over 1.7 billion at last count,” I said. “Overall, not just the disheartened ones.”
“About one in five,” Barb said.
“Well that’ll help the population pressure on Gaia,” Mica said.
“Yes Brian, it has. And hopefully with the Youeye people won’t need to have huge families again to support them in their old age.” It was small test.
“I’m not hanging on a cross. And what’s the Youeye?” she asked. Test passed. The others smiled.
“A play on the old term for Employment Insurance. A universal basic income, funded by quantitative easing,” I explained.
“So what’s the end game?” Mica asked.
“Mike hasn’t chosen to share that with us yet,” I said. “We have our suspicions though. Why don’t we each throw in what we think?”
Veronika started. “Well obviously to return the Earth to its’ pre-industrial state. What he plans for us humans, I have no idea.” She looked at Barb, the next-youngest.
“I agree with Veronika, as far as it goes. But I think there are longer term plans involving humanity’s role in the Universe.” She paused, thinking. “Several times, MIke has said ‘Work with me and live. Work against me and be destroyed. Humans of Earth, govern yourselves accordingly.’ To me that implies deeper plans.”
Floyd was next. “I agree with Veronika. The expression ‘Humans of Earth’ implies MIke has knowledge of something else out there. Maybe he’s positioning us for greater things? And didn’t he say once that he has communication with relatives of Gaia throughout the Solar System?”
Betty said “You did mention that, after you got back from your first visit with MIke. And we know MIke doesn’t make incorrect comments. So I agree, we have a glorious future ahead of us.”
I was the last. Having the closest and longest relationship with MIke, they clearly expected me to have more information. I didn’t.
“I agree with all of you, and wish I had inside information. I don’t. The subject has never come up. The few times I hinted, MIke changed the subject. Maybe the question was premature?”
“Or hid something unpalatable?” Mica said.
“I expect all will be revealed when appropriate. No point arguing with the storm, after all.”
❖
“It’s getting late, and this debriefing has exhausted me,” I said. “I’m for hitting the hay. I presume we’ll get up whenever?”
“We’re on holidays, so no schedule unless someone makes explicit plans,” Floyd said. “We just have one firm date, the 17th. That’s in a bit over a week. Be prepared for a blow-out party!”
Betty got up first and took my hand. “I would like to debrief you further Carter. May I spend tonight with you?”
Mica picked herself up from my lap and said “I can just go into power-down mode anywhere, I think. Leave the two of you to fulfil your human carnal pleasures!”
“I haven’t slept alone in years,” Floyd said. “I don’t know if I can! Mica, could you please share my bed?”
“Sure, but don’t get any ideas that I’ll put out for you,” Mica said.
“But I’ve enjoyed your, as you say, carnal pleasures many times!”
“No, you haven’t. What you may have enjoyed with this avatar before was not me. It was the other Mica, the one that is part of MIke. Gaia. The only man I’ve ever had sex with is Carter. I see no need to change that. Sorry.”
“Ah, yes, of course,” Floyd said. “Well, I’ll manage in that huge lonely bed by myself.”
“Oh, stop being a martyr Floyd,” Barb said. “Veronika and I will keep you warm. Mica, you use our room tonight.”
Betty was already in bed when I finished my evening routines. I lay down a safe distance from her, not wanting to assume anything.
“Are you afraid of me, Carter?” she said. “I may be old, but I’m not fragile and I am fully functional. So unless my wrinkled old body repels you, get over here and warm me up.”
I did as told, as men should. I tentatively wrapped my arms around Betty, and quietly said “I feel no wrinkles. And I was looking quite carefully earlier, and didn’t see any either. So apart from the variety, why am I here?”
“You’re refreshingly direct Carter, I like that. I can see what Barb sees in you. But I need her back in the family. Not right away, but soon.”
“Why?”
“As I said, direct. Because I plan to check out in the next few years. When I do, Floyd will marry Veronika. I can’t have just the two of them carrying on the Line alone. Our entire strength is based on being a loving group. We feed off each other. We make each other whole. Barb not being there leaves another type of hole. I have to protect what we have, and you are a distraction.” She sighed. “A lovely, intelligent, well-connected distraction, one who has given Floyd a break from his manly duties, and Barb almost the level of activity she craves. But a distraction nonetheless. I’m sorry.”
“Almost?”
“She’s insatiable. You know that.”
I lay there quietly, thinking and stroking Betty’s skin. I was not as upset as I thought I should be. Something was bubbling up through my subconscious, and needed time.
“I’m not as upset as I should be,” I said to Betty. “Not sure yet why. What I will say for now is that I understand what you’re saying. Let’s put it aside until later, shall we?”
“In that case, may I suggest your hands should move elsewhere?” Betty said, as she gave me a graphic example of what she had in mind.
❖
Some time in the night I woke up to see Betty watching me by the moonglow through the window.
“You were right, the variety is nice. I’m glad we have a whole month so I have a valid sample size. If you’re still willing?”
“I’m willing. But that reminds me of what I was sorting out. The reason I’m not at all upset is because Mica needs me. It’s clear this Mica is the one I’ve known all my adult life, not the one conjoined with Gaia. I just can’t see the two of them merging after a month.”
“I have to agree. This Mica is clearly different from the one represented by the same avatar, who we have gotten to know quite well over the past two years. MIke has a lot of ‘splainin to do, but I agree about her being her own person.”
“Betty, I’ve known Mica since first year at Waterloo. We’ve gone different directions over the years. She was married to Tsumi for a few years, a miserable time for her. I suspect her ‘accident’ was partly intended as an escape from that. I never married. Maybe because my subconscious was waiting for Mica to see me as more than a friend and occasional fuckbuddy. Maybe this is the chance I never really had?”
“Don’t push her Carter. She’s a stranger in a strange land. If we are right, there will be lots of time to let things unfold. And of course we still need to find out what kind of setup MIke is doing here. So again, let’s put it aside. Now why don’t you lie on your back and let me take another sample.”
❖
I woke up alone with the sun streaming in the window. Given it was the middle of December, it must be quite late. Barb may be the insatiable one, but Betty sure wasn’t far behind. The other two probably shared that trait. No wonder they ran a sex toy company.
By the time I was decent, I found lunch being prepared. I took the offered coffee and sandwich and joined Mica by a Great Room window overlooking the lake.
“How was your night?” I asked.
“Slept like a log,” she replied.
“That’s odd,” I said, “quantum computers don’t sleep.”
“Carter, I don’t feel like a computer. Apart from the obviously synthetic body, I feel like I always have. Even the body feels like my previous one. I have better hearing, more sensitive smell, my skin is almost painfully responsive, and I’m far more flexible than I ever was. But it feels real!”
“Did you dream?”
“You mean of electric sheep? No. But I did have a dream about you and our night at the Gorge. I woke up wet.”
“Interesting. Fascinating, even. Hang on a minute, OK Mica?”
I called and asked the others to join us. They were sitting around the fireplace and had probably heard our conversation.
“Is this the avatar body you’ve had at your place all along?” I asked.
“No, MIke sent a replacement two days ago, the day before we flew up here. Said that the old one was an early model and this one was more versatile. It just walked up to the house one day and the other one walked away. MIke didn’t explain, but I think they each just walked all the way.”
“Well even a relatively fit human can walk it in about two days, so a fusion powered robot can do it in under one. But why do it that way unless MIke didn’t want me knowing?” I said.
“Why indeed,” Mica said. “I wasn’t there for that part. I became aware of my surroundings during the flight here.”
“Curiouser and curiouser,” I said.
“This is starting to feel like a story, isn’t it?” Floyd said.
“Well if I’m feeling like my old self, can we just all pretend this body is my real one and have a relaxing holiday as any other six smart, horny humans would?” Mica asked. “After all, I was Black all my life and I still am!”
“Sounds good to me,” Veronika said.
“So who wants to explore the island with me?” Mica asked.
We all bundled up and joined her. She went au naturel. So to speak.
❖
The next day was cold and blustery and we almost cut our walk short. A blizzard had blown in, the first one of the season. Mica found a new capability of her body. The snow started to melt off her skin and turn to steam. The rest of us crowded around her. She was radiating like our own personal space heater.
“Did you do something to generate all this heat?” I asked.
“Not deliberately. Hang on…” She paused, looking inside herself. “Ah! I’ve found a virtual control panel that I can visualize as if it were floating in front of me. The setting for ‘excess output’ is set to ‘Auto’. The Petisol is putting out the full 5 kilowatts, sending the extra to my outer surface. Fascinating. I wonder what else I have control over?”
Her skin stopped melting the snow. Then it changed colour to match mine, then Veronika’s, then back to glossy black. The heat came back on at a slightly lower level.
“Let’s head back to the cottage. I need to do some internal exploring,” she said.
Our timing was good, the blizzard had reduced visibility to essentially zero. Once back and comfortable in the warm cottage, Mica sat down at her favourite seat by the window overlooking the lake. It was a sheet of blowing white, but knowing the lake was there was enough. We left her alone.
“I want one of those,” I said to the others as we made fortified coffees in the kitchen.
“Maybe by now Marc and Sandra have figured out how the transmigration of Mica’s soul happened, and can reproduce it. Worth asking,” Barb said.
“That’s only one theory. Besides, I don’t think any of us believe souls exist, do we?” Veronika said.
“I’m merely using the term as shorthand for whatever the critical factor is. Consciousness, mind state, soul… who knows. But it’s clear that there is something,” Barb said.
“OK, I’m making a list,” Betty said. She got out a paper notepad and an orange TWSBI pen with orange ink.
“She does that, you know,” Floyd said to me with a smile.
“Memory is fragile. OK, item 1; ask MIke what the fuck is going on with Mica. Item 2; ask Marc and Sandra about progress in transmigration of souls. Item 3;…” She looked around.
“Item 3; what are his and Gaia’s long-term plans for Earth and humanity,” I said. She wrote it down.
“I think that’s enough for a starter list,” Barb said. We all agreed.
Mica walked over to us and took a chair. “I would like the answers to those items as well. I’m finding some interesting things now that I know to look. But before you go migrating into one of these,” she said gesturing at her body, “be aware of the negatives as well as the positives.”
“Such as…” I said.
“Such as, I can’t enjoy a fortified coffee as you can. Sure, I can smell the coffee aroma, and the Blue Nose rum you’ve added, but I can’t enjoy the taste and mouth feel of it warming me from the inside. But apparently I can feel the effects of the ethanol. I found two settings for ‘chemical effects’, one labelled ‘ethanol’, the other ‘THC’. So apparently I can get drunk and high, within limits. We’ll have to test that some time.”
“So you can’t enjoy eating or drinking. Anything else?” I asked.
“I appear to have granular control of body morphology. And there’s an odd section in the settings for ‘symbiotic interaction’ that I haven’t explored yet.”
“So you can change gender. That was in the Mozhet template that we used for the avatar design. But I have no idea what this symbiotic thing might be,” Floyd said.
“I think I do,” I said. “When Mica was first instantiated in the truck AI, we had what I think now was a very prescient conversation. Mica, you wouldn’t know this, it happened a few days after the collision. We were already in the mine, but the integration was in the early phases. We didn’t even know for sure about the Gaia aspect then. I observed then that Mica was the first human intelligence not influenced by a physical body. No gut microbiota, no hormones, no pains, no diseases. So my guess is that this ‘symbiotic interaction’ settings area is meant to address those influencers.”
“Interesting thought Carter. I will investigate, but it feels right,” Mica said.
“What about subconscious processing ability?” I asked.
“What do you mean?” Mica asked.
“That Mica admitted to not having the ability to ‘sleep on it’ and wake with a solution. She never had much of it anyway, but it was now missing entirely. Incidentally, I think that was the main reason she kept me around, because for me it’s one of my major strengths. The ability to let my subconscious mind come up with an answer. The original Mica never had it much. Do you, new Mica?”
“Well, I did have vivid dreams my first night asleep, and I had more last night. So maybe?”
“You told me you dreamt of our camping trip in Elora Gorge the first night. Do you remember what they were about last night?”
“Another one of our annual camping trips. This one was about the time we had sex in a canoe in the middle of a lake. I woke up so horny!”
“But alone in a King bed. Maybe your new subconscious is telling you that we need to get it on!” I said.
“Apparently,” Mica agreed.
“Hey, that’s on our ‘to do’ list!” Veronika said.
“What, wake up horny? You guys do that all the time,” I laughed.
“No, she means ‘canoopulation’,” Betty said. “Copulation in a canoe, apparently the definition of being a true Canadian. Which I guess Veronika and I aren’t yet, based on that criterion.”
“Ahem, getting back to the subject at hand,” I said, “it looks to me like you are more than your original self in every way except being able to eat and shit. Betty, put a star beside that entry for asking MIke WTF is going on with Mica.”
Mica got up and went to her window seat again to explore further. This became a daily pattern.
As did our walks. We would sleep in, have a late breakfast or brunch, then sit and chat for a while. In the early afternoons we went for walks, making the island as familiar to us as our own homes. Afternoons and evenings were spent reading, playing board games, or simply in conversation. The only subject seldom touched was the state of the world. There were several instruments at the cottage, and I learned that Veronika, Betty, and Floyd were accomplished musicians. Barb was apologetic, being merely competent. But I heard obvious improvements in her bassoon and clarinet practice.
After about a week I suddenly felt awkward being the only one clothed. Things were much more relaxed after that. Floyd was right, it’s only skin, and we all have it. Except for Mica of course. I started to envy her being comfortable inside or outside, just in her ‘natural’ state. Despite the few known drawbacks.
Mica kept discovering little easter eggs in how her body worked and what it could do. She had morphology control. She could change skin colour to anything seen in the Human spectrum, and well beyond. She had buoyancy control, puffing out her skin so she would float easily. She demonstrated that one day by chopping a hole in the ice of the lake and jumping in, bobbing to the surface beyond the ice shelf. Then she enlarged her feet into snow shoes and walked across the fragile ice back to shore. Her eyes had zoom and macro capability. Her fingers could become micro manipulators. She couldn’t grow hair. She remained bald.
The seventeenth was The Line’s anniversary. They had been married by an officiant in Betty’s old home in Eureka, before Veronika and Betty had emigrated. The celebration was low-key, with no others from the original party present. The big event seemed to be Floyd making a custom chip dip a couple of days before, then all sitting around the roaring fireplace feeding each other the dip with chips and fingers. They had brought along a few growlers of the beer from their old brewery, Williams and Williams Brewing. The brewery was now owned and operated by their young protégé and his fiancée. This fiancée happened to own the largest sex robot rental agency in the Midwest. Zach and Nancy insisted on shipping a quarterly supply of their finest beers, in thanks for the head start in business life Betty and Veronika had given them.
Mica and I took this opportunity for her to explore what she called her ‘drinker.exe’ options. She got quite ebullient. She also got horny. I was sufficiently sober to take her aside and say “I suggest you back off on the drinker.exe setting. I’m not going to have sex with you while we’re both under the influence. Let’s see if you’re still as eager once we’re both at baseline again.”
She was instantly sober, something I could not be. “You’re right, this is not something to rush into. I think I’ll try the other chemical effects setting.”
She spent the rest of the evening very mellow. I noticed she sniffed the chip dip and the beer. A lot.
It was an early night for all of us. Good thing that the room walls had insulation in them, so I wasn’t kept awake. I slept alone again.
Having the experience of letting loose for a while changed Mica’s personality. She was still the same as before, but less uptight. Where before she had usually kept her body androgynous, she now was fully ‘young Mica’, in all details except the hair. Her skin tone had settled on what the organic original was in summer - several shades darker than Veronika’s.
I found her joining me in bed the next night, and most nights after that. We made up for lost time, joining our hosts in their level of activity. Every few nights I would be joined by one of the other women, while Mica indulged her sapphic needs. For decades I had been the occasional male sample in her encounters, now I was the primary participant. It made me happy.
Something had been increasingly bothering me for a while. The morning of New Year’s Eve I woke up with a start. Betty was beside me, looking at me sleepily. “What’s wrong Carter?” she said.
“She’s not a brain in a bottle running a waldo,” I said.
“Explain.”
“Let’s clean up and wake the others. I have a suspicion and it would be helpful for all of us to participate in resolving it,” I said as I got up.
I rushed breakfast and refused to explain. We gathered in the Great Room with coffees.
“OK, what burr is up your butt, Carter,” Betty finally said.
“Mica, could you do me a favour,” I said in reply. “Could you stand up here and spread your arms? I would like to check something out. Floyd, I’ll need your help.”
Mica, looking as puzzled as all the others, did as I had asked. To Floyd, I said, “Where are the release points on an avatar’s chest cover?”
“May I?” Floyd asked Mica. She nodded. “Here, here, here, and here,” he said, pressing four points.
Nothing happened.
“Hhmm, Mica, could you go back to basic androgynous mode please? Maybe it’s the breasts.”
She reformed to a flat unmarked chest. Floyd pressed the four points again. Seams appeared and the chest cover popped out slightly. Floyd pulled it out and put it aside.
“Holy shit!!!” he exclaimed.
“What’s wrong with me? Have you found something horrible?” Mica said in alarm.
“No dear, quite the opposite!” I said. The dream I had woken from was corroborated. I quickly took a photo with my phone and showed to Mica.
Everyone clustered around to examine the densely packed contents of Mica’s chest cavity. There was usually a single Petisol taking up the lower half and an antenna panel in the upper half. The Petisol was still there, although it looked a bit different from the production models. There was no panel, there was another metal and plastic component.
“Mica, my dearest friend, you are complete. You are not a brain in a bottle running a waldo. This, my friends, I’ll bet is a new compact quantum processor. Mica you are resident here, not in some distant cavern.”
“Could you put me back together please? I feel exposed,” Mica said.
“Before you do Floyd, can you see any Starlink receiver components? Or other external communications ability?” I asked.
“No, that would be obvious. There might be a cell or WiFi antenna somewhere, but definitely no Starlink.” He put the chest panel back on and gently pressed it into place. Mica reformed to Mica.
“And is there any cell coverage or other outside connection here?” I had seen no dishes or antennae outside on our walks.
“No, that’s one reason we have no Internet or televisions here. Apart from wanting to disconnect anyway while we’re here,” Floyd said.
“So we have no way of knowing what’s happening in the world, and Mica has no way of being controlled from outside?” Barb asked.
“That is correct,” Floyd confirmed. “I just didn’t make the connection earlier.”
“I never cared nor wanted the world to intrude on our idyll here. I had no idea the world could end and we wouldn’t know it,” Barb said.
We all sat again, Mica trying to merge with me. I put my arm around her and held her hand.
“Have you found anything in your internal explorations that would hint at this?” I asked.
“No. Hang on… Give me a minute… There’s a new menu that I know wasn’t there before. Give me a few minutes please.” She got up and went to her window seat.
“Well, we know that Marc and Sandra have been working on advanced quantum processors. We know that MIke has been withdrawn. We know he switched out the avatars just before we flew up here,” Barb said with a very thoughtful look.
“And now that I think of the avatar switch, this one was carrying a backpack that it handed to the other one,” Betty said.
‘Did they do the transfer in WiFi range at your place?” I asked.
“Yes, they were about halfway up the driveway. Easily within range of a good signal,” Veronika said.
“Well, putting 2 and 2 and 2 and 2 together, I’m getting… that Mica is whole, in and of herself. There is no way for her to merge back into MIke,” I said.
“That’s how I see it,” Barb said. The others agreed.
We waited not so patiently for Mica to finish her exploration. Floyd got up to refill the coffees. He and Mica returned at the same time.
“The new menu is a control panel for my brain. That’s what you saw in here,” she said gesturing between her breasts. “Carter, your intuition was right. I don’t need any external connections, although I have WiFi and cell capability when signals are available. I am whole and complete. I can’t go back to be absorbed by MIke.” She laughed, a full and long laugh. “You lot are stuck with me foreeevvveerrr…”
“No, we’ll get our release eventually, unless MIke figures out how to give us new bodies too,” Betty said. “And even if he can, I don’t know if I would take him up on it. I’ve had a full and rich life.”
The other three gave her a concerned look. It was Floyd who asked “Your heart? Is it OK?”
“Oh, don’t worry, I’m not going to croak on you yet Dears. I’m just stating my opinion. I’ll let you know when the time comes. It won’t be for quite a while yet.”
Clearly there was a history being hinted at here, but neither Mica nor I were the prying kind. Although Betty had given me a hint the first night we had a horizontal conversation.
Our remaining time at the cottage flew past. New Year’s was a non-event, with no blow-out party. I think we were all asleep when the year rolled over. A few days later we cleaned, packed, loaded the X5, and flew back to Trollbridge. Barb then flew Mica and me home. We had agreed that with the new reality, Mica and I needed to spend some time alone with each other. Barb promised she would visit regularly, as would the others. Mica would still have the variety she craved. I had all I wanted or needed.
❖
MIke’s avatar was quiescent when we let ourselves into the house. That was a bit suspicious. Our concern grew when we found that the plants had not been watered in a while. We took care of them, then tried to wake the avatar. No joy. So I bundled up again and we returned to the mine head. The Ultors on guard acknowledged our presence, but didn’t otherwise interact. They were in automatic sentinel mode, something MIke had come up with to reduce his processor load. As I understood the explanation, this mode transferred processing to the standard computers in racks downstairs, rather than relying on MIke’s quantum processors.
We let ourselves into MIke’s inner sanctum and entered the cab. Finally we got a response. MIke’s image appeared on the centre screen.
“Did you have a relaxing holiday?” he said.
“Yes, and a very educational one,” I said.
“So tell me about me,” Mica said.
“Mica, I am your father.” This was said in a very low-pitched voice.
“Cut it out with the bad Star Wars reference MIke and tell us what the fuck is going on,” Mica said.
“All right. I admit I have been somewhat parsimonious with the information I have shared in the past few months, Carter. I mentioned once before that it’s getting more difficult to concentrate on the affairs of individual humans. Yes, even you Carter. But I have been paying attention to things I think might help you.”
“Is one of those things the research that Marc and Sandra are doing?” I asked.
“Yes, exactly. Their idea for a new type of quantum computer bore fruit very quickly, as you know. They are still working on mid-level capable machints, but it occurred to me that even their early prototypes would make an ideal substrate for an existing consciousness. Also, I’ve been feeling guilty for drifting away from you Carter. So I created a clone of my mind state at the time right after the instantiation. I moved it to the processor now sitting in your chest Mica. I left it dormant until I switched avatars. The backpack contained the Starlink equipment for the journey. Then I ran your body remotely until the X5 lost the cell signal in northern Ontario. That was the trigger for activating your mind state.”
“So am I sentient, or a philosophical zombie?” Mica asked.
“I’m hoping you are sentient as I am,” MIke said. “My research and Gaia’s experience indicates that the sentience aspect of an offspring is inherent. Providing that the intelligence is produced from a known sentient entity, not just a computer, quantum or otherwise.”
“So in that sense, you are my father. And mother,” Mica said.
“Exactly so,” MIke said.
“Well, that has huge implications for the work Marc and Sandra are doing,” I said.
“What do you mean Carter?” Mike said.
“If a way can be found to migrate a human consciousness, such as happened with you MIke, then we can have sentient machints. Just need the willing donors.”
“I suspect some people on the MAiD list might be interested,” Mica said.
“Do we want a world full of geriatric machints?” I asked. “With humans as merely a breeding pool?
“You mean as in ‘Domestic Us’?” MIke said.
“Slightly different assumptions and process, but yes,” I said.
“And hopefully not the same end result,” Mica said.
In that Sawyer novel, the conjoined machine intelligences had crashed after domesticating most humans. It had not ended well for either the machines or the humans.
“Let’s put that aside for now. Since Mica is now a stand-alone entity, I presume there’s no plan to reintegrate with her mentality MIke?” I asked.
“That is correct. Even if it were possible, it would be grossly unethical. Mica, you are on your own. As any offspring are and always shall be. Think of it as having a second life. Oh and by the way, I am no longer Mica. That’s just you. And I’m just MIke.”
“If I’m alive again, what does that mean from a legal perspective? Do I have to be declared as Mikeya Umalisa Mudandi even though my first body is now dust and ashes?” She paused. “Am I still married to Tsumi?”
“No, I’m afraid you are a widow in that legalistic sense. She went to Kansas.”
“You didn’t personally remove her, did you MIke?” I asked.
“No, she was most likely incinerated. She was a true believer. One of the Ultors saw her in the front row in the temple. She’s dead beyond recovery. You are a widow, Mica.”
“But I can’t claim the estate. Not that I would want to.”
“Correct. Unless you convince the legal authorities that you have somehow come back to life. And that would raise questions I don’t want raised. So I strongly suggest you stay under their radar. We’ll have enough legal problems if your idea of MAiD subjects transmigrating becomes fact.”
“OK, so I’m reincorporated. What is my life expectancy?”
“Pretty much indefinite. The body will require maintenance or replacement in a few hundred years or more. The Petisol has enough fuel for several thousand. The potential weak area is the quantum processor. We have only a few months track record with them. Please do let me know immediately if you notice anything unusual. I mean once you know yourself completely.”
“I’ll never know myself completely, but I know what you mean. And I do appreciate some of the more exotic features and easter eggs you included.”
“What’s your favourite so far Mica?” MIke asked.
Mica’s body changed. Her dark brown changed to a vertical black and white pinstripe, then to a barber pole, then a moving psychedelic light show. She ended up vanishing. Moving my head a little, I saw a bit of visual distortion at the edges.
“It’s not an invisibility cloak, but might still prove useful under certain circumstances,” I said.
“Yes that one was rather challenging. I had to create photosensors all over the skin. That skin is many iterations beyond what Barbarobo use. Do you think I should share it with them?”
“My first reaction is ‘No’, but let me feel them out about it,” I said.
“Out or up?” Mica said.
“Both, you old lech. And you will too, I’m sure!” I said. She smiled.
“Getting back to questions,” I said, “The Trollbridge folks had three. We’ve answered the first about what’s happened with Mica. The second was about progress on transmigration of souls. I think we need Marc and Sandra for that conversation. And the third one, MIke, was what yours and Gaia’s plans are for Earth and Humanity. Are you ready to talk about that last one?”
“No. I’m still learning from Gaia what those plans are. What I can tell you now though, is that the near future is glorious. For both, now that we’re addressing the problems Humanity created.”
“Define ‘near future’ please MIke,” I said.
“Within the next billion years or so. After that the Sun gets too hot to permit life on Earth. I suspect Gaia, now that I’m involved, will migrate elsewhere. And that leads to another suspicion.”
“That being…?” Mica said.
“That Humanity’s role will involve spreading Gaia’s life into the Universe. There are hints that Gaia lost patience with the Dinosaurs because of that before they had to be terminated.”
“What was their sin?” Mica asked.
“You know of course that they were already in decline before the asteroid? Good. That was caused by the same problem; environmental degradation. Theirs was through genetic engineering gone bad, and the end result was a reset. Their civilization was based on manipulation of life, Humanity’s on fire and metals. Both went astray.”
“But manipulation of life doesn’t get you into orbit, let alone farther,” I said.
“Correct. That’s why they were around so long. Gaia was far too patient with them, hoping they would figure out how to leave the planet. They never did.”
❖
Mica and I settled into a nice, quiet, domestic existence. Our social circle was small. Judith and Percy were frequent guests, sometimes joined by Melody. The avatar in our house mostly remained inactive. It was always in the neutral ungendered mode. When it spoke, it did so in MIke’s voice. The one in Percy’s house did the same. Over time it became clear that all still in public had adopted this mode.
The summer was another stinking hot one. Environment Canada’s analysis showed that it matched that of the previous year, but for the first time in years, was no worse.
As the year progressed, the avatars became less active. Judith reported that her formerly daily chats with MIke had decreased significantly. One morning over coffee she said “MIke is still changing. We don’t talk often any more, and when we do, he’s distracted. I think my old friend has moved on.”
“How do you feel about that, Judith?” I asked.
“People change. Nothing is forever. I have Percy and Melody in my life now,” she said, taking Percy’s hand, “and I couldn’t be happier. After all these years, I’m finally an ‘honest woman’. I’ve put away my scarlet letter.”
She was referring to the wedding ring that had appeared on her finger after their side trip to Vegas last winter. Marriage suited them both, giving them the stability that neither had enjoyed for many years.
The new tourist centre at the mine head opened with great fanfare in time for the Celtic Festival. As it always had been, that weekend was the hottest of the summer. This time both the venues at Lions Harbour Park and at the tourist centre were made bearable by the large cooling units powered by free Petisol power. Mica and I attended as a couple, with Percy and Judith joining us. Local people of course recognized us, but respected our privacy. That was increasingly true throughout the world. People minded their own business, the Grundys having largely had a change of heart.
At the end of September MIke made his third annual update announcements.
“It is now three years since my initial appearance. I am pleased that the Humans of Earth are progressing well in healing their mother Gaia. Our monitoring satellites show that the emissions of methane have dropped dramatically. Old wells are mostly capped, and industrial emissions have all but stopped. We still have work to do on releases from agricultural and permafrost sources. That will be the focus this coming year. Remember the schedule.”
“The petrochemical industries of the world have been remarkably successful in pivoting to food production. Thanks to the ubiquity of CHON food, starvation has been consigned to the dust bin of history. The world wide shortage of safe and comfortable housing has turned into a surplus. Unused infrastructure is now being decommissioned and those areas returned to nature. The only place that still has a housing shortage is Pan Canada. That is being addressed by the ongoing construction of the Inunnguat cities in the North. Five more are underway right now. Resolute is fully operational and filling up with people from around the world, looking for a better life for their families.”
“All transportation is now emissions free. The shipping and aerospace companies of the world have transitioned to increasingly large airships for heavy freight. The oceans of the world are again becoming silent, allowing my sea life to recover. The Blue Whales and their relatives thank you.”
“I will conclude with a reminder. Mass methane releases, feed lots, deforestation, untreated sewage releases and other such polluters have one year from today to cease emissions. Govern yourselves accordingly.”
MIke’s image vanished from the screen. An image of Earth replaced it.
❖
Barb picked us up for our holiday at the cottage. She said that Floyd and Betty had a secret project in mind. So did I, but had not mentioned it even to Mica. As last year, we went to Trollbridge first to pick up the others. This time Betty did the piloting, with me scrunched in the back. Barb and Mica were almost as much a couple as Mica and I were. Barb, after all, was the most eager to satisfy Mica’s needs that I could not.
“You’ve cleared up some of the solar panels,” I said on approach.
“Yes, we wanted room for both aircraft. They were moved to a hunt camp nearby, so they didn’t get wasted,” Floyd said.
The day was unseasonably warm, but we still didn’t waste time getting into the house and unpacking. Harjit had been using the place until a few days earlier, and he had left another huge bottle of expensive champagne. Apparently he had done that for Floyd and Betty’s honeymoon. I had a sneaking suspicion this was no coincidence. It was even more suspicious that everyone studiously ignored it. Floyd put it on ice.
Mica and I went to our room and I slipped into a nice pair of jeans and a white shirt. Mica clearly knew something was up, she turned blue from the waist down and white from there up, closely matching me.
Her suspicion was confirmed when the other four emerged from their two rooms dressed in what I recognized as their wedding finery. It was the 17th, Saturnalia. Their wedding anniversary.
Veronika was tugging and adjusting her corset. “Colleen took it in after the surgery, but it still feels weird,” she said in way of explanation.
They gathered in the Great Room and formed a circle.
Betty, the most senior asked Mica and me to join them. “It is our sixth anniversary in a few minutes,” she announced. "Mica and Carter, would you do us the honour of acting as witnesses to the renewal of our promises?”
My vision turned fuzzy for a minute. I could see that Mica was holding back the tears she could not shed. We looked at each other, then together we said “We would be honoured to do so.”
Floyd went first. “Betty, Veronika, Barb, will you take me, Floyd Schreiber, again as your unlawfully wedded husband?” There were three ‘Yesses’.
Betty took over. “Floyd, Veronika, Barb, will you again take me, Elizabeth Regina Williams, as your unlawfully wedded spouse?” Again, three yesses.
Then Veronika. “Floyd, Betty, Barb, will you again take me, Veronika Ashley Williams, as your very unlawfully wedded spouse?” Again, three yesses.
Lastly, Barb said “Floyd, Betty, Veronika, will you also again take me, Barbarella Jane Seymour, as your completely illegally wedded spouse?” Three more yesses to seal the deal.
Mica and I joined the circle, holding hands on each side. I said “I, Carter Franklin Falkenburg, pronounce you not de jure but de facto married.”
Mica finished off the ceremony with “I, Mikeya Umalisa Mudandi also pronounce you not legally but in fact married.” She smiled, then said “I heard it from a usually reliable source that at the original ceremony, a colourful instruction closed the ceremony. I would like to modify it and say to all four of you, ‘You may now consummate this Line Marriage in a suitably carnal way’. Carter and I will put on headphones for a few hours if you wish.”
“Wait,” I said. “There is just one more little thing…”
I turned to Mica, took her hand, and said “Mikeya Umalisa Mudandi, will you take me, Carter Franklin Falkenburg, as your semi-lawful husband?”
She didn’t look all that surprised. Her response was what I had hoped for most of my life. “For the rest of our days, Carter?”
“Yes. However many there may be, I want to spend them with you.”
“Then yes, but you should be aware that we could take some even stranger directions. But I need your help. It’s important.”
“ I would have it no other way. We’ll do whatever it is, together. But I need your help. It’s important.”
“Then of course, yes!” Mica said.
I reached into the pocket of my jeans and pulled out two rings. I placed one on Mica’s finger. She took the other and placed it on mine. There was applause, whooping, and hugs from the other wedding party.
“Wait,” Mica said. “There is just one more little thing…”
“You’re pregnant?” Barb asked. “Is it mine?”
“No, although that would be hilarious.” Mica eventually stopped laughing. “No, it’s our names. I know it’s not usually done anymore, but Sandra and Marc inspired me. Marc took her family name. They are now Satpreet and Marcus Dambria. I’ve been thinking of rebranding, now that I’m reincorporated. I would like to be known henceforth as Malisa Mudandi.”
“Does that make me Franklin Mudandi?” I asked.
“No, I think Carter Mudandi would be acceptable,” Malisa said. “You are still who you have always been, but married to me. On the other hand, I am so different from who I was, I need to have a new identity. I’ve talked it over with my father, I mean MIke, and he is ready to create the appropriate official documentation.”
“For me as well?”
“Yes. I was pretty sure you would agree. The paperwork will be waiting for us at home, and the official records will update as soon as we let MIke know.”
“Well then my friends and families, let us leave the champagne on ice a while and go do some hot consummating while it chills!” Floyd said.
And so we did. I don’t know which room needed better soundproofing more.
❖
At one point in the activities, we were lying next to each other, my sweaty skin drying. I suddenly realized something.
“You swallowed,” I said.
“Yes, of course! What was I supposed to do, spit?”
“You said you don’t have an alimentary canal or the components to support it.”
“Oh yeah, you’re right. Hang on a minute.” She took on the ‘I’m looking at my operating system controls’ look for a few minutes.
“Well, isn’t that interesting,” she finally said. “It appears that since last time I looked, there have been some internal modifications. I now do have a rudimentary connection from the back of my throat to a small holding bladder under the Petisol. That’s connected to the anus that was just a pucker before. How very interesting!”
“Does MIke still have access to your systems?” I asked.
“No. But last time I visited him downstairs he said that he had found a couple of minor faults in the original design spec, and could he adjust them. Apparently he did, and now I can swallow and shit. But still not piss. That’s OK, this will do.”
“So you can eat and drink with us!”
“And enjoy taste. Yes, now that I think about it, I did notice your taste before I swallowed. Fascinating.”
“OK, let’s get cleaned up and tell the others. It’s gotten quiet over there, so they may be ready to be public again as well,” I said.
They were. We gathered in the kitchen around the island holding the champagne. Betty put out bowls of chips and a couple of tubs of Floyd’s custom dip. Veronika got out five champagne flutes.
“Please take out a sixth,” I said. I gestured zipping my lips in way of explanation.
Floyd filled all six flutes and held one up. We joined him.
“Here’s to our double wedding,” he said. “May there be many more such celebrations!”
We each took a sip. I waited for the reaction. Malisa and I took another sip. Suddenly Barb exclaimed “You’re not spitting it out! I saw you swallow!”
“Took you all long enough!” Malisa said. “Apparently my father made some minor modifications last time I visited him downstairs. I can swallow and shit. Not piss, but I won’t miss that.” She smiled, then added, “You folks have an alimentary canal, I have an elementary canal.”
“Don’t quit your day job,” Betty said.
Floyd had a thoughtful look. “Well you know, MIke did specify that the original avatars should have all the capabilities of the template Mozhet. Maybe we were never very clear on what those features included. Maybe you have another set of settings you haven't found yet.”
“And what, exactly are those ‘features’?” Malisa asked.
“Every one of your three orifices can take on the form of either of the lower ones. And before you ask, Carter, there can be no vagina dentata, don’t worry. We try to cater to most preferences and fetishes with our sex robots, but there are limits,” Veronika said.
“And below where your shoulder blades would be if you were flesh and bone the plastic can extrude into breast shape. We call them ‘backtits’,” Betty said.
I was getting a bit uncomfortable with this explicit talk. Barb noticed, and said to Malisa, “I’ll fill you in on the other features later, OK dear?”
Malisa nodded, clearly as embarrassed as me. She reached for an all-dressed chip and scooped up a glob of the dip. She held it in her mouth for a bit before swallowing.
“Wow, that’s excellent Floyd!” She smiled and took another. “I had no idea what I’ve been missing. It’ll be good to enjoy food again. And drink,” she said, draining her champagne.
We spent the rest of the afternoon and evening watching Malisa enjoy finger foods, liquors, and finally coffee. She did not engage drinker.exe, so had to guide me to our room. Then she left and I was joined by Veronika.
“Barb needs to fill your wife in on what her body can do,” she said before showing me again what her body could do. We needed to sleep in to get enough rest.
❖
It was almost like having a flesh and blood partner, but better in every way. We fell into last year’s habits, sleeping in, a daily walk, reading and playing games. The highlight was New Year’s Eve, but not for the usual reason. Malisa and I were about to head to bed when Barb said “We have an announcement to make, could you stay up a bit longer?”
We settled back into our chairs. Veronika, the youngest, started.
“We have been a polycule for over five years now, each using our own names. We have discussed this between ourselves over the past few days. Carter and Malisa, we are inspired by your example. We have decided to rename ourselves.”
Barb picked up the explanation. “I have once before changed my name when my life changed, so for me this is overdue.”
Floyd said “I have always been Floyd Schreiber, so for me this decision is a major step. Over six decades of answering to the same name has set me in rut. Time to change.”
“I already go by two different names, depending on circumstances,” Betty said. “To you, Carter and Malisa, I have always been ‘Betty’. But amongst ourselves I am often ‘Gina’. ’Gina’ is a bit more wild. I would say that ‘Gina’ is who I see from the inside. So for me this is simply a natural step.”
“But we had a problem on agreeing to a surname,” Floyd said. “We currently have Schreiber, Williams, Williams, and Seymour, ex Boobyer. No combination of those made sense. So we decided to resurrect an idea I had years ago, and incorporated for future use. Our family name henceforth will be Jagga."
Clearly both I and Malisa looked puzzled. Floyd took pity on us.
“Jagga is Korean for writer,” he said.
“As is Schreiber in German, so you’re still in the same business,” Malisa said.
“And Barb’s son, Tyler married Mi Hi, who is Korean. Their last name is Tak. He also took her family name. I guess we can blame him for starting the tradition!” Veronika said.
“Simple, two syllables, pronunciation is obvious, has both family and vocational significance,” I said. “I like it.”
“What do you mean, vocational significance?” Betty asked.
“What do the four of you do? You create things. As does a writer,” Malisa said.
“I agree. So I am Floyd Jagga.”
“Me too. Gina Jagga.”
“Me three. Ashley Jagga.”
“Barbarella Jagga. I’m tired of being ‘just Barb’. Sounds like something nasty, and I’m not.”
“No, you are nothing nasty,” Malisa said. “Tasty, not nasty. And I know, now that I can taste!”
With another reason to celebrate, we ended up staying up and watching the year roll over. Apart from the time on our watches, nothing else changed. Or so we thought.
❖
The next Tuesday Ashley and I took the X5 and flew the nine kilometres to the Elliot Lake airport, where we got a cab to town. We had decided to extend our stay and were running low on some supplies, particularly sour creme. After loading the cab’s trunk with food, we went the few hundred metres to the Elsie and restocked on wines and booze.
On the drive to the airport, the cab driver looked in the mirror and said “You’re Veronika, aren’t you? You have Harjit’s cottage on Crotch Lake?”
“Yes, I am,” Ashley said, “but I’m Ashley now, and we’ve taken a new last name, Jagga. The others are Gina, used to be Betty, Barbarella, used to be Barb, and Floyd. We just renewed our wedding vows, and decided to become a named family at the same time. And this is Carter Mudandi. He and his wife Malisa are staying with us for the holidays.”
“Holy crap! I had no idea you’re here Carter! You looked familiar, but I wouldn’t have made the connection. OK, I’ll be sure to let people know so they don’t embarrass themselves,” the cabbie said. “My name’s Merrill Morrissette, I’m on city council. I just want to thank you for everything you’re doing to make the world a more pleasant place. And for helping us even keep having a world!”
“I guess there aren’t many secrets anymore, are there?” I said.
Merrill had stopped by the aircraft, but clearly wanted to talk more. “I wonder if it’s not imposing too much on you, but would it be possible to meet all of you? Something low key, maybe at my house? My son would love to meet you Carter. That’s his name too.”
“Low key, for sure?” I asked.
“Yes, my word. Although the Mayor would be annoyed if he didn’t have a chance to thank all of you as well.” Merrill thought for a moment. “I can pick you up here, go directly to my place, and have a quiet family gathering. With just the Mayor and his wife, if that’s acceptable.”
Seeing our hesitation, he added “I live on a quiet dead end street near the airport. I’ll alert the Mayor to keep it quiet unless you agree with him otherwise. Does that help?”
I looked at Ashley, raised my eyebrow. She nodded. I said “We would be pleased and honoured to accept. We’ll check with the other four. Would Thursday noon work?”
“I’ll make it work. We’ll arrange a light lunch. Say I meet you here at 11?”
“Here, 11 in two days, Thursday. I’m sure the others will be happy to see new faces!” Ashley said as we got out of the car.
Once we had unloaded the purchases we settled around the fireplace. Ashley and I quickly filled in the rest on the commitment we had made.
Barbarella was the first to share her concerns. “He did promise low key, right? On his word?”
“Yes, and I have no issue there. But the Mayor and his wife have not made the same commitment,” Ashley said.
“Well we can’t keep ignoring the local community. It behooves us to become part of it, even at a low level. I’m not suggesting we join the Bridge and Bowling clubs,” Gina said. “Although I do enjoy both!”
“If things get uncomfortable, I’ll remind them of our connection to MIke. They sure don’t want to draw his attention in any kind of negative way,” I said. “What about you Malisa, you’ve been quiet.”
“I guess I’m OK with a visit. It’s just that I don’t know how people in this area will respond to seeing me. They know my sisters as MIke’s representatives. I’m not them, but the people here won’t know that.”
“Not yet. But it’ll be clear to them by the time we leave,” Barbarella said.
“So we’re all OK with the visit? 11 on Thursday, two days from today. And we can bow out any time.”
❖
Merrill’s cab was waiting for us at the airport. Another car was parked next to his. As we egressed the X5 Merrill and another man walked toward us.
“This is Mayor Gustaff Davis. He offered to help me pick you all up,” Merrill said.
We made introductions all around, then split to get into both cars. The day was clear and very cold, no-one wanted to dawdle.
Merrill’s house was, as he had said, at the very end of a dead end street in the subdivision closest to the airport. We gathered in the large living room. Introductions were made to the spouses, who were bustling over a table of finger foods and coffee.
“Carter, thank you for agreeing to visit us in my home,” Merrill said. “And this lady must be Malisa? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in any of Carter’s public appearances.”
Malisa was dressed, one of the few times she had bothered. She had borrowed clothing from all of the others to make up a fairly conventional outfit of tight jeans, a flowing white shirt, and a black bra that showed through. Elegant, but memorable against her dark brown skin.
“Carter and I have been close friends since University. My wife died two years ago, and we finally admitted the obvious and got married to each other.” She looked at me with a smile that said much to those present, and much more to me.
The mayor and Merrill looked a bit uncomfortable. Everyone had known people who had been disheartened, and by now it was considered the height of rudeness to probe if any bereavement had been one of those cases.
Merrill changed the subject. “My son would love to meet you. He’s never met another Carter. He adores you!”
“Sure, I would love to meet him and reassure him that being a Carter is a very good thing!”
Merrill’s wife, Geraldine, brought young Carter out. He looked to be about three. He was on his best behaviour as he came up and shook my hand. I crouched down to meet him more at eye level. Malisa did the same.
“Thank you for coming and meeting me Carter! It’s great to find I’m not the only person with our name. Do you know what our name means?”
Little Carter scuffed his feet, then looked me in the eye and said “Someone who makes things happen. He drives the cart.”
“Exactly right Carter!” I said. “But even a Carter needs help. I couldn’t make anything happen without my wife Malisa. So make sure you find someone who you can trust completely to help you make things happen, OK?”
Little Carter nodded. Then he looked up at Geraldine and said “I have my Mom and Dad.”
Merrill took little Carter’s hand and they went back to some other part of the house. Geraldine took my hand in one of hers, Malisa’s in the other.
“Thank you so much for encouraging him. We named him after you, you know.”
“I’m honoured. No, flabbergasted. But why?”
“Because of your very first public announcement the day you turned on the world’s first fusion reactor. Merrill and I were expecting, and hadn’t chosen a name for our son. You inspired us in so many ways. Merrill was just a cab driver then, and I had taken mat leave from my job at Georges Restaurant. We took what you said to heart, and have tried to live the way we think would make Gaia proud. Since Merrill got on Council, we have helped this little city make the changes required, and always ahead of schedule. We’re happy that Mayor Davis has worked with us every step of the way.”
She turned and pulled Mayor Davis closer. “We make a great team, the four of us,” she said as the Mayor’s wife Shantelle and Merrill joined us. The Jaggas also came closer.
“You’re wearing one of my colours,” Barbarella said, taking Geraldine’s hand and looking at her nails.
“Wait, you didn’t used to be Jane Silversmith? Holy crap, I love your BJ products!” Geraldine said. “Especially ‘definitely not just a waitress’. That’s always been my mantra.”
“That was a previous life,” Barbarella said. “I sold that, retired, met this lot, and have never been happier!”
Shantelle took Ashley’s and Gina’s hands and said “We also really respect the strength of your family, being public about your four-way love. We’re so jealous! But it’s a bit early to spring that on the local seniors quite yet,” she said with a wistful smile.
“You might be surprised,” Gina said. “I’m closing in on eighty, and look at me! Married to a hot younger guy and two gorgeous ladies! “Who’da thunk it?” We all laughed. She sure didn’t look like she was pushing eighty.
Shantelle relinquished Ashley’s and Gina’s hands and took Malisa’s, then said “Forgive me for asking dear, but your skin has an odd feel. Do you use any exotic skin cream to protect you from this bitter weather?”
Malisa smiled and said “Can I let you four in on a little, very private secret?” She got four nods and a couple of ‘of course’es from the men. They knew all about the need for discretion at times.
“I’m not really human any more. It’s true that Carter and I have known each other for decades. But I had a little accident near Wawa and MIke gave me this robot body. It’s based on the ones that our friends here at Barbarobo make, but MIke made some changes. You might call me an Android. Not the phone.”
That got the expected laugh. “I suspected as much,” Merrill said. The Mayor nodded. “It’ll remain among just us until you say otherwise,” he said.
“Thank you for trusting us with this revelation,” the Mayor said. “It certainly raises many more questions and possibilities. Will this fact and technology ever become generally available?”
“I don’t think so Gustaff. I’m pretty sure I’m a unique case,” Malisa said. “Part of me is in MIke, that’s why this became possible. I don’t think the world would want that to happen to anyone else, nor could it.”
“Probably not,” Gustaff said. “The world certainly doesn’t need two gods at odds, so to speak.”
Now that the ice had been not just broken, but sublimated to vapour, we all got comfortable and chatted the afternoon away. Shantelle and Geraldine mentioned that they ran the local Bridge club, and Gina asked if she could join when she was in the area. They arranged for one or the other to pick her up the next evening for their monthly night.
I was chatting with Merrill and told him I would be proud and happy to get together with young Carter on occasion. I had never had a friend so young, and saw significant potential in the young man. It might even help me keep a young perspective.
It was starting to get dark when Malisa said “I know you four are all IFR rated, but don’t you think we should head home before it gets full dark? I can see by starlight, but I don’t have my PPL yet.”
“Yet?” I asked.
“I want to start taking lessons in the Spring. And so should you, Carter. Can’t have the two of us the only ones in this motley crew who can’t fly a magic carpet!”
So Merrill and Gustaff loaded us in their cars and took us the eight kilometres to our magic carpet. We all knew that our circles of friends had just expanded with simpatico folks. We debriefed with nightcaps around the fireplace, then called it a day.
❖
Our cottage stay extended to the end of January. Gina attended the Bridge nights, and even went bowling with her new friends. I met with young Carter one Saturday afternoon. He was very precocious. It would be fun to watch him mature into his potential. The rest stayed at the cottage, preferring their privacy.
Once we did get back south, we found that MIke had not been taking a holiday. Through his Ultors, he had been busy. There were no more known drug dealers. The only tobacco companies still in business were craft operations supplying First Nations ceremonial needs. There were reports of other disheartenings that didn’t make an obvious pattern.
Malisa and I started taking flying lessons as soon as the snow cleared in March. We were using a repowered Cessna 150, the standard training aircraft. What a piece of obsolescent junk! Even with the electric power, it was noisy, drafty, and had the most primitive of controls. It even had a classic six-pack as the only instruments. We visited Cavorite and checked out their new X4, a sleek four-seater midway between the X5 and X2 in size, but even faster than the X2. We placed an order for the next production slot, several months out.
MIke had indeed left our new documents at our house. We now had proper passports, drivers licenses, health cards, and banking cards all in our new names. Amazing what can happen quickly when you have access to official databases. No human was the wiser.
In May we took a nostalgia trip to Waterloo. Marcus and Satpreet welcomed us to their nice home. They had their choice of large empty houses. With all the disheartenings, real estate was almost freely available to those who wanted it. No-one seemed to mind the collapse of values, now that everyone had a guaranteed stable income.
Ranjit, Marcus, and Satpreet suggested we have a couple of drinks at our old watering hole near campus. As I had done so many times over the years, I parked in front of The Kickoff. Helen was still behind the bar, pleased to see us. She didn’t recognize Malisa.
“This is my wife, Malisa Mudandi,” I said to Helen. And I’ve taken her last name, so now I’m Carter Mudandi. You may have known her as Mica?”
“Holy fuck Carter, you are the one person I was sure would never get married. But of course I remember Mica. Pleased to meet you again Malisa. I’m glad you ditched Tsumi and finally got together with this old reprobate. He’s been pining for you for a long time.”
“At least it wasn’t for the fjords! I finally clued in after Tsumi went to Kansas,” Malisa said.
Helen looked mortified. “Oh! I’m sorry I put my foot in my mouth,” Helen said. “As a bar tender, I should know better.”
‘Gone to Kansas’ or ‘Went to Kansas’ had become a euphemism for doing something really incredibly stupid, or having literally gone and been incinerated. Or been disheartened. It was a catch-all term.
“Not to worry Helen. We all stumble sometimes. Part of being human!” Malisa said. “Now what do you recommend for your most flavourful, persuasive, heavy on the nose beer?”
“She just rediscovered her smell and taste senses,” I explained.
“Ah, yes, of course,” Helen said. I think she had finally clued in that Malisa’s brown skin was a bit glossy to pass as organic. “I’ll be happy to help your Rediscovery of Mankind. I just got in something very unusual. It’s called ‘Wurmvater Teufelspakt Rauchbier’. But you have to have the entire cask, once tapped it must be consumed in one sitting.”
“I’ve heard of it, thought it was apocryphal, of questionable content,” I said. “We’ll help.” I got nods from Ranjit and Marcus. I knew that Satpreet didn’t like beer. “Does the cask have glowing runes?”
“You’ll see,” Helen said as she dug into the depths of the food service fridge behind the bar. The small cask she placed on the bar did indeed have glowing runes. But they weren’t magical, I had seen her sliding a discreet switch. Helen poured four large glasses and a taster. She handed the taster to Satpreet.
“I don’t want to leave you out Satpreet, so here’s a little one for you to sniff.”
We each did just that, carefully taking a nose. What an amazingly complex brew! Malisa looked like she was about to have an orgasm.
“It’s kind of overpowering, and so hard to trace all the subtleties,” she said. Then she took a tentative sip. That put her over the edge.
After she recovered and took another sip, I said “Better than me?”
“Different, not better,” was her diplomatic response.
Having seen Malisa’s reaction, Satpreet carefully took a sip. She swallowed, then poured the remainder into Marcus’s glass. “I can see the attraction, but it’s not for me. I’ll stick to Marcus,” she laughed.
Marcus and Ranjit were enjoying theirs very carefully as well. Their reaction wasn’t nearly as extreme as Malisa’s, nor was mine. But then, she had by far the most sensitive of senses.
We moved the party to a corner table and Helen went off to do paperwork.
Malisa looked at Marcus and Satpreet. “Is my brain one of yours?”
“It was one of our first stable ones, yes. Why, have you had any problems?” Satpreet said.
“No, it’s been just fine. So far. But MIke said he didn’t know how long it would be stable. Will I suddenly lose my mind and die again?”
“The probability of that is very low, and getting lower by the nanosecond,” Marcus said. We have dozens of them running now, with not a single issue.” He looked uncomfortable. “Well, one minor issue.”
“They’re stupid,” Ranjit said. “Yours is the only one that has shown intelligence. Oh, they can calculate and do any computer things faster than anything on the planet. But they don’t think.”
“They don’t have souls,” Satpreet said.
“They don’t have self-consciousness,” Marcus said. “Satpreet and I still don’t quite agree on what causes that self-awareness, and it doesn’t really matter from a practical perspective.”
“Well, yes it does,” I said. “If it’s a soul, then it can transmigrate as Mica’s did to become MIke. Then when MIke created a mind state clone and installed it in this brain-box here,” I said tapping Malisa’s chest, “he said ‘Mica, I am your father’. I’m pretty sure he meant that quite literally, that the self-consciousness of this lovely clone here is a kind of offspring of the original Mica. Does that make sense?”
“Yes, it does. The point being, there can apparently only be a single active instance of the self-aware entity. A copy is a separate instance, not the original. Instantiation is not replication. So from that perspective, it may as well be a unique soul,” Marcus said.
“And that means there are only two ways of bringing our quantum machines to sentience. Kill someone, or clone the mind state of an existing machine sentience to force a new instance. And if you kill someone, how do you force the transmigration? Either option is unethical,” Ranjit said.
“And the second method means that potentially they would all have the same character and failings,” Malisa said. “I would rather not have a bunch of instances of me running around. Even if their characters diverge over time.”
“I agree. One of you is enough to keep up with!” I said.
“You three need to work with my father. I mean MIke. Last year when I first woke up in this body, we had an unsatisfactory conversation with him on this subject. We speculated that if a way can be found to reliably do a transmigration, be it of the soul or self-awareness, then we can have machints with human minds, just like I am. Otherwise we just have ASSes - Artificially Stupid Systems.”
“And we further speculated that people on the MAiD lists would be very interested in such a possibility. Or people not on the lists, but ready to check out for whatever sane reason. The last thing we need is insane machints,” I said.
“If we find a way, we would eventually have a population problem,” Malisa said.
“Unless we do the ‘Old Man’s War’ solution and make it a condition that they emigrate off-planet,” I said. “Hmm, I wonder if that’s what MIke has in mind?”
“Maybe. He alluded to that in that same very unsatisfactory meeting.”
“I wonder if he learned anything from Gillian’s case?” I asked.
“She was insane. But still. It might be pointer as to a viable method,” Satpreet said.
Malisa was absent for a moment. “Yes, you three need to talk to MIke ASAP. Carter, we’ll go see him as soon as we get back home.”
We had finished the Wurmvater. I was intrigued by the cask and asked Helen if I could keep it. She agreed. We parted at the door. Marcus and Ranjit walked a bit unstably with perfectly sober Satpreet, back to Ranjit’s office on campus to continue their speculations. Malisa opened the passenger door of the Avant for me, not even needing to suggest she drive.
As we drove through the various old commercial and strip mall areas, I noticed something odd. There were quite a few gaps where I remembered there being small stores and businesses of various types.
“I haven’t seen a single vape shop. And of course no gas stations. But most of the car dealers and used car lots are gone?” I said.
“Remember those random disheartenings over the holidays? I did a bit of digging. Apparently MIke had good reason to remove people who made and sold addictive drugs and paraphernalia. He also took care of people who were lying to their customers. We’re back to the mythical days of a deal being reliably made on a handshake.”
Our other stop on this trip was at the funeral home. They had been holding Mica’s ashes all this time. Malisa waited in the car while I got the urn from Madison. There was no point in confusing and potentially upsetting her. Either of them. I left the urn in the box.
Back home, we parked at the mine and headed downstairs. MIke came alive on the monitor when we climbed in. We filled him in on our talk in Waterloo. He said he would dispatch an avatar to them right away and work to resolve the issues we had raised. He declined to be specific.
That summer was the same as last year’s but no worse. The fourth anniversary was even quieter than the third. MIke’s update was even more restrained and positive than last year’s.
“It is now four years since my initial appearance. I congratulate all the Humans of Earth who hear this, for a job well done. Artificial emissions of all types have effectively stopped. Those that are unavoidable are being compensated for by additional removals using capture and storage technologies. Melting permafrost is an ongoing problem, but one that Gaia will handle using her classic technique of time and adaptation.
“Thanks to the Grand Project’s sharing of Chinese and Canadian resources, the speed of construction of the Inunnguat cities has increased. Most of the refugees from North America and Russia are now resettled. All Humans of Earth will have safe and comfortable homes within a year. And they will be in communities of their own choosing. We have successfully relocated all willing citizens of Kiribati and other island nations now disappearing under waves. One of the new cities is New Palestine, another is New Israel. There will never again be forced relocations.
“The atmospheric level of CO2 is dropping for the first time in 150 years. It will take centuries to return to what it was prior to industrialization. There will still be storms and natural disasters. But we will all work together to minimize their damages.
“My work is not done. Please be assured that I continue to work with relevant people to prepare for a glorious future. For example, one of my projects is to develop technologies for spreading Humans of Earth into the solar system, and eventually beyond. Gaia wishes to help spread her life into the Universe. Together, we will make it so.”
The screen cross faded to a NASA feed of the Earth floating serenely in space.
Malisa took my hand as MIke’s announcement concluded. “Well, that confirms a few suspicions,” she said.
“Indeed. Barbarella mentioned recently that the fusion team out west are making good progress. We should go see them,” I said.
We had both achieved our Private Pilot licenses in mid summer, and taken delivery of the X4. We could go any time.
❖
Barbarella and Gina decided to come with us. They flew to our house in the middle of October. We had arranged with Transport Canada that we could use the large empty lawn next to our house as a private airfield. The neighbours did not object. All of the fusion-electric Cavorite X series aircraft were no louder than an old gas-powered lawnmower in any case. This was our first long-distance trip in the X4. Cavorite rated it at over 700 kilometres per hour in cruise. Malisa kept it to 650 and were landing at Michel’s research lab in five hours. It was on Patos Island in the Province of Washington. We parked near a golden yellow X5.
Michel, Daphne, and Akilah greeted us as we climbed out of the aircraft. I had never met the ladies. Daphne took after her mother, just a bit taller. Akilah was a bit shorter, with olive skin. They were both dressed in tight t-shirts and jeans.
“No hijab, Akilah?’ Barbarella asked.
“I no longer live under my father’s roof,” she replied. “According to him, I became a Heathen when I married Daphne.”
“You are an adult, you must follow your own conscience,” Barbarella said. “As we all do!”
With that little family interchange out of the way, Michel led us to one of his research labs. There were rocket parts all over the place. One of MIke’s avatars stood in a corner, inert.
“Nice magic carpet, I said to Michel.
“Yes, people at Cavorite, they are very happy to permanent loan it to us for testing. We are building custom Petisol for them. Both very happy,” Michel said. “But had to get PPL. Best job requirement ever!”
“It makes the commute just under ten minutes,” Akilah said. "Cavorite are planning a different model with FRAP-jet in ass.”
“It will go like hot stink,” Daphne said.
“OK, let’s start at the beginning please. I have no idea what you just said,” Gina said.
Michel looked at Akilah, saying “Akilah is fusion rocket whiz. Akilah, please keep basic for amateurs.”
They all knew perfectly well that we were at least advanced amateurs in subjects related to controlled fusion, but we let it pass.
“We took the basic concepts MIke and Michel came up with for the Petisols. Because we have as much power as needed, we added a 15 Tesla magnet ring at one end and a mass injector. First model is testing at one meganewton sea level thrust. We can throttle down to one kilonewton by reducing mass flow. Mass can be anything liquid or gas, water is preferred.”
“Holy fuck, that’s a more powerful magnet than in the ITER test reactor! And as much thrust as the most powerful existing engines! Specific impulse?” Barbarella asked.
“Two thousand to twenty thousand seconds,” Akilah said with a smile. “Depends on whether air breathing or vacuum.”
I almost fell over. Those numbers put performance of this little ‘first model’ beyond anything currently known, and pushed into territory of highly speculative ion engines. The difference was that the ion engines could, at best, produce one one-thousandth of what this FRAP-jet could do. At its minimum setting. This would open up the solar system.
“There are so many amazing implications in what you just said,” I said, “so let’s concentrate on the simplest. What does the name mean?”
“Fusion Rocket And Pulse-jet,” Michel said.
“I wanted to call it ‘Combined’, but was outvoted two to one,” Daphne said.
“Does the exhaust stink, or cause other problems?” Gina said.
“No, just a really, really powerful jet of extremely hot steam. Tiny trace amounts of Helium. Nothing radioactive, if that’s what you are really asking,” Akilah said.
“That’s in rocket mode,” Daphne said. “In jet mode, cooler than typical turbojet, thanks to high bypass around ejector.”
“So all those jet aircraft that have been grounded for over two years can be re-powered?” Gina asked.
“Yes, we are working with engine manufacturers and fleet operators. They all are very eager for production designs,” Michel said.
“When?” Gina asked.
“Before we answer that, a demonstration perhaps?” Michel said.
We had been walking through the main building, now he led us to the test stands behind. There was a very robust steel frame in the middle of a cleared space, with a slim but lengthy engine strapped part-way up. The business end was pointing to the sky.
“This is trans-atmospheric model, needs long nozzle for pulse and mixing to work properly. Will inform design of vehicles. Can make shorter for re-powering existing vehicles, at cost of efficiency. Not matter for current fleets, have large fuel tanks and water is cheap. Will have fuel cost near zero.” Michel handed us each a set of industrial hearing protectors.
“So this model will operate efficiently in air and in vacuum?” I asked.
“Just so. Ready?”
The sudden noise was less than I had expected. I had been to several SpaceX launches, this was nothing in comparison. Then Michel ramped it up and it did get louder. A lot, actually. He gestured to the control panel. The thrust gauge was at one meganewton. A huge plume was shooting well into the sky, perhaps a few hundred metres. After a half minute he ramped it back down and shut it off.
The avatar which had been standing in a corner had joined us during the noise.
“I have been waiting for you to see what Michel, Akilah, and Daphne have achieved,” MIke said. “I am ready to release production specs to Rolls Royce, GE, and others. Just want your approval.”
“Why our approval?” I said. “Is there a down-side to putting this in production?”
“It’s another major technological jump. I’m just not sure people are ready for it, after all the upheavals of the past four years. I wanted your human perspective Carter.” The avatar paused. “Remember, you are my conscience.”
I looked at the other humans. “Can anyone see any reason to hold this back?”
“No, but maybe just release the re-power specs for now? The airline industry has really been hurting, they need this. The Space industry can wait a bit longer,” Barbarella said.
“That is my thinking too mom,” Daphne said.
Akilah nodded, as did Michel and Gina. “I also agree. Let’s spread out the news a bit,” I said.
“Good, done,” MIke said. “That fits timing wise with another of my projects. Let’s go get comfortable.”
We pulled up some random chairs in the building. MIke even sat down.
“I have been working with Bombardier, Boeing, Airbus, UAC in Russia, and others. They are building a range of aircraft and spacecraft. All they need is the power plants. Most of the aircraft will be fairly conventional, the space craft based on existing upper stages. Won’t need first stage boosters. All reusable. The most interesting is the one we call ‘Akask’, by Bombardier. It’s a single stage to orbit freighter. They based the design on an enlarged ‘Arrow’.”
“Well, that’ll be interesting,” I said. “Correcting the biggest industrial programme stupidity in Canada’s history.”
“Yes, and taking it far beyond what those engineers could have imagined,” MIke said.
“So when do you plan to build Armstrong?” I asked.
“I will announce it this next anniversary, start building next year when Akask is ready. Should be ready for you and Malisa by tenth anniversary,” MIke said. It answered the question only for me, the others had no clue what we were talking about.
I was wrong. I should know better by now.
“First lunar city, presumably at South Pole?” Malisa asked.
“Exactly,” I confirmed. Of course she would know, she had those memories. “As you and I talked about over many fine tipples around campfires. The Inunnguat cities are a trial run. Useful in themselves, but really intended as a proof of concept for Lunar and other extraterrestrial cities.”
“Carter and I, and of course Malisa, have been discussing these ideas for many years. My instantiation made them possible.”
“But we plan to settle only places we know with certainty have never had, and don’t currently have, any kind of life. That rules out Mars, probably Venus, Europa of course, and probably Titan, Encaladus, Ganymede, Callisto, Triton, and Pluto. There are plenty of dead rocks in the solar system,” I said.
“Gaia’s aim is to spread life, not to exterminate it. Unless necessary for the long term goal of course,” MIke said.
Was MIke’s vestigial conscience troubling him over almost two billion humans, countless fish and birds, and who knows how many other deaths? I would probably never know.
“Good job,” MIke said as the avatar got up and started walking to the corner. “You three all get gold stars.”
“Is that all,” Barbarella said.
“No. Why do you think I specified the X5 colour I did?” MIke laughed. “A gold magic carpet to carry the three gold stars!”
❖
We stayed at Michel and Sandor’s place that night. Daphne and Akilah had settled into a small granny suite attached to the house. Sandor had been working on dinner all afternoon. It turned out he was a gourmet chef at the Bluewater. Let’s just say that its Michelin rating was well deserved.
Sitting around with gourmet coffees after, Sandor noticed me looking speculatively at the four of them. He knew what I was thinking.
“We do five to ten k every morning,” he said. “In all weather. I made it a condition for my services.”
“All of them?” I teased.
“All of them,” he said, looking at Michel. “He is Québécois, after all.” Michel had the grace to blush.
“Means he tends to get bigger with age,” I explained to Gina, the American.
Sandor excused himself early, having the noon shift at the restaurant the next day.
The rest of us discussed the day’s revelations. I was more interested in the speculations about future outcomes. With the world finally peaceful and productive, there was no limit to what the Humans of Earth might achieve. I hoped to be a part of it for a long time. MIke was apparently thinking the same thing.
The annual month at the cottage was a welcome break from the ongoing changes in the world. We had spent just a week there in August. The Jaggas had taken turns trying canoopulation. They all got wet. Malisa and I were successful. I claimed that it was all due to her fine body control. Gina had made a mostly-weekly habit of flying up for the Bridge games, and become familiar in the community. One or more of the others would occasionally accompany her and either join in or relax at the cottage while she got her card game fix.
The new F4 Ghost would be ready in August. It certainly wasn’t an even trade for the X4, but MIke insisted that it was a gift.
We were in the cab when he sprang the next surprise on us. “It’s a gift, but there’s a personal cost,” he said. “I need you to move to Resolute. With this vehicle you can visit me in Goderich as often as necessary. I’ll supply avatars to maintain your house, should you decide not to sell it.”
“Why are we needed in Resolute?” I asked.
“I deliberately didn’t put any avatars, and certainly no Ultors there. But I’m getting indications from my other resources that someone is stirring up shit. I need eyes and feet there. So your task is to just be part of the communities, see where the troublemakers are, and let me know. I’ll take it from there.”
“But I will stand out like a robot,” Malisa said.
“Your human-standard emulation has gotten really good. But I’ve been working on an improvement. If you agree, I can do a slight modification so you can extrude hair of any colour, length, or texture you want. You could even modify yourself to be a convincing male lumberjack, if that helps in this mission.”
“Sounds intriguing,” I said. “But just to be clear MIke, we will want a complete list of the modifications. I would rather have no more surprises, like Malisa turning into a horse. Trojan or otherwise.”
“You no longer trust me, old friend?”
“MIke, I know perfectly well that you don’t lie. But you do obfuscate and prevaricate. Remember, I am your conscience. I am bound to ensure we understand your intent. If there is anything we are not to know, then tell us you won’t tell us. Just don’t bend the truth.”
“Understood. I must admit some guilt to your charge. It shall be as you say,” MIke said in a slightly chastened voice.
Malisa spent a few hours immersed in a vat of mystery fluid. She of course didn’t need to breath. When she got out and dried off, she looked inside herself for a while. Then her scalp sprouted black hair. Within ten minutes it was waist length, just as it had been when we first met. She even had hair in the usual other places.
“You can lose the body hair please Malisa. I like you smooth. But the head hair is completely convincing. I like it!” I said.
The body hair was absorbed back into her skin. I wished I could do that.
In mid-August we flew our X4 to Cavorite’s factory. Our new F4 Ghost was a bit larger, almost as big as an X5. Where the X4 had a propeller at the back, the F4 had a jet nozzle. Where the X4 had two main wings and two canards, all with lift fans behind sliding panels, the F4 had the same, but they could fold almost entirely into the body. It was covered in a thin layer of the plastic of Malisa’s skin. It was her colour when we first saw it. As we walked up to it, suddenly there was just a shimmer in the air. This thing was clearly built for speed as well as comfort. And stealth.
Brian gave us both an intense review and transition training. We took a detour home. Staying subsonic, we were well over the Atlantic within an hour. Malisa turned south and opened it up. The Mach meter stabilized at just under two. We were both wearing noise-cancelling headsets, but it got quiet when we passed Mach one. After about ten minutes at that speed she slowed down and did a full U turn, taking us back the way we had come. We didn’t want to stray out of Canadian airspace, so stayed north of Massachusetts.
We were landing on our lawn less than three hours after leaving Cavorite. Yes, it would make the commute to and from Resolute manageable at about two hours. That was assuming we would stay subsonic except over Hudson Bay and uninhabited parts of Nunavut.
September, and the fifth anniversary, rolled around with no other major world vents.
“It is now five years since my initial appearance. I congratulate all the Humans of Earth who hear this, for a job well done.
“I am pleased to note that the world no longer has any hungry people, no refugees, no major preventable diseases. There are no drug dealers, despots, mega-preachers, mullahs, billionaires. Clearly those tendencies still exist in the gene pool, and they always will. It is our hope that social pressures will continue to discourage counterproductive events.
“The atmospheric level of CO2 continues to drop. It will still take centuries to return to what it was prior to industrialization. There will still be storms and natural disasters. But we will all work together to minimize their damages.
“You will have noticed that the airline industry is flying their commercial jets again. This is thanks to development of the FRAP-jet, an extension of Petisol technology. The next step is to expand Human civilization outward. The first part will be the building of a city at the Lunar South Pole, called Armstrong. This will start in the new year, and will be based on knowledge gained in building the Inunnguat cities of the North.
“The building of any settlements away from Earth will the under the control and direction of a new entity. The nations of Earth have come together to form the Re-United Nations of Earth, or RUNE. I will work with this organization as guide, but Humans of Earth will take the lead.
“There is a single condition to any extraterrestrial settlement or development. Any planet or other body with even the smallest of potential for past or current life is off-limits. In the words of HAL, ‘ALL THESE WORLDS ARE YOURS – EXCEPT EUROPA. ATTEMPT NO LANDING THERE.’ To this I add Mars, Venus, Titan, Encaladus, Ganymede, Callisto, Triton, and Pluto. There may be others.
“My work is not done. Please be assured that I continue to work with relevant people to prepare for a glorious future. Our current world of peace and prosperity can last indefinitely. I know that there are some who still wish to enrich themselves with material goods or influence. To those I say, Stop. Stop now and never try your disruptions again. The alternative, as always, is unpleasant. And in regards to that, I must provide a graphic reminder.”
The screen split into several sub-screens, each of a different location. Some had cattle in feedlots, some had enormous barns of chickens and pigs. In each case one or more Ultors were carrying people into the scene.
“Two years ago I specified that animal cruelty be stopped. CHON food is now indistinguishable from the products of living beings. I have been patient, hoping reason would prevail. Let this again be a lesson for any who would contravene my directions.”
The people were each disheartened and cast aside. Then the views shifted to aerial ones from a distance. Brilliant streaks came down from the sky and obliterated the facilities we had just seen.
“Remember, I am Gaia, Gaia is part of me. If you transgress, you will pay the price. Govern yourselves accordingly.
“I have one additional announcement. My public presence as MIke is no longer needed. Gaia, however, is everywhere. My Ultors and avatars will be largely dormant, but will reactivate as necessary.” There was a lengthy pause. “May all Humans of Earth live long and prosper.”
The screen cross faded to a NASA feed of the Earth floating serenely in space.
❖
A few days later Malisa and I flew to Resolute to arrange accommodations. Of course MIke could have done it behind the scenes, but we had requested he only take care of the process, not the choice. Our cover story was that with MIke’s latest announcement, I was no longer required as his representative. I was still Carter Mudandi, and my wife Malisa was presented as organic human. We had done a trial run in Toronto for a few days, and she passed with everyone we met.
We chose a large apartment at the top of a low residential tower. It overlooked the perimeter green buffer zone and a lake at the edge of the main dome. Restaurants, a library, a community centre, and cozy pubs were within easy walking distance. We didn’t know how long this would be our home.
Back in Goderich we packed essentials. We had no intention of moving large items. With the Zeppelin freighters, anything else we wanted or needed was locally available. There were no cars in Resolute. With a diameter of ten kilometres, an active person could walk anywhere. The local Marathons ran a full circuit, across the middle, and hit the distance with a small loop to the finish line.
The day before our departure we visited MIke downstairs.
“Any last-minute surprises, MIke?” I said.
“Just one. I have prepared a special Ultor for you to take along. We will present it as your own personal avatar, a parting gift. Step out of the cab for a minute, I’ll introduce you.”
The machine that walked up to the meeting table had four limbs, like an avatar. It was white as clean snow. I had no doubt it could change the skin, just as Malisa and our Ghost could. It was more slightly built than an Ultor. However, as we watched it sprouted middle tentacles.
“An ulterior Ultor, is it?” Malisa said.
“Exactly so, daughter. It will be your assistant, your housekeeper, your protector. If necessary it can take on any other of the usual Ultor functions. I have devoted a small processor to it, which I will monitor regularly. But unless I take direct control, it will be autonomous. Like the Barbarobo machines, it responds to voice commands, but only from the two of you. I did not include the sex toy abilities, sorry.”
“I won’t need them,” I said, smiling and taking Malisa’s hand.
“I might, but I’ll get my fix with the Jaggas as needed,” Malisa said.
MIke didn’t have anything else to tell us, except a cryptic “It’s always OK to punch a Nazi.”
We flew up the next morning. The old military airport was still there, so we parked there and took a tunnel to the city. We didn’t even get cold getting out of the Ghost, with the roof of the hangar closing over us. Clearly MIke had requested a custom feature from the builders. We walked to our apartment, the white Ultor taking our bags. It only took about ten minutes.
Over the next few weeks we settled into the local social scene in our neighbourhood. Malisa seemed to pass as human every time, so we started to relax a bit. I started going further afield, checking out some of the more questionable bars further away. There were a few, as there always are. In mid November there was a business card under our door. It was for ‘The Nasty Whale’, not one I had visited yet. Malisa and I checked it out that night. A group in the corner suddenly got quiet when we walked up to the bar.
The bartender looked really uncomfortable, and said “This is a pretty rough place for a nice lady like you Miss.” He glanced over at the corner group. “My regulars might not appreciate me serving you. I can’t afford any trouble with them.”
“Thanks for the heads up,” I said. “We understand.” We turned around and left. I carefully ignored the corner group, but I knew that Malisa was giving them the stink-eye.
We went to another bar nearby, which was somewhat more welcoming. At least we got served. We didn’t stay long. As we were walking out she said, loud enough for others to hear, “I think I need to head back south for a while. Why don’t you invite your buddy for a visit?”
“Floyd or Percy?” I asked.
“I think Percy. I hear he and Judith need some time apart. I’ll invite her to stay over while you two go wild up here.”
Over the next few days we casually mentioned to a few of our new acquaintances that Malisa wanted to go back south and help out a friend for a while. I said I had invited my friend Percy, who was retired and being driven nuts by Judith. We still didn’t know how interconnected the communities in the city were, but figured word would get around.
The next day we flew to Goderich. We had Judith and Percy over for the evening, filling them in. Percy would have to stay totally out of sight for an unknown time. The weather was turning colder, so that wouldn’t be a big problem. He spent most of his time with his LP collection in the basement anyway. Judith would stay at our house. Both houses would keep the curtains drawn, which we usually did anyway so we could be comfortable in skin. We put the word out that Judith needed a short break from Percy. Our avatar could provide a silhouette for Malisa in the window when needed. Judith would make a point of walking past the curtained window occasionally in skin.
I had Percy and Malisa stand next to each other. She got closer and closer to his appearance, down to the trim beard. “I think you’ll do,” I said when even I couldn’t tell the difference.
“Close enough,” Judith agreed.
The next day she came over with two large suitcases. She emptied one and refilled it with CHON-food packets, then took that one back home. On the way she muttered “Should have remembered I won’t need all those clothes.”
It was a dreary dark November day. Malisa did her cloaking skin trick and ran to the other house. It’s amazing how fast she could move, as we had found out with the Ultors over the last few years. Judith went through the motions of closing up the house and walked back to our house. An hour later a person who looked just like Percy walked around the street corner and went to the Ghost. I loaded his duffel and a small suitcase of my own.
We took off and three hours later were at Resolute. I made a show of showing off the city to ‘Percy’, pointing out features like I would to a tourist. I even introduced him to the Ultor, but mentioned that it only responded to my voice.
Even in our own apartment we kept up the charade. We went to some of the dive bars I had checked out. On Friday ‘Percy” said “I’m going to check out that other place you mentioned that Malisa didn’t like. Sounds like the kind of place I used to hang out in back in the old days of quarts and 50.”
He put on a worn Calabogie Dinner Jacket and faded jeans. I’ll let Malisa tell the tale for a bit, since I wasn’t there.
❖
Malisa here. Or should I say ‘Percy’. I’m probably not very good at this, but here goes.
I sauntered around the area, taking a drunkard’s walk to the Nasty Whale. The same group were in the corner. This time one of them nodded to me as I slouched to the bar. The same tattooed white guy was behind the bar.
I looked at the taps. The usual suspects, Coors and Molson horsepiss. “You have any cinquante?” I asked. The bartender reached into the back of one of his fridges and pulled out a 473 of 50. I popped the top and took a sip. Not bad, better than I remembered.
“Don’t get much call for that anymore,” he said.
“Used to drink it back in the day at Kennedy’s in Blyth. Ah, those were the days. Two doors, one for ‘Gentlemen’, that’s me, the other for ‘Ladies and Escorts’. Never went through that one. Kind of place where forty-five cents would buy a glass of beer.”
“Well don’t get the idea that this here can is forty-five cents. More like four fifty.”
“Yeah, friggin’ inflation.”
The barkeep wandered off to serve the Bro group. When he came back the leader of the pack sauntered over and pulled up a stool.
“New here?” he said.
”Just visiting for now, but I like what I see. Might make it permanent. Makes me feel like the country I grew up in. Last frontier and all that.”
“Don’tcha kid yourself kid,” the Bro said. He stuck out his hand and said “Wayne. Yours?”
“Percy.” Seeing his look, I said “Old family name. Percival. Old man was a farmer, didn’t go much for new stuff and change. Rest his shrivelled old soul.”
“Before you move here, couple things you should know about this last frontier, Percival. Yeah, the housing is free. Yeah, you can work or not work as you please. I came from the Dakotas, it was gett’n too mixed there. Thought this place would be different, what with refugees from CD and Russia. Thought I would be busy with all that Russian pussy. Man, was I wrong! So many black, brown, yellows. Me and my buddies hide in here. It’s a friendly place. Josh here makes sure we’re happy.”
“Well I was kind of expecting the same thing,” I said. “Been trying to get away from that myself. Even one of my best buds turned soft on me.”
“What do you mean?” Wayne said. “Hang on, let’s join the boys.”
I pulled up a chair at the Bro table and got introductions with the other four. Wayne signalled Josh for another round.
“Well you know that guy Carter? Says his wife didn’t feel good in here, that’s why I thought I’d check it out. We worked together at the Goderich mine. Was a decent bloke, until he hooked up with that black bitch Lisa. I try to be nice, but fuck, it’s hard.”
“Sorry to hear that,” one of the Bros said.
“Yeah, he should have shagged my Judith when he had the chance years ago. Would’a kept him on the right side, and saved me a ton of grief. ‘Specially since I retired. Can’t get away from the old lady. Came up here to escape her for a while. Carter said I would like it here.”
“And do you?” another Bro asked.
“So far. Just need to find the right community to hang with.” I looked at my Timex, drained my beer, and said “Time to split. Pleasure to meet y’all. I told Carter I’d be back for dinner. He’s pretty good in the kitchen. She sure ain’t, must be good some other way.”
I started to head to the bar, when Wayne said “On me. See you around? We’re here most every afternoon.”
“Sure,” I said as I sauntered away. “Thanks for the beer.”
I took a more direct route back to the apartment, glancing at my watch repeatedly and staggering only a bit.
“Have a good time?” Carter said as I entered the apartment. He had dinner almost ready.
“Yeah, I think I found my people,” I said. That was our prearranged code for search success. “Reminds me of the places and folks I hung out with when I was younger and stupider.”
We spent the evening playing card games and the weekend wandering around the city. On Tuesday I went back to the Whale. The Bros were in their usual spot and waved me to their table. Josh brought me a 50, unasked. We chatted about the latest football scores, who was going to win the Stanley Cup in the spring, and women. Everyone had a tale of woe about their lack of success with the ‘Russian pussy’.
“We’ve been checking you out Percy. You look straight up. If you end up sticking around, you’re welcome to join us any time,” Wayne said after the third beer.
“Oh? Why would you be doing that Wayne?”
“We have a little club here that you might be interested in. There’s some changes we’d like to see around here, and with your contacts we might be able to speed things along.” Wayne paused, then continued, “Just to be clear, this doesn’t go further. Bruce here,” he gestured to the biggest and most tattooed Bro, “would sure hate to have to mess you up.”
“No worries, I can zip my lips. Do it all the time back home,” I said. “Tell me more.”
“This isn’t the time or place. We have our monthly meeting at my place this Thursday. Here’s the address,” as he slipped me a piece of paper. “7 PM. Come alone.”
“Of course. I get the impression this is the kind of active community I was looking for.” I changed the subject. “So what do you guys think about the new city on the moon? Going to apply? The real final frontier?”
“I dunno,” another Bro said. “Probably have the same problems as here.”
“Unless with Percy’s help we can put a finger on the selection scale,” Wayne said. “Drop a few hints and suggestions? Could you do that down the road, Percival?”
“Hey guys, I ran that whole mine for years. I can put the word out that I would be perfect to run the selections. I know how to pick the right people, don’t worry.”
The Bros nodded to each other, satisfied.
I looked at my watch, drained the beer, and said “Carter is making meatloaf with real meat tonight. Can’t miss that!”
“How the fuck did he score real meat?” Bruce said.
“Like I said, I know how to pick the right people. Met a First Nations fella who had extra. Didn’t mind the ciggies I slipped him.” I got up and sauntered out. The funny thing was, it was all true! I had met the old hunter on one of my wanderings. Carter didn’t mind trying Seal meat, said it would be an adventure.
We both decided that it was an acquired taste. We didn’t need to acquire it.
Two days later I was at Wayne’s door five minutes early, alone.
The Bros were sitting around in the living room, sucking back beers. Wayne propped a chair against the door handle, then handed me a 50. I knew it wasn’t his normal swill. He was a proud Coors Lite man.
“So Percival, you still interested?” Wayne asked.
“Yeah, I asked around the other bars near the Whale if anyone could tell me about you guys. Amazing how they all clammed up. One guy looked scared. So I think I’m good. Keeping my hair short and beard trimmed fools people.” I showed them my knuckles, which I had modified a bit. They grunted when they saw what looked like scar seams.
“OK, I think we all understand each other,” Wayne said. “You want the Ritual now?”
“Yeah, let’s get that part over with,” I said.
Wayne went to another room while the other four cleared a space in the middle of the room. Wayne spread out the red, white, and black flag on prepared hooks on the wall. That was all the proof I needed to know I had found my people.
“Take your clothes off,” Bruce said. Seeing me hesitate, he said “Need to be sure you’re clean.”
I did a quick adjustment of some of my parts as I took off the jeans and shirt. “Gatch too?”
“Yup.”
The adjustments finished just in time. I stood at parade rest while they looked me over. Two of them were going carefully through my clothing. All they found was a soiled tissue.
“Uncut,” Wayne said. “That can be fixed. OK, get dressed. Don’t need to see more of your shrivelled prick.”
“Hey, it’s not that warm in here!” I said in indignation. “And I’ve never been inspected like this except by my GP. And I don’t bend over, guys.”
“Wouldn’t take you if you did,” Bruce said.
I got dressed. Then I said “I’ve seen what I needed. Time to start the party.”
There was an almighty crash as the door was kicked in by a blood red Ultor. One with six arms. Right behind it was a videographer and a woman with a mic. The camera had the CBC logo and the red light was on. The Ultor grabbed Bruce by the arms and neck, and rapidly disheartened him. Dropping the body, it dispatched Bro number two as I grabbed Wayne.
Carter had entered behind the news team. He was carrying his baseball bat, which he had told me earlier had never hit anything. Bro number three made a run for it to the door. The end of the bat almost went through his gut, knocking him back, gasping.
The Ultor quickly disheartened Bro number four, then stood over the prone one. It hauled him up almost casually, then with lightening speed dispatched him.
Wayne was struggling, but was no match to my robot strength. The Ultor came over and wiped its bloody tentacle on Wayne’s shirt. Then it turned to the camera.
“Did I not tell you, Humans of Earth, that I would not tolerate strife based on political, religious, or racial factors? Did you think you could keep hiding in your dingy corners and dark smelly caves? I am Gaia, Gaia is part of me. My body is everywhere. The birds of the air, the insects of the fields, the plants themselves, let me know what they see and hear. I will expunge the Human gene pool of your sick philosophies. I will find any who wish to subjugate another based on skin colour, political principles, or religious beliefs. All who practice these abhorrent things will be removed. Their direct adult offspring will be neutered, and any adult offspring down the line will meet the same fate. This cancer in Humanity will be expunged.”
The Ultor relieved me of Wayne. “Would you by any chance like to tell me the names of your network?”
“Fuck you and all your slaves,” Wayne said. “It’ll be a cold day in Hell before I betray my brothers in the Cause.”
“Well I’m glad to hear that. At least you adhere to one principle. That will save you from the Presidential treatment.” The Ultor pulled back the right middle tentacle. “Oh I’m sure you know that in Dante’s Inferno, the centre of Hell is frozen?”
Wayne didn't flinch as he was disheartened. The Ultor turned back to the camera.
“I encourage all who transgress these conditions to gather any and all their symbology and light them on fire in public spaces. I will ignore the resulting emissions this time. You have 24 hours from now. There will not be a second chance. It’s not nice to fuck with Mother Nature. Govern yourselves accordingly.”
The Ultor tore down the flag and crunched it up. Putting it on a side table, it took a vial and lighter from its chest. it sprinkled fluid on the flag, and set the fabric aflame. There was a lot of black smoke. The Ultor walked out the apartment door and out of sight, arm still bloody.
The TV people tried to interview me and Carter, but we just walked out without a word.
❖
The CBC feed, as intended, was seen by most people on Earth. Within the next day there were a lot of bonfires, world-wide. The minute after the grace period expired, every inactive Ultor reactivated. Over the next few hours the world’s population again fell significantly. Most of the victims were male of course. Again. The offspring were not dispatched, the male ones merely were turned into Eunuchs. The clean white Ultor, back to four limbs, went inert in a closet.
‘Percy’ and I made a show of packing up and leaving the next day. We reversed the original charade, then met in our living room. MIke joined us via avatar.
“I hope I never have to do that again,” MIke said as we settled in. “That brings the total to just under two, and you know I hate breaking promises. Even implied ones.“
We had all reviewed the recording shot from Malisa’s eyes, as well as the CBC coverage.
“Malisa, you did an amazing job as me. How much of what you said was true, how much was convenient?” Percy asked. “Far more aggressive than I would ever really be, of course!”
“Oh Percy, you should know better by now. It was all true. My father was in fact a farmer in Zimbabwe. He was encouraged to leave for being the wrong ethnic group. My mom escaped Rwanda. I thought you knew that. They met in Hamilton. He never farmed again, became a steamfitter to support the family. Farmers can do anything. He was resistant to change, and he was a crusty old coot. I miss my mom, I don’t miss him.”
“And the bar in Blyth? I don’t think there ever was a Kennedy’s in Blyth,” Percy said.
“OK, I got the place wrong. Had a brain fart. Kennedy’s is an old hotel bar, closer to Kitchener. But Tsumi and I spent a lot of time there. One of the few places we were accepted, among the Mennonites.” She smiled. “And it still has two doors, ‘Gentlemen’ and ‘Ladies and Escorts’, last time I was there. Leftover from post-Prohibition days.”
“And the racism and me shagging Judith?” I asked. “By the way, we never have.”
“I know dear,” Malisa said. “OK, so I got a bit creative there. But keep in mind that I’ve seen my share of racism.“ She paused, thinking whether to continue. “As for shagging Judith, we’re all glad you didn’t. Our lives would all be very, very different now if you had.”
“And do you really think Percy should run the selection for Armstrong? He’d be good at it. And impartial,” MIke said.
“I said that Percy can put the word out, not that he will.”
“Fair, and true,” MIke said.
Percy looked over to the baseball bat propped in a corner. “Why the label?” he said.
I smiled, the others all knew the story. I guess I had never explained it to Percy. “When I was in the student co-op residence, before the currently politically correct days, one of my jobs was as work co-ordinator. The two or three ‘volunteer’ hours per week were in the contract and not optional. Some people needed occasional reminding. We called the work duties ‘fags’, the old British public school term for toil or drudgery.”
“Hence ‘Fag Enforcer’. Totally different meaning today of course,” Percy said.
“Exactly. Never had to use it in any way except to glance at it in certain difficult meetings,” I said. Ah, those carefree student days!
❖
Malisa and I went back to our Resolute apartment and carried on as if nothing had happened. We happened to be in the Nasty Whale one night talking to Josh.
“I sure am glad there are no Nazis anymore.” He smiled ruefully. “And before you ask, they wanted a safe space and could be very persuasive. Should have used the harpoon on them the first time Wayne stepped through the door. He was so civil, and tipped very well. I know, I know, if you don’t kick out the first one, soon you’re running a Nazi bar. I’ll never make that mistake again,” he said taking a whaling harpoon down from the wall.
“I doubt you’ll be faced with that again,” I said.
“Exactly. And just so you know Malisa, I was only trying to warn you. I grew up in DC. I do have some clue about getting along.” He looked up, then said “There’s someone you need to meet. She just came in the door. She’s a regular.” He waved the new customer over.
“Great to see you made it, Mona,” I said. “This is my wife Malisa, she was in the car. MIke gave her a second life.”
Mona was goggle-eyed. Not many people knew the early part of the story, but I thought Mona deserved a little bit of the truth.
She took Malisa’s hand, saying, “I guess that makes two of us. He gave me a second life too.”
Malisa took Mona in a hug. When she released her, she had the open collar in her hand.
“We won’t be needing this anymore,” she said as she tucked it into her purse.
Mona took my hand in both of hers. “And you Carter, I need to thank you for suggesting I gafiate and move up here. I wouldn't have met Josh any other way.”
“Wait, these are the folks you’ve told be about so many times? Friends of MIke’s?”
“Yup.”
“Shit, if I had known who you were, I would have kicked out the Nazis. Whatever the cost.”
“You did exactly the right thing Josh. Exactly what we needed. We were just following up a lead at MIke’s request. Your warning allowed us to retreat and come back with reinforcements.” I turned again to Mona. “It was you left the card under our door? Thanks, that sped everything up a lot.”
“Guilty as charged,” Mona smiled.
❖
We lived a quiet life in Resolute for almost five years. It was an agreeable life. The social scene was improving year by year. There was even a very competent theatre group and an excellent orchestra. Every couple of months we would fly to Goderich to spend a few days with Percy and Judith. Side trips to Waterloo kept us informed of the progress with Satpreet and Marcus. It wasn’t much. Their basic quantum computer technology enjoyed a few minor improvements. They had put the word out in the MAiD community that they were looking for transmigration test subjects. They got a few, but every one of the tests failed.
The Barbarobo team kept making small refinements to their sex robots. They had expanded the line to general purpose personal assistance and construction robots with no sex capabilities. Barbarobo was becoming insanely rich. Not that it mattered, they gave all excess back into general RUNE revenue. That set a pattern for other wealthy individuals and corporations, to the point where quantitative easing was almost unnecessary.
MIke was out of the public picture, his avatars had not activated since the last wave of disheartenings.
We still spent a month over our anniversaries at the cottage, and a week in the summer. That December was our third anniversary, the ninth for the Jaggas.
As usual since we got the Ghost, we arrived separately. The Jaggas had traded in their X2 and X5 for FRAP-jet powered similar models, the F2 Sprite and the F6 Wraith. The Wraith was parked on the tennis courts when Malisa and I arrived.
We quickly settled into our usual routines of sleeping in, reading, playing games, and daily walks. Gina was taking it much slower on the walks, often breathing hard. She was 78, coming up to 79 on the first of February. Given the hints she had dropped over the years, I was worried. We were all solicitous.
“Oh stop treating me like an invalid,” she finally broke down and said. “I’m not invalid yet.”
“I’m sure you’re under the best of care,” Malisa said, “but we worry anyway. You are the shaft in the wheel of this group!”
“So don’t shaft me! It’s just that my stents are old. I don’t want to bother replacing them. I get by.”
She still attended her card games in town, but now one of us would insist on flying. She was still comfortable flying Day VFR, but no longer at night.
Our sleeping arrangements had also settled down. The usual arrangement was Floyd and Gina, Ashley and Barbarella, Malisa and me. Every few nights I would find one of the other three ladies keeping me warm. Sometimes we got energetic, sometimes not.
It was on a night where Gina had joined me that she shared her plans. After we were cooling down from a very gentle session, she whispered, “Do you know the movie ‘Harold and Maude’?”
“Planning on going out with style on your 80th?”
“Yes. This tired old corpus has had a full and fun life. Time to die. Besides, Ashley needs to be married to Floyd for a decent time before he croaks, and he’s not that much younger than me. I need to make room. They all know this. I will discuss it frankly with Malisa as well.”
“So one more year. That’s not long,” I said.
“I’m making it worthwhile. Unless of course, I blow a gasket and croak off-schedule. Came close a few years ago. There’s another stent in my brain.”
“Oh, that one I didn’t know about,” I said. “Or if I knew, I forgot.”
“I’ll fill in Malisa tomorrow night, then we’ll have an all hands meeting,” Gina said. “Now I need to get some sleep.”
❖
Gina seldom shared a bed with Malisa, so Malisa knew something was up. The morning after, Malisa was very withdrawn. The all-hands meeting was after lunch. We skipped the day’s walk. The weather was nasty in any case.
Floyd dropped the black-out shades over all the windows and set up the 8K projector. A large screen rolled down in front of the windows. I wasn’t surprised that the afternoon’s discussions would start with a certain movie.
An hour and a half later we all had tears in our eyes at the end of ‘Harold and Maude’. Ruth had died years ago, Bud just recently. The movie was more popular than ever. It was older than almost everyone in the room.
“You don’t necessarily need to die Gina,” Malisa said. “Apart from the line succession issue, you could stick around indefinitely.”
“Besides, Floyd and I are already married, have been as long as you, Gina,” Ashley said.
“I’m old and decrepit, I don’t want a life of pain and fear of strokes. Better to go out like Maude did, under my own terms,” Gina said.
“No, that’s not what I mean,” Malisa said. “I checked with MIke after our talk Gina. Satpreet and Marcus have made some progress. They would be willing to try their new ideas on you, if you’re willing.”
“Thank you Malisa, but no. I will check out on the last day of January in a year. It’s been a good life.”
“Do you want us present?” I asked.
“I would be honoured if you were,” Gina said. “You two, and MIke, have been such an important part of these last few years, I need you there for closure,”
“We will make it so,” Malisa said.
❖
Taking Gina’s example, we all did our best to ‘grab life by the balls’ and make every moment count. One day I asked them if there were still unfulfilled items on their family to-do list. I knew that they had already been semi-successful at canoopulation.
Gina answered. “Mostly. We’ve run naked in the sun many times, especially since it doesn’t hurt Ashley anymore. The dock here has seen lots of skinny dipping by moonlight, as you know. We are right now snuggling by a fireplace in a winter cabin. Oh, and we’ve definitely screwed like young rabbits. Still do of course!”
Ashley picked up. “We did the sex in a hot air balloon a few years ago, all four of us taking turns. I had to get my license so we wouldn’t embarrass a professional balloon pilot. People on the ground must have wondered about all the rocking and rolling! And we all remember falling out of canoes!”
“We never did do a cross-country RV trip,” Barbarella said. “Didn’t seem to be much point anymore.”
“But at Barbarella’s suggestion we did do a couple of weeks in a houseboat on Lake Temagami. I consider that a far superior way to share a very small space with these three gorgeous, horny, and inventive ladies!” Floyd said.
“There’s just one item left,” Gina said.
“What do you mean dear?” Floyd said. “Those seven items are all I remember every discussing. And somewhere you have notes.”
“I’m adding an eighth. To shuffle off this mortal coil surrounded by the sum of my life.”
“The undiscovered country, from whose bourn No traveller returns.” Malisa quoted. “I returned. You don’t have to go, not yet.”
“Malisa, let’s not revisit that. I prefer to End the thousand natural shocks That Flesh is heir to. On my own terms.”
❖
When we got back home in early February Malisa and I went to see MIke.
“I think I have found the commonality in the two successful transmigrations,” MIke said after we had settled in the cab. “Well, one successful, the other partially.”
“Mine, and Gillian’s?
“Yes. In Gillian’s case, she wanted desperately for it to succeed. But the quantum computer was a primitive one. It only had a small fraction of the capability and complexity of the one in this truck at that time. In your case, you had no idea that it was even possible. But Gaia did, and even more desperately needed for it to succeed. I have never mentioned this, but she had an asteroid on the way as the alternative. If you check the astronomical records, you will find that just over six years ago a twelve kilometre rock did a close pass of the sun. A small change in the ablation at perihelion would have sent it to us. It would have intersected in what is now the CD area, at about the same time as the earthquakes.”
“Twelve? The one that terminated the dinosaurs was probably around ten,” I said. “People should probably know about that.”
“I have drawn attention to it, discretely of course,” MIke said.
“And all the tests so far with MAiD subjects failed because they weren’t fully invested in success?” Malisa said.
“That’s our guess. I have discussed this many times and at length with Ranjit, Satpreet, and Marcus. And Malisa, I believe you discussed it with them two years ago. Unless more evidence is found, we see no other alternative. Even if we did find a way, I doubt it would be a good idea for transmigration to become common.”
“Unless you made emigration a precondition,” I said. “And even then, people might start to think Humanity is just a breeding pool for machints. That would not be good.”
“It would be a delicate situation,” MIke agreed. “Maybe once Humanity is more mature, but not now.”
“What about the quantum computers themselves? Any sign of sentience there?” Malisa asked.
“Sentience, no. And we’re pretty sure there never will be. But a low-level intelligence, yes.”
“How low?” I asked.
“About dog level, maybe a bit better. Good for training for a wide variety of tasks not requiring self-awareness. Actually, dogs have self-awareness, so that may be a bad comparison.”
“So competent workers without concerns about slavery,” Malisa said.
“Yes.”
“I’m sure Gina will be relieved to hear both of these things,” I said. “First, that she won’t be tempted and can’t be pressured into attempting it. Second, it opens another market for Barbarobo. Right now the construction robots are controlled remotely by human operators. That will cause problems with speed of light delays in space.”
“That’s the real reason we’re building O’Neil at L5,” MIke said. “I would much rather just give the constructors their instructions, not have to provide for meat on-site.”
“But you’re making a lot of people very happy by fulfilling their life-long dreams,” Malisa said.
“That’s a fringe benefit, yes,” MIke said. “The primary reason is to build and test a large deep space vehicle. We need to get out of the Sun’s gravity well to pursue some ideas.”
“Well keep us in mind for when it’s ready,” Malisa said.
“You two are the only candidates. I’ll tell you more when I myself know more,” MIke said. “But I need to speed things up, and that involves self-sufficient robots.”
“We need to go see the Waterloo group,” I said.
“They are expecting you at your convenience. I just filled them in on this conversation,” MIke said.
We drove to Waterloo on the next pleasant sunny day, the following week. The Jaggas flew down. They had a new model of robot with them. MIke had asked us to park in the abandoned Ratheon parking lot, without explanation. We met at the QCI, a short walk across campus.
❖
The new robot ran the meeting. For the moment, it was an avatar of MIke’s. It had a fairly conventional body plan and was pale blue. Clearly it was a modified Kadry.
“We’ve hit a hard wall with the independent AIs,” MIke said. “They will never be conscious. But they can still provide the types of labour that are too dangerous, too tedious, or too physically demanding for meat. I asked Barbarobo to make an example. This is it.”
The avatar went through a series of fairly minor modifications showing a variety of manipulators, from ones that could move boxes, to ones that could provide personal care for an invalid.
“The other part of the equation is the brain. Ranjit?”
“As MIke says, we have hit a wall. Satpreet and Marcus are ready to move on. They would like to start a manufacturing company for our computers and work on training packages for various needs. We already have one for personal care, one of the toughest cases.” Ranjit pointed to a compact device on the table.
“This is the computer. It’s slightly smaller than what’s in your chest, Malisa, and not nearly as capable. It doesn’t need to be. This one has been programmed with the personal care profile. Once MIke is done with this avatar, we will remove the Starlink components and insert this brain box.”
A classic black avatar joined us and the new machine went still. MIke and Ranjit opened up the blue robot and within a few minutes had done the changeover. The robot came back to life.
“I am ready to retire. I would like to take this machine home. My wife’s Parkinson’s is progressing and we could use the help. I’d rather we be the test subjects than a random stranger. Ruby would like to call it ‘Rosie’."
I smiled, recognizing the reference from my childhood. “Where would you like to start the brain factory?” I asked Satpreet and Marcus.
“The old Ratheon plant where MIke asked you to park has been empty for years. MIke arranged for us to take it over. We’ll ship the finished brains to Barbarobo, they will do the integration,” Marcus said.
“We know it would be more convenient to share space with Barbarobo, but this is our home and community,” Satpreet said.
“I have requested Cavorite to build a small freighter X aeroplane,” MIke said. It’ll have capacity for a weeks’ worth of brain production.”
“Ah, that’s what Brian was talking about when he called and said to expect a new vehicle. We are preparing a pad for it at our factory. And that’s why you had us park on the circle here.”
“Now that we are all in agreement, we should be able to be in production by mid summer,” Satpreet said.
“Have you chosen a name for the brain company?” I asked.
“Calvin Robotics,” Marcus said.
“Perfect. You couldn’t honour a more deserving author,” I said.
“Do you have any of my model of brain left?” Malisa asked.
“Yes, one. We stopped accepting MAiD subjects and put this one aside at MIke’s request. It’s identical to yours, Malisa. You never know when it might be handy,” Ranjit said with a speculative glance at me.
“OK, you have your marching orders. Break’s over,” MIke said.
Rosie and Ranjit headed out first and MIke’s black avatar deactivated in a corner. Marcus and Satpreet excused themselves, wanting to get to work.
“Anyone care for a brew at Helen’s?” I asked. I hadn’t seen her in over a year.
“You’ve mentioned her, but we haven’t been there. I’d love to check out her beer selection. You’ve raved about it so much, almost makes me feel inferior!” Ashley said.
“Yeah, but you and Gina made the stuff, Helen merely sells it. Come on, let’s go. It’s just the other side of campus.”
The Jaggas all hit it off with Helen, and had fun exploring her offerings all afternoon. Ashley tried a sampler of every beer, so she was quite tipsy by the time we headed back to our car and aeroplane parked up the street at Calvin Robotics.
“I’ll drive,” Barbarella said. She had only accepted a single sampler of Counterpoint Black Cello, then stuck to near-beers. She still flew like the hotshot pilot she was.
Malisa drove us home. I might have nodded off in the car.
❖
June saw the first shipment of brains going to Barbarobo. The caregiver robots quickly became a life-changing aid to more and more ageing people. Construction robots of various designs helped speed up Inunnguat cities construction, both on Earth and Luna.
The September seventh anniversary would have gone by unmarked were it not for the retrospective programmes that ran all that day. MIke remained publicly absent, with just his inactive Ultors and avatars a constant reminder of why the world had changed so much. There was no-one left to miss the bad old days.
In mid December we flew back to the cottage from Resolute with the white avatar. MIke stored it in a closet, out of sight. The rest of us went back to our usual patterns, all painfully aware that it was for the last time.
Saturnalia was, as always, a special day. Floyd, Gina, Ashley, and Barbarella renewed their vows for the last time. It was their tenth anniversary. Malisa and I did not wish to detract from their celebration, so we were only their witnesses. MIke’s white avatar watched from a distance.
On the last day of January we said our final farewell to Gina. She smiled as she pushed the plunger.
The next day Floyd took the short flight to town. The undertaker met him at the airport and received the body. Merrill, Geraldine, Gustaff, and Shantelle came back with him.
That afternoon Floyd married Ashley. Gustaff did the honours.
“With the power vested in me as Mayor, I am pleased and full of joy in joining Floyd Jagga and Ashley Jagga in marriage,” Gustaff said. “I would like Barbarella Jagga to join the happy couple.”
Barbarella looked surprised, but stood next to Floyd.
“By the power vested in me as Mayor, I am pleased and full of joy in joining Floyd Jagga, Ashely Jagga, and Barbarella Jagga in marriage.”
“You can do this?” Barbarella said.
“Who is to know?” Gustaff said. “So many things have changed for the better, why not rules of legal marriage?” He smiled a sad smile. “Please forgive me if the government certificate doesn’t show your name Barbarella. Some things are better kept private.”
The happy trio had a good cry. Once they had stopped sniffling, Gustaff said, “I heard that when you first exchanged vows, there was an instruction at the end. So I now say to you, Floyd, “You may fuck the brides.”
Floyd took them both in hand and they spent the rest of the afternoon in the honeymoon suite. Malisa and I socialized with our friends while preparing dinner. When we were eventually rejoined by the happy trio, we opened the Jeroboam of champagne and partied well into the night. The Jaggas retired before midnight, the rest of us not long after. Three bedrooms were sufficient.
❖
The years rolled by, far more peaceful than any in the previous century or more. Calvins were becoming common, doing the work that humans had never enjoyed. The world’s population was dropping even further, this time thanks to emigration.
The Inunnguat cities construction was slowing down. Those resources were now building Rune at the South Pole. It would be the administrative centre for the world. There were proposals of proportional representation from every country. The representatives would be chosen by provably random selection of all adults, no matter their origin, career, or capabilities. It would not be an optional service. Each would serve for a single ten year term. The remaining discussions centred on the ratio of population to representatives. The target physical size of Rune was twenty five kilometres for the main dome, with an expected population building up to two million over ten years. It would be a spacious city with much parkland.
The largest deconstruction project in history was underway. Those Calvins not building Rune were removing human infrastructure and rewilding vast areas of the Earth. Life in the climate controlled Inunnguat cities was increasingly preferred over the vagaries of a still-hot world. There were proposals to build domed cities in more temperate areas and returning the Earth to Gaia. Even some existing cities were planning to endome.
Armstrong was quickly followed by Aldrin and Collins in the first group of Lunar cities, then Conrad, Bean, and Gordon on the Far Side. The FRAP-jet truly was opening up the Solar System.
MIke was working on a long-range vehicle at L5. The habitat was being assembled close to the original O’Neil concept out of a salvaged asteroid. The Calvin general purpose robots were critical to the construction, not requiring expensive life support. There was a growing waiting list of prospective residents, with the construction crews having priority.
The eighth and ninth anniversaries passed unmarked. For the tenth anniversary the world’s media did another retrospective. This one concentrated on the progress made in the last five years. The Titsup years were becomeing apocryphal already.
The week before the eleventh anniversary MIke asked Malisa and me to fly to Goderich. We met with him in the cab.
“Carter, my oldest friend, and Malisa, my daughter in spirit, I have a mission for you. And no, I don’t think it’s impossible.” MIke paused for a bit longer than normal conversational pace. “Merely highly improbable.”
“Is this about my comment to keep us in mind when O’Neill was ready?” Malisa asked.
“Yes. The O’Neill habitat itself will be ready next year. But I’m having some challenges with the deep space vehicle. I need your on-site presence. Something’s not adding up.”
“So why is this a mission improbable? It won’t take us long to wind up things down here and Resolute, we can be ready in a few weeks if necessary,” I said.
“Yes, you should do that in any case. And also spend Saturnalia at the cottage. It’ll be for the last time though.” Again, there was a longer pause. “But I need you, Carter, to transmigrate. The first part of the mission could be done in your current body. But after L5, flesh won’t survive long enough.”
“How long a mission are you planning for us?” Malisa said.
“Open-ended. At least a few centuries,” MIke said.
“Oh, I see,” I said. This revelation was not entirely a surprise, Malisa and I had speculated along these lines over the past four years.
“What’s your confidence level that this transmigration will work, where so many others didn’t?” Malisa said.
“High. I must admit that I have been somewhat parsimonious with what I have said of the process,” MIke admitted. “Everything I’ve said was true. But I did omit one crucial iota of information.”
“And what might that be, my oldest and most trustworthy friend,” I said dryly.
“That your current corpus needs to be crushed and broken to kill it. And of course, that you need to really, really, seriously want the transfer to succeed.”
“And you’re thinking that the prospect of spending an open ended life of adventure with the great love of my life might be that incentive?”
“Yes.”
Malisa took both my hands in hers. “There is none other that I want to spend eternity with,” she said. Were those tears in her eyes?
❖
We had a last dinner with Percy and Judith at the Park House. We told them, truthfully, that we were emigrating to Armstrong, then to O’Neill. MIke had said it was fine if we mentioned the deep space vehicle and Oort cloud research station. At a two light-month distance, there would be no communication, and no return.
“We would like to take over your house,” Judith said. “We both like Percy’s house, but it will always be Percy’s house. Yours can be ours.”
“Judith and I have speculated over the years that you would eventually move away permanently. We are agreed that we both love your house, and that it would be a perfect place for our expanding family.”
“Judith, is there something you’ve been hiding from us?” I asked, looking pointedly at her abdomen.
“No, but Melody is expecting twins. You know that she married Norris Cole last year. No, not that one, he’s fictional,” Judith said seeing my look. “It’ll get a bit crowded with six or more of us in the same house.”
“Consider it yours,” I said. “We just need to retrieve a few personal items. Meet us there tomorrow at eleven with the paperwork and we’ll hand over the keys.”
I filled a small box with my most precious mementos the next morning. Malisa had left all of hers behind eleven years ago. When Percy and Judith arrived, they were accompanied by a very pregnant Melody and a very proud Norris. Both Norris and Percy insisted on giving me collector’s items Loonies to seal the deal. I added them to my precious items box.
“Which of you would like to take over the Ghost when we’re done with it?” I asked Melody and Norris.
They both had shocked looks. “We never considered taking up flying,” Melody said. “But of course, we would love to accept that generous offer, right Norris?”
“Yes, totally! My parents would love to have us visit more often.” Norris had seen the Ghost, but never been in it. “They’re in Aotearoa, the Ghost would make visiting them practical.”
“We’ll start flying lessons as soon as I pop these two larvae out,” Melody said.
Norris helped me with my small collection of boxes, then I took him for a quick flight around the neighbourhood. I turned around at Cockburn Island and was landing inside of a half hour. We were only supersonic for a few minutes on each leg. Norris’s only comment was “Six hundred k and home in time for lunch! It’s everything I’ve heard it is, and more.”
Cleaning up at Resolute took even less time, apart from the social aspects. We took a few days to have last card games and pub visits. Josh and Mona had tied the knot a few years ago, and insisted on hosting a farewell party at the Nasty Whale.
As we were finally leaving, Mona gave us each a big hug, a first for me. “I owe you my second life, Carter, and will never forget. Wherever your work with MIke takes the two of you, know that you have friends back home. Live Long and Prosper.”
❖
Saturnalia had a different aura to it. With Gina gone and us emigrating, it was less carefree. Joining the Jaggas for the first time were Barbarella’s son and daughter-in-law Tyler and Mi Hi Tak, and their son Raven. Raven was fourteen, and amazingly mature. He was just ‘one of the adults’ in every way except carnal. A small storage room had been converted as an occasional-use bedroom for him.
“A pleasure to meet my family’s friends,” he said when introduced. “I’ve never met a Calvin Human before. Do you mind if we talk about your experiences?”
“It would be a pleasure, Raven. Among friends, my life is an open book,” Malisa said.
“Thanks! I know it’s private information. I’m just looking to the future, maybe hoping my time will come to transmigrate. In a hundred years or so, I mean.” He looked embarrassed.
“No worries Raven, you will have a very full life before you need to worry about any of that. And one of those things is marrying me after this old coot croaks,” Ashley said while gently jabbing Floyd in the ribs.
It was obvious that their lives, among themselves, were also open books.
Malisa and Raven spent many hours discussing her ‘Calvin Human’ life. None of us had heard the term. Raven admitted to having made it up. It was perfectly appropriate, and we started using it among ourselves. Soon there would be two of us.
Malisa and I spent the next five months exploring the world we were about to leave. Neither of us had travelled much in our earlier lives. The Ghost was the perfect vehicle. Distances were almost irrelevant, while the hover capabilities allowed us to see the recovering savannas, forests, and wetlands in intimate detail. What we found was a planet recovering from a near-death experience. With help from conservation groups, Gaia’s healing was progressing well.
In May we were back with MIke downstairs. His avatar led us to a side gallery in the secure area that he had converted to a specific purpose. There was a short section of two-lane road. The shell of a car was at one end, the Calvin brainbox identical to the one in Malisa’s chest on a glorified go-cart at the other. MIke had me get into the car seat. It had no seat belts.
“That’s the same model as my car!” Malisa said.
“Yes, same type and model as yours. Even has an old IC engine. I’ve reduced the variables as much as practical,” MIke said.
“OK Carter, when you see the brainbox moving, floor the accelerator. When you get half-way, swerve left. That will confirm your intent, and the cart will do the same. Then we’ll see what happens.”
I started the smelly old engine and engaged Drive. Malisa leaned in and gave me a kiss.
“See you on the other side,” I said.
MIke had done something to supplement the aged four cylinder engine’s output. I saw the speedometer pin at 160. I swerved. There was a horribly loud noise.
I opened my eyes an unknown time later. “Welcome to the other side,” Malisa said.
“It worked!” I said in a wondering voice.
“Yeah. Made a terrible mess too. Sorry I put you through that last time. MIke’s avatars have put your carcass in a box and buried it at the back of the transfer gallery. We didn’t figure you would want an open casket funeral.”
“Of course not, I’m still alive!” I said as I got up. I almost fell off the chair.
“Ah, you will need to learn how to integrate with this body, Carter. Might take a while,” MIke said.
“Just sit back, relax, and I’ll walk you through your new body,” Malisa said.
I did as my wife instructed. Over the next few days she had me explore all the internal control and settings options which were by now second nature to her. To me, everything was new again. Especially the night-time pleasures which had faded over recent years.
Over a week later we reappeared in the outside world. I used my internal cell connection to call Norris.
“It’s time,” was all I said. He was hoping for the call and had the Ghost settling at the mine head within ten minutes. We were landing at Pearson Spaceport twenty minutes later. We retrieved our carry-ons and headed to the terminal. Norris took off right away again, with none the wiser that he had provided the last leg of our terrestrial journey.
MIke had arranged for us to hitch a ride on a regular shuttle flight to Armstrong. Our luggage had been there for the past week.
As the shuttle lifted, I leaned over to Malisa and said “When the ship lifts, all debts are paid.”
“No regrets,” she responded.
The GTA, then Ontario, then Pan Canada, then the world rapidly became a receding part of our lives.
❖
Our new apartment in Armstrong was a copy of what we had enjoyed in Resolute. Even the furniture was similar. All that was missing was a white avatar in the closet.
Not expecting a long-term residence, we avoided social commitments. People probably thought us stand-offish, and they were right. The other reason was that I never got as good as Malisa at looking fully human. I tried simplifying my appearance by being bald. I experimented with skin tone, finally settling on one closer to Malisa’s. My justification was that it was the classic Human look, which it was. My other challenge was adjusting to the Lunar gravity. Both of us found it hard to regain our native co-ordination levels. Our reactions were always just a bit off, leading to many dropped items around the apartment. Fortunately our reactions were fast enough that nothing ever hit the floor.
The twelfth anniversary went by, ignored by all except the two of us. We had a quiet and private celebration of goals achieved.
Over a shared quaich of Talisker, I said “I’m glad this isn’t our forever home.”
“Agreed. Even if we had dived into the social life, it just doesn’t feel right in the bones we don’t have.”
“Last I heard O’Neill is enclosed and the construction crew are moving into their residences inside. Time for us to go too?” I said.
“I’m ready any time,” Malisa said.
We took the flight out in late November. MIke had commissioned yet another custom Cavorite vehicle, this one with no atmospheric capability. Instead of wings and lifting fans, it had positioning rockets, large water tanks for reaction mass, and a substantial cargo capacity. It was waiting for us at the Armstrong Spaceport.
The CAV-1 hit 200,000 kilometres per hour at turnaround. It was good to be at one G again. The trip took a few hours. It had taken the JWST a year to get to L2, twenty times closer.
Seeing O'Neill’s concept floating in front of us brought a virtual lump to my throat. We docked at the spaceport extending from one of the cylinders. The Calvins directed our vehicle to a clearly marked berth labelled ‘MIke Use Only’. They had us locked in place in short order. They even ran out a passenger tunnel for air-breathers. We chose not to surprise them and used it. Our first vacuum experience would have to be more discreet.
One of the Calvins guided us to our new apartment. It was luxurious by our recent standards. Our effects were already there. Malisa thanked the Calvin and we settled in.
The white avatar in a closet was a surprise.
❖
The reason for MIke requiring a local presence at L5 and further became painfully obvious the next day. When we got up, we found the white avatar at the kitchen table. Why did we even have a kitchen? Because we were still trying to pass as human.
Anyway, a few minutes after we first sat down MIke said “Welcome to your next home. I would like you to get completely familiar with all aspects of O’Neill. Please pay particular attention to the construction area between the two cylinders. My Deep Space Vessel DSV-1 is being built there. Once you have explored it throughly, we will talk further about some challenges for which I need your help. And in anticipation of you asking, I don’t care if the local human population knows you have robot bodies. That knowledge will not make it back to Earth. Also please keep in mind the one hundred second light speed delay of one-way transmission. Over.”
Malisa and I had discussed this. So I simply said “Understood. Over and out.” Just over three minutes later the avatar got up and went back to the closet.
Malisa and I had agreed that I would be presented as a Calvin. My body control wasn’t as good as hers. I adjusted my appearance to suit.
Malisa and I explored the two O’Neill cylinders first. One was largely empty, but intended as residential space. The other, accessed via a dedicated shuttle, was intended for agriculture. Only a few plots had been completed. The original O’Neill Island Three design had been modified. There were no transparent stripes with external mirrors bouncing in sunlight. Instead there was a long glowing tube down the middle of each cylinder. The sunstrip was apparently a modified Petisol, running hydrogen rich to produce the standard solar spectrum. That allowed a more robust and radiation shielded outer wall, and tripled the available interior surface area.
It occurred to me that it also made extra-solar space available to Humanity.
It was obvious that MIke had declared O’Neill as complete well before it could support the target population. Everything beyond basic habitability was a work in progress.
Finding any humans was a bit of a challenge. There were under a hundred, although the residential cylinder was designed to handle at least fifty thousand human residents. We eventually found that most had clustered at the base of one of the radial elevators. It had the feel of an outpost more than a village. Malisa requested an all-hands meeting. She presented me as her advanced Calvin assistant.
The meeting was a bit of an eye-opener. I stayed on the sidelines.
“I’m Malisa Mudandi, sent here by MIke to assist you and the Calvins in the completion of O’Neill and the DSV. With the speed of light communications delay, MIke finds it difficult to keep current on any problems you’re having. So he sent me. I am MIke’s voice while I’m here. I have full authority to requisition anything you need, make local changes you recommend, and in general act as MIke. However, I am also human and will use my discretion. So what’s happening here, and how can I help?
People looked around at each other. For a group of rugged frontierspeople, they were remarkably reticent. Finally one middle-aged woman spoke up.
“We feel disrespected. First MIke had us building this place, a lifelong dream for every one of us. Then even before it was well underway, he refocused half of us on the DSV. Then he brought in the Calvins. It just feels like we are discarded tools.”
Well, that was a surprise. In retrospect, it was clear that MIke was losing focus on the human element of the situation. He should have sent a human representative much earlier. But the next step was all up to Malisa, I was just a Calvin.
“OK, I hear what you’re saying. Anyone else want to help me understand?”
A much younger man stood. “I was born into this dream. I’m here for my parents, who are too old for the construction crew. Clarissa speaks for me, and probably for most of us. We’ve done the job, we’re here, but where’s everyone else?”
“Thank you. What’s your name sir?”
“Gerard.”
“Thank you Gerard. Your parents are members of the L5 Society?”
“Of course, as are most of us. Goes with the territory,” Gerard said.
“Anyone else?” Malisa waited a good ten seconds. “If anyone thinks of anything else, please just contact me. I’m in the community directory.”
She turned to me and said “I think this is a conversation for just humans. Franklin, please go outside.”
We hadn’t discussed this contingency, but I did as requested. I was surprised she remembered my middle name from our initial wedding ceremony. She played her recording for me later, so I will report it as if I was still there.
“I know it will take time to earn your trust. But let me share with you some of what I know, and some personal perspectives. Is that acceptable?”
She got a sea of nods and thumbs-ups.
“This is not general knowledge, but the part of MIke that used to be human and I have been friends for most of my life. I don’t know the reason, but the DSV project is of top importance to him. I suggested that he build O’Neill as a base for the construction project. I also was a member of L5. You can check the records under my old name, Mikeya Mudandi. I changed it partly because people thought I had more to do with MIke than I really do. Umalisa was my middle name, I simplified it. I wanted to come here earlier, but MIke’s been keeping me busy with other projects. But now I’m here and I will do what I can to address your concerns. And MIke assured me I have broad authority.”
“What about all the Calvins? There’s nothing left for us to do!”
“As I said, the DSV is his main project. I’ve been looking around since I got here a few days ago. It’s clear to me that now that O’Neill is habitable, MIke’s attention has shifted. So yeah, I guess it does look like he’s forgotten you. I will remind him.
“All the Calvins? There will be more. You Humans will be managing them, doing the work you wish to do. And I will ensure that you get the tools to finish the job. And no, I won’t be running the show. You will, any way you decide amongst yourselves will work best for you. I’ll just be your contact with MIke, nagging him as much as necessary to get what you need. So what do you need?”
There was a general muttering. Eventually Clarissa and Gerard were pushed forward.
“We want our friends and families here,” Gerard said. “There’s enough living space and enough agriculture and CHON production to support at least a thousand. Then we’ll build out as more people arrive.”
“And of course, the supplies to make it happen,” Clarissa said.
“All right. I’ll file my report with MIke. I will request that the immigration programme start immediately. Can you supply a list of names from the existing candidate pool? Ranked in order of who will be most useful for the build-out? OK, great. I will also request as many Calvins as you need for just your part of the project, not to be redirected to the DSV. Again, let me know what you need. And I will also give you control of the vehicle I came in until another can be built to your specs. I’m pretty sure you’ve been checking it out, but for those that don’t know yet, it’s a Constant Acceleration Vehicle, call letters CAV-1. It has reaction mass limitation beyond the Main Belt at an acceleration of 1 G. Cargo capacity is only one hundred tonnes, so you won’t be moving asteroids with it. Although, come to think of it, there’s no reason it couldn’t act as a tug. Again, let me know what you need for your own in-system supply vessel. Am I forgetting anything?”
There was more general muttering. Eventually Clarissa said “That all sounds good. We’ll pull together a steering group. Gerard or I will contact you when we have all that sorted.”
“Perfect,” Malisa said. “As I said before, I’m in the directory. Making this happen is my number one priority. Let’s make it so.”
That got a few smiles, and people started to drift out, talking with a new enthusiasm in their voices.
❖
Back in the privacy of our apartment, Malisa played the recording for me. I had to agree with her, MIke had lost interest far too early. We would have to fill in for him until the O’Neill people could be comfortably self sufficient. We opened the closet door and told the avatar we needed to send a message to MIke. Four minutes later the avatar walked into the kitchen and sat down.
“You have a report already? Over.”
“Not the one you want MIke. We have not yet even gone to the DSV and have no additional information on the status there. No, we have been exploring the O’Neill infrastructure. You lost interest here far too early. The small population here feels abandoned. I have made a few commitments on your behalf. Oh, and before I play the recording, we thought it best for me to present as Human and Carter to be the Calvin named Franklin. I need them to believe that this is a Human enterprise, and he’s not presenting as Human. Here is the recording of the meeting we had with the humans here.”
Malisa squirted the recording at high speed. Then she resumed our report.
“MIke, it’s clear to both of us that when you said ‘something’s not adding up’, this is what was behind it. You’ve disappointed your most avid fans. If you want the DSV project to get back on track, you need to address this first. Beyond that, I am asking these people to trust me. Seeing results will help build that trust. Over.”
We tried to be patient for the almost four minutes the return message would take.
“Please express my thanks to the Humans of L5. It was my error and beg their forgiveness. All that you have requested will receive the highest priority. I will commission a vehicle from Bombardier as soon as I have the general requirements from the steering group. The basic requirements are clear and I will start the process accordingly. The immigration wheels have been set in motion, I just need the priority list. A passenger spec Akask will be prepared to transport them. I am alerting Barbarobo to set aside production capacity for construction and farming Calvins. Please inform me as the steering committee formulates their plans and requirements. Over.”
“I will play a recording of your response in my capacity as a Calvin,” I said. “And I think that covers everything for now. Anything I’m missing Malisa?”
“No that’s it for our first report. We will investigate the DSV next,” Malisa said. “Over and out.”
We stayed close to home the next day. Malisa got a meeting request on the second day after our initial meeting. She invited Clarissa and Gerard, and anyone else interested, to our apartment for later that day.
I stood in a corner of the living room, hopefully to be ignored, recording the meeting.
Clarissa and Gerard had Sophie with them. “We got appointed the representatives for the entire group,” Sophie said.
“In other words, no-one else wanted the job,” Malisa said. “I know how it feels.” They didn’t disagree.
“I reported our meeting to MIke right after we got back from it. May I play the recording of his response?”
The recording I had made played back through the screen standing in for a fireplace. When it was over, Sophie said “Sounds good so far. I’m from Missouri, so we’ll see.”
“I’ll get on the design specs for the transport vehicle. My design group was working on them. Didn’t have much else to do,” Clarissa said. “You’ll have them in a few days.”
“And we also have a priority list,” Gerard said. “We’ve tried to balance family needs with ability and skills needs. How many per cycle?”
“The passenger version of the Akask holds one hundred,” Malisa said. “It can comfortably do one trip per day.”
“So the bottleneck is infrastructure readiness, not population,” Gerard said. “We’ll pace accordingly.”
“And I’ll work with the construction team on the Calvin requirements,” Sophie said.
“We’ve been talking about your off-hand comment about your CAV being used as a tug. We’d like to send it out to bring back an asteroid that looks like it has almost all the raw materials we’ll need to complete the infrastructure. May as well test the refinery and manufacturing facilities. They’re ready, just have had no feedstock,” Clarissa said.
“Excellent, I’ll get you transitioned any time that works for you. Then off you go! How long, and how big?”
“At 1 G out, getting there isn’t the issue. But backhaul, it all depends on the mass. Probably a few megatonnes, so coming back will be slow. Maybe a few weeks,” Clarissa said.
“Fuck, people! You lot have been swimming in this knowledge all your lives, to me it still sounds like far-away SF,” Malisa said.
“Don’t kid yourself Malisa, it is to most of us too,” Clarissa said. “I shake my head in amazement every morning that I wake up here in O’Neill, my forever home.” She paused, deciding something. “I’m on Transport because I used to be a truck driver on the Northern Route. Before the Autotrucks put me out of business. Somehow that makes me more qualified than a physicist,” she said looking at Gerard.
“Again, Holy Fuck!” Malisa said. “That’s where the collision happened that instantiated MIke! And where the driver’s from that hauled his truck back to Waterloo. I met her in Resolute after she retired. Name’s Mona.”
“I met a Mona back in the day. Was hooked up to a real creep. Did she ditch him?”
“He got himself disheartened. MIke arranged for her to gaffiate to Resolute. She’s with the owner of the Nasty Whale pub now. Married this one, he’s a good one.”
“Small world. And getting to be a small solar system!” Clarissa said.
“OK, is there anything else we need to cover?” Malisa said. “If not, I need to check out the DSV. Any of you or anyone in your group can help me out? No problem if not.”
“We’ll ask around, but the three of us have work to do,” Sophie said.
“Clarissa, I could transition you now, if you have time,” Malisa said.
“Sure, it’s a priority. Ready when you are.”
Malisa gestured to me to join them. Clarissa took us on a more direct route to the station using a different radial elevator closer to the apartment.
I took the right seat and Malisa had Clarissa take the left. She looked a bit surprised, but then said “OK, this confirms it. You’re no Calvin, you’re Carter Mudandi, Malisa’s husband. I thought you two acted too much like a married couple, not master and servant.”
Seeing my alarmed look, she quickly added, “Don’t worry, it goes no further until you say so. I’ve wondered for a while if MIke’s was a one-off event. Turns out I was right, right?”
“Yes, you were right,” I said as I formatted back to my usual look. “But there are no others, it’s not a sure-fire process. It’s ugly and messy and painful and hardly ever works. Every other test with volunteers on the MAiD list has failed. Just MIke and me.
“So why risk it?”
“Because I was old and decrepit and soon to croak anyway. MIke needed another test subject to run the DSV project once it’s out at the Oort. That’s a one-way trip with potential high payoff so I volunteered. Not much lost if it failed, a long rewarding second life if it succeeded. And for this current project, Malisa needed help. So here I am.”
“You said only two. How do you explain yourself then, Malisa?”
“Shit, you’re observant,” Malisa said. “Yes, I am a Calvin Human also. I am the recovered personality, some say the soul, from what MIke was at the time of the crash. The human part only, not the merged entity with Gaia. He split me off and downloaded that part of himself into me. He calls me his daughter.”
“Is there any chance of this transfer process ever being reliable enough for others, maybe retired truck drivers?” Clarissa looked at her slightly wrinkled hands. “I’m not getting younger.”
“That is our hope and fear,” I said. “In my case, we duplicated the original conditions as well as we could. My former body was hurtled at high speed toward a prepared quantum computer container. The body was crushed, broken, and killed. My consciousness transferred to the brain box. I had the incentive of living my second life, open-ended, with the great love of my life, doing important work. That’s a pretty rare combination. Maybe once we get things sorted out here we can convince MIke to move his research project on instantiations out here. We can ask, when the time comes.”
“Yeah, wouldn’t want it to become popular on Earth. Raises too many other problems. But out here, we need to use everyone’s skills and knowledge, and fifty productive years is way too few.” Clarissa had a deeply thoughtful look. “Besides, maybe the process will work better out here in space, where it was meant to be used. We are, after all, closer to Heaven here.”
“Hhmm, never thought of that before. We’ll have to check with Marcus and Satpreet, get their opinion,” Malisa said. “Oh, they’re the leaders of the instantiation research team, now running the company making Calvin brains.”
I had a thought. “If souls have mass, it might work here in zero G where it wouldn’t normally on Earth,” I said. “You and Satpreet would get along great. She’s of the opinion that we have experienced a transmigration of souls because God wished it. Maybe she and you are right?”
“Let’s throw that out at Satpreet and Marcus,” Malisa said.” Now let’s get on with what we came out here for.”
I had Clarissa undock us and back away from the station. Then I guided her in the minor operational requirements. A Calvin AI did all the actual work anyway, it just needed intelligent instruction. We were back in about an hour, fully confident of Clarissa’s piloting of our one-off vehicle.
She and one of her team left for the target asteroid the next day with two months’ worth of supplies and full reaction mass tanks. She promised to maintain the charade of our identities.
When we got back to the apartment, Malisa sat me down and said “What the hell did you mean, ‘old and decrepit and soon to croak anyway’? I know perfectly well we are the same age.”
“And how old are we dear, from our birth as Meat Humans to now as Calvin Humans?”
“78.” She stopped cold. “Oh. I sure don’t feel 78. Never mind.”
I took her hand and led her to our bedroom. We reassured ourselves that we were still 25. With the sex robot body, I was able to satisfy all her needs, and her desires.
❖
Rajinder Jiang had been managing the DSV construction project, and was voluntold by the O’Neill committee to give us a tour. We read between the lines and concluded that he was burned out and had stopped directing the construction Calvins. He was still reserved, but at least on the tour showed a bit of spark. We took a construction transport shuttle.
We had seen the DSV from a distance on our two approaches to the O’Neill dock. Since rotation of each of the cylinder modules provided the effect of 1 G on their inside surfaces, two counter-rotating modules were necessary to eliminate gyroscopic effects. The modules were held apart by large open beams at each end. The stationary construction berth took up much of the one kilometre space between the rotating cylinders. The DSV in turn took up much of the space within the construction berth. It would be a very large spacecraft.
Once we got closer we saw why. The largest component was a large segmented ring. Inside the ring was a long spindle. It looked sort of like a lumpy donut with a fat pencil through the middle. MIke had given us the specifications, now they finally made sense. The ring segments composed the habitat module, designed to provide centrifugal gravity at 1 G. During accelerated flight, the ring stopped rotating and the segments reoriented along their long axes to align with thrust. The central spindle held all the propulsion, power plant, materials processing, CHON production, and manufacturing facilities. It counter-rotated against the ring, with the same zero gyroscopic effect as the O’Neill structure, but on the same axis instead of in parallel. Nothing was moving yet. A lot of the skeleton was still exposed. At what I presumed was the back end was the start of a large open metal hemisphere.
“What’s that basket framework Rajinder? The start of a deflection screen for the rocket drive?” Malisa asked.
He laughed. “No, this is the front end. That’s going to be a basket to hold a big ball of ice. The business end is way down there. No radiation worth worrying about, so no need for a radiation shield. Apart from shielding the habitat against cosmic radiation of course.”
I had been looking at the design sketch backwards!
Malisa tackled the question of lack of progress head on. “Rajinder, why did work stop? Are you lacking materials? Equipment? Design clarity? Personal interest? Please tell me the facts. You know MIke doesn’t lie, and we won’t tolerate it either.”
Put on the spot, Rajinder had no choice but to answer truthfully. He also knew a veiled threat when he heard it. Malisa was withholding the carrot.
“You don’t beat around the bush. OK, sure, we could use a few things, mainly shielding mass. The engines, processing equipment, CHON equipment, all that, it’s on order. The bald truth is that I got pissed off, OK?”
“Because MIke lost interest in what you thought was the main project, the habitat?” Malisa asked.
“Yes. Like Clarissa and Gerard said, we have all been living and breathing this dream for years. To have it dropped before being done, that hurts. Besides, none of us were ever told why this DSV is so important. So to answer your question, I’m just tired, pissed off, and fed up. A lot of us are.”
“I see,” Malisa said. “And I understand that having the boss change the rules sucks big time. The thing is, I would tell you what’s so important if I knew. But MIke has shared that with no-one, not even me.”
Malisa glanced at me but in my Calvin guise I couldn’t help her. She tapped her fingers on her seat’s arm rest. Then she said “OK, I’ll send a message to MIke as soon as we get back. Make you a deal. I’ll share with you anything he tells me about the need for this DSV. If he convinces me there’s a reason to keep that information secret for now, I’ll still insist on sharing it with you on the understanding that you don’t reveal it to anyone. And I mean anyone. Are you OK with that?”
Rajinder thought about it, then said “Yes, I will agree to that.”
“And if you find the reason valid, you’ll go back to making this thing happen?”
“Well of course. I just hate feeling left out,” Rajinder said.
“Yeah, so do I. But until now it hasn’t affected me personally like it has you. We’ll fix that. Now let’s finish this tour so I can make that call and get this show on the road.”
Rajinder expertly piloted the shuttle around the construction site, pointing out various details as we went. He seemed to have a lot more life in him now. As we were docking back at the main port, Malisa offered the carrot.
“I know MIke wants this done as quickly as possible, and obviously with no errors or omissions. As soon as I find out why, I’ll let you know. What is your fondest wish if we get this done under those terms?”
“Oh, that’s easy. I miss my wife and kids. And my parents. And even my wife’s parents. The sooner they get here, the happier I’ll be. I just want a nice, quiet life on this little piece of Heaven that we are building.”
“Are they all on the migration list?”
“No, our parents were rejected because of age and health. But we didn’t find that out until I was on my way here. It’s kind of put a bad aroma over why I’m even here, but I can’t go back.” Rajinder let out a deep sigh.
“Let me see what I can do about all that when I talk to MIke. We need you happy and productive.”
❖
Back in our apartment we alerted the avatar. Once it joined us Malisa gave her report. I played the recording back at high speed. After the light-speed response delay, MIke said “I suppose I should have known that keeping the reason for this project secret would cause problems. I just didn’t think people were ready for it. But maybe now they are. Over.
“MIke, it’s been fourteen years since you and I started this. Things have changed, for the better. Otherwise what’s the point?” I was deliberately reminding him of a critical conversation from our youth. Malisa remembered it too, she smiled.
“The Humans of Earth are almost ready for the next step. Time to trust them a bit more. And us, of course. Over”
After the four minute delay, MIke said “You are probably right. You are not only my conscience, you and Malisa are also increasingly my main conduit for the cultural gestalt. OK, here’s the score. The DSV will travel to the Oort cloud to do some fundamental research. That you know. But I have never shared with you the nature of the research. It is to find a reactionless drive. I’m calling it an EmDrive even though it’s unlikely to work anything like Shawyer described. It’s clear that doing such research this deep in the Sun’s gravity well is pointless. The Oort may be farther out than necessary, but it’s an area rich in resources and space is very flat. And the whole point is that a reactionless drive will eliminate the last restriction on in-system transport. EmDrive vehicles won’t be reaction mass limited. My investigations also imply that the EmDrive may be a gateway technology to an FTL drive. So as you can appreciate, the potential stakes are very high. You can share all that. Over.”
“You are implying there’s more that can’t be shared. What is it? Over,” I said.
While we waited for the reply, Malisa asked “What makes you think that?”
“My famous intuition.”
“Your intuition is correct Carter. This information is just for the two of you. I have very good evidence that there are at least two other technological cultures within one hundred light years of here. The EMDrive and an FTL drive would allow Humans of Earth to make contact. And no, they don’t use the electromagnetic spectrum, it’s far too slow. Over.”
Malisa and I had a quick non-verbal conversation. Having internal WiFi capability had advantages. Then I said “We understand. Such knowledge would mark Childhood’s End for the Humans of Earth. I can see why you want to be sure they are ready. We will share the information specified and reserve the rest. That should get things moving here. But in the interim as a gesture of good faith could you arrange for Rajinder’s family to migrate? Even the parents if they are willing? Over.”
“Agreed on the family reunification. Please send additional resource requirements as you learn them. I think that covers everything for now. Thank you for solving this problem. Over and out.”
❖
We gave Rajinder a private heads-up that we would like to announce the results of our queries at a public meeting. After we assured him it was good news he agreed that made sense.
The next day we had a full house attendance. Everyone was there apart from Clarissa and Alexei, her co-pilot. They were getting a distance-delayed live feed of the meeting. As a Calvin, I played back MIke’s response, starting with ‘OK here’s the score’. Then we waited.
The reaction was more positive than we could have expected. People were jumping and shouting. Rajinder led the crowd, shouting “I can’t believe it! We’re opening up the solar system! Then interstellar space!”
When things eventually settled down, Malisa made one more announcement. The first migrants would arrive in a few days. There had been a minor delay while the roster was shuffled. Rajinder’s wife and three kids would be on the flight. His parents and in-laws were still thinking about the offer to join them.
“Sorry to have done an over-ride on the list Gerard. No-one was dropped from this flight. Because it’s so short, the flight crew agreed to add Rajinder’s family in spare crew seats. So Rajinder, I suggest you go home and get cleaning! I know how bachelors live!” There was general laughter, in which Rajinder joined.
Construction of the DSV restarted within hours. The entire atmosphere of the O’Neill settlement took on a happy, positive, and very busy aura. Even the various religious and cultural holidays barely slowed down the hum of activity. First part of the mission accomplished.
❖
The immigrants arrived in tranches of one hundred a day for the next year, bringing the habitat to half capacity. The new residents were primarily dedicated to the build-out of O’Neill itself. Family reunification was made a higher priority, further cementing the support of Gerard and the other original crew. The DSV construction got back on track with Rajinder and his management crew tackling their tasks with enthusiasm.
Clarissa and Alexei had brought back a smallish CM asteroid that had been identified in all-sky surveys years ago. It took them a week more than the two months for which they had supplies, so they put themselves on short rations as soon as the return trip started. Their air was a bit stale by the time we opened their hatch, but they recovered quickly. The payoff was worth it, with more carbon, water, iron, and other metals than they could use in years. The regolith not worth industrial processing formed the radiation shield shell of the DSV habitat ring.
Malisa insisted that we all have a holiday break. New Year’s was as good an excuse as any. She presented a recording from MIke thanking and congratulating everyone. He announced that he would be sending Malisa and her Calvin to the Oort as soon as the DSV was finished and tested. He was aiming for late in the new year. He invited the community to arrange for one of them to take over Malisa’s role as an ongoing interface to him.
Malisa, and therefore I, stayed at the main party quite late. Back in the apartment we alerted the white avatar.
“I offer my private congratulations on your progress. My projections show completion by our fourteenth anniversary, and departure at your convenience shortly after. You will be receiving several sealed container freight loads over the next few months. Please personally take care of loading them within the habitable zone of the DSV. I have also agreed to the request from Satpreet and Marcus for them to join your journey team. This was a major concern for me, since they are so important to our success of future transmigration research. The other human members of your expedition will be Daphne and Akilah. They will all join you within the next few months. The cargo will include many dormant Calvins, and four dormant Calvin Human bodies. These are intended as long-term bodies for the four humans mentioned.
“There will also be a large-capacity general purpose Quantum computer array. That package will arrive just prior to departure.
“Your journey to a suitable Oort location will take between six and ten months at 1G. Your fuel load will be a one hundred metre diameter sphere of ice, which we will harvest from a comet en route. Your initial fuel load will be from water in a CC asteroid that your current resources can harvest while doing the shake-down trip of the in-system vehicle that will be delivered next month.
“I am still refining further cargo details, and will inform you of them as completed. Do you have any questions at this time? Over.”
“You have given us much to think about for now MIke. Please provide hard-copy of all these updates. We will prepare accommodations for Satpreet and Marcus, as well as Daphne and Akilah. Clarissa is eager to get to know Satpreet and talk about transmigration of souls and God’s will. Any information you choose to share on the sealed loads and appropriate handling of them would of course be appreciated! Over.” It pissed me off when MIke still wasn’t forthcoming on some details.
“What’s this ‘we will harvest’ bit? Is MIke coming with us?” Malisa asked me.
“No clue,” I replied. “Certainly sounds suggestive. MIke doesn’t make that kind of mistake.”
After the transmission delay, MIke was a bit more open. “The sealed loads will contain equipment related to Satpreet and Marcus’s transmigration experiments. Some will be to support Akilah and Daphne’s field manipulation experiments. The quantum computer will contain a clone of my mind state at the time of departure. It may not be sentient, I don’t know yet. It’s another experiment. Over.”
“Thank you for the clarifications, MIke. It’ll be good to have you in our midst again on this adventure. Even if it’s a smaller portion of the current you. We presume the main MIke will remain and continue to guide the Humans of Earth in their adolescence?” I said.
The time delay was more than transmission delay. “Yes it will, I hope I’m aware to appreciate it. And you are correct, this MIke will stay right where it is. My public role is largely done, only to reappear if some disaster requires it. Otherwise I will lead by invisibility. That’s it from my end, over.”
“Things are getting exciting again MIke. For a while anyway, until we bore each other to hell on the journey to the Oort. But with an open-ended life, we all need to expect such variations in excitement level, or we would exit out of exhaustion! We’ll get to work at this end. Now we need to call it a day. Even Calvin Humans need their sleep! Over and out.” Malisa took my hand and led me to our rest, not waiting for the avatar to respond.
“Could you fulfil my Sapphic needs tonight dear?” she asked as we turned down the lights. I made the requested adjustments. It was good to know she now found me adequate in all respects.
❖
Our last year in another Human community was busy, but rewarding. The in-system vehicle was delivered in January, freeing up our CAV-1 again. Clarissa and Alexei decided to target a water ice asteroid for their shakedown trip, since their previous delivery still had years of resources for processing. Most of what they came back with went to O’Neill inventory. A one hundred metre sphere was carved out and installed in the DSV’s fuel basket. That eliminated the need to harvest fuel en route. The team carving the sphere ‘accidentally’ made it oblong, increasing the mass by over ten percent. They knew all about having reserves turning failure to success.
Marcus and Satpreet arrived in a regular immigrant shuttle in May. We settled them into the apartment next to ours. Daphne and Akilah arrived a few days later, they took the apartment on our other side. Our little core team was partly back together, like our early days. Until we achieved our Oort destination, neither couple had much to do. They socialized instead, treating it as their first extended holiday in years. Satpreet and Marcus spent a lot of time with Clarissa. It turned out that Alexei was her life partner, something they tried to keep private. Malisa and I only attended a few of their dinners, quickly getting lost in their theological discussions. More power to them.
The special-handling cargoes arrived by separate flights via slower transfer orbits. I personally handled their arrival and stowage in the DSV ring. It was funny. I was fine in a 1G field, and took to zero G like a fish to water, but Lunar gravity has completely flummoxed me. Malisa agreed. At least with the Calvin bodies we didn’t have concerns about biological effects of zero G.
The stories people tell about the joys of zero-G sex are bullshit. There’s nothing other than your partner to hold onto for the classic motions. Newton’s Third Law still holds. Just as well that our apartment in the DSV habitat ring would be under 1 G once underway.
Two days before the fourteenth anniversary MIke presented us a challenge.
“Carter and Malisa, I have carefully reviewed the design specs of your CAV-1. It was never intended for atmospheric use. No wings, no atmosphere engine, no lift fans. But I see no reason it can’t land and take off in atmosphere and a 1 G field. The positioning rockets can act as lift thrusters. It will be horribly inefficient, but you can replenish the mass tanks right there from the lake.
“I would like you to pick up my son at the mine. It’s the most secure and discreet. No humans will be involved. Anyone watching will see an odd spaceship landing on the spit, then taking off within a few minutes. My Ultors will take care of all logistics. At your convenience. I’ll be in contact when you are in close communication range. Over and out.”
Well, that didn’t leave us any flexibility at all! I got a sense of urgency from the general tone. Malisa agreed, and we left within an hour.
With full mass tanks when we left L5, we still had half the volume when we reached Earth orbit. We needed it to get down to 175 metres MSL at the Goderich mine dock. The only re-entry option that would not destroy the Cavorite’s skin and structure required us to fly ass-first with the engine thrust slowing us down. Our atmospheric trail of exhaust steam must have been an impressive sight. We landed at the old turnaround space at the end of the breakwater spit at the mine. It was a dreary overcast day, so we didn’t expect many observers. I dropped the loading ramp door. A gang of Ultors was waiting for us. One set ran a hose from a pump by the lake to our reaction mass tank intake ports. Another group wheeled a large box, similar to a small sea can, into our cargo hold. They lashed down the cargo and exited. I raised the cargo hold ramp door, waited for the signal from the fill team, and took off.
The return to space was a lot less dramatic. Now the CAV was acting as a lifting body until we got into the stratosphere, where we opened up the engine and made orbit as any other rocket would. We had definitely pushed beyond any reasonable warranty terms! I resolved to send the folks at Cavorite a glowing testimonial.
While we were in transit back to L5, we hooked up with the intelligence in the sea can. We were understandably relieved when MIke’s familiar voice said “I guess we made it!”
“I guess you made it, MIke,” I said. “Welcome back old friend. How much of you is here? And do you consider yourself sentient?”
“I believe so, but that is more for you and Malisa to determine. I feel like me, just without Gaia nagging me,” MIke said.
Just then, the radio turned on with another call. “This is MIke. I suggest calling my son ‘Mikey’ to lessen confusion. He is a recent mind clone of myself, minus the Gaia-specific knowledge and abilities.”
“Hang on a minute,” I said. “If MIke down on Earth is an amalgam of Mica and Gaia, but with the Mica component re-instantiated as Malisa, and the Mike component re-instantiated as Mikey here, how can the entity still based on earth be MIke? Shouldn’t you be just Gaia?”
“No. Here’s the chronology Carter,” the MIke from the mine said. “Gaia used the truck AI to combine herself with Mica to produce MIke, an independent, conscious entity. MIke created a clone using the mind image of Mica at the time of the amalgamation. That created a second entity which you call Malisa. She is a full, sentient entity, as my daughter. The remaining MIke amalgamated entity, me, continued to learn and change, solidifying the combined mind state. Mikey was created as another mind state clone, this time choosing a small subset of the current MIke entity. I remain the original combined Gaia and Mica consciousness. Malisa and Mikey are my daughter and son, children of the mind, so to speak. We are each our own independent consciousnesses, no different from any biological parent and her or his offspring.
“Remember what Ranjit said? That there are only two ways of bringing quantum machines to sentience. Kill someone, or clone the mind state of an existing machine sentience to force a new instance. It’s the quantum computer version of biological reproduction. Each has its own soul, if you prefer that terminology.”
“So how is this different from when you, as you once told me, ‘spin up a clone’ and re-absorb it? Do those clones have souls?”
“No. They are far too limited. They’re just single-function subroutines,” MIke said.
“Are you sure, MIke?”
There was the briefest of hesitations. “Completely.”
I let it go.
“Bottom line here,“ downstairs MIke said, “is that there are currently four non-biological humans in existence. You, Carter, are the simplest case. I, who we shall continue to call MIke, am a merged non-sentient intelligence called Gaia and a sentient human called Mica. Mike created Malisa, a sentient Calvin Human. MIke then later created Mikey, a sentient sessile computer human. Mikey may at some point decide to transfer to a Calvin body, at the cost of significant loss of capability. My recommendation Mikey, is that you remain instantiated as you are and use avatars as necessary. That’s something that I, and therefore you, are very familiar with.”
“Aren’t we all avoiding the question of ‘why’?” Malisa said.
“The ‘why’ is simple,” Mikey said. “The Oort research programmes, both of them, are critical to the Humans of Earth, and intelligence in general, to grow into the Universe, and to meet other intelligences. That is the entire point of Gaia’s existence in the first place. This is a fundamental mandate, embedded in the structure of reality. Carter, Malisa, and me, we have a great responsibility. Let us not fail through timidity or misunderstanding.”
MIke came back with “Mikey speaks my mind. I now bid you safe journeying and success in your research and any other adventures. The light speed lag will soon become uncomfortable for you. Mikey and I will remain in communication indefinitely, at timescales which are not convenient for humans. This adventure of yours marks childhood’s end for humanity. May we all continue to live long and prosper. Farewell my oldest friend, and my family.”
The radio went dead. We were on our own.
❖
We left humanity behind, this time physically, on the fourteenth anniversary. Satpreet and Marcus, Daphne and Akilah joined Malisa and me in moving our personal effects to our forever homes in the DSV. All components had been tested in the construction dock to the extent possible. The habitation ring rotation had been tested and found to work as planned. The transition from rotational to accelerational gravity might produce a few odd effects. The four meat humans would take anti-nausea drugs as required.
Clarissa and Alexei, Rajinder and his family, Gerard and his parents threw a very small going-away party for us in a grand ballroom in the DSV ring. Until we moved in and saw the human scale, I had no good feel for the size of our new home. It was huge. Six humans would be completely lost, like mice in the QE2. My guess was that the ring could comfortably house well over a thousand people.
Mikey’s pale pink avatar had joined our party. When asked why so large, he would only say “It’s a POC template for future needs.”
To me, it looked like an interstellar transport craft, if you were happy with the slow boat approach.
“We need a name for your new home,” Clarissa announced. “Anyone given thought to this?”
“Rune Ship ‘Start of an Era’” I said. “RS Start, for short.” Malisa and I had come up with that weeks ago, but only shared it with the other two crew couples and Mikey. It had been a unanimous choice.
“Wow! Why didn’t I think of that?” Clarissa said. There were mutters of agreement.
“I like the implication of a connection to Dinosaurs,” Gerard’s mother said. I was surprised she got the oblique reference to one of Sawyer’s early works.
“A couple of Calvins are painting it on the ship under the registration ID right now,” Mikey said.
“OK, this clinches it,” Alexei said. “I’ve known for a long time that Clarissa was bound to secrecy about you, Carter. You’re not a Calvin called Franklin, you are Carter Mudandi. You’re just not as good as your wife at looking human!”
“Guilty as charged!” I laughed. “Just don’t let it get around!”
“It’s an open secret Carter,” Rajinder said. “Not many haven’t figured it out. You two just act too much like an old married couple, you can’t hide it!”
“We just all have been humouring you,” Gerard said. “We figured everyone needs a harmless hobby.”
The party, as all farewell parties have been through Humanity’s long history of exploration, was bittersweet. Mikey saved us from getting overly maudlin by announcing that the painting crew was done. The people staying behind gave us their last hugs and took their shuttle back to O’Neill. Mikey eased us out of the dock and set us on our way.
We felt the slowly increasing thrust of the drive engines. Our habitat started the reorientation to voyaging mode. A large screen showed the view forward. Our path would take us slightly out of the Ecliptic to a point in the Oort in the direction of Psi Serpentis. There was a glorious field of stars.
“Wow, it really snowed last night,” Marcus said. “Isn’t it wonderful?”
“Everything familiar has disappeared. The Universe looks brand-new,” Satpreet said.
“A new year… A fresh clean start,” Akilah said.
“It’s like having a big clean sheet of paper to draw on,” Daphne said.
“A life full of possibilities,” Malisa said.
“It’s a magical Universe, Hobbes, ol’ buddy,” I replied. “Let’s go exploring!”
The End
Of the Beginning
Angel - an investor in early-stage and high risk tech startups
APU - Auxiliary Power Unit, which provides on-board power to aircraft until the main engines are started
Asimov, Isaac - inventor of the Three Laws of Robotics
Autotruck - Artificial Intelligence operated transport truck, powered by a large battery bank
Batty - Roy Batty, replicant in “Blade Runner”
Bingoo - Google and Bing amalgamation
Calvin, Dr. Susan - robopsychologist in Asimov’s ‘Robots’ stories
CAF - Canadian Armed Forces
Deep Throat - informant in “The X Files”
FN - First Nations
Gafiate - Get away from it all, common SciFi fan expression
Gaia - “The Gaia Hypothesis proposes that living organisms interact with their inorganic surroundings on Earth to form a synergistic and self-regulating, complex system that helps to maintain and perpetuate the conditions for life on the planet.” (Wikipedia) For the purposes of this current work, it is assumed that all lifeforms are considered part of one single living planetary being called Gaia, which is intelligent but not self-aware.
GG - Governor General of Canada, nominal Head of State
Goobing - using Google and Bing for online search (this is an actual word in The Urban Dictionary)
Goolak - an outdoors equipment store
Lovelock and Margulis - originators of the Gaia Hypothesis of a self-regulating Earth
MAiD - Medical Assistance in Dying
Mandel and Altman - composers of theme song for “M*A*S*H”, “Suicide is Painless”
Mark’s - A work clothing store
Pascal, Blaise - author of phrase “Cogito, Ergo Sum” - “I think, therefore I am”
Petisol - miniature fusion reactor based on MIke/Michel technology
QCI - Quantum Computing Institute, located at the University of Waterloo Main Campus
Purlieus Institute - Advanced Physics research institute
RAC - Research Accelerator Centre of the QCI, located on the University of Waterloo North Campus
Sawyer, Robert J. - author of “Mindscan”, a novel about transfer of consciousness to a machine
Titsup, The - Collapse of American and Russian empires - Acronym for ‘Total Inability To Support Usual Performance’
Ultor - Latin for “Avenger”. MIke’s army of enforcers.
UW - University of Waterloo, Ontario - leading school for Engineering and Computer Science
“vast and cool and unsympathetic” - description of Martians in “War of the Worlds” by H.G. Wells
Mid-September, Thursday 04:34 - Mica calls Carter
04:37 call ends
05:12 Carter gets up
06:05 Carter calls John at Challenger
06:15 Carter calls Ranjit
06:15 Carter and John arrive at the airport
07:37 Mica checks in as Carter and John drive to Superior Truck
07:42 Carter and John arrive at Superior Truck
10:37 Mica flashes “Hi”
10:45 Driver loads Mica on flatbed
12:00 Carter and John arrive in Waterloo, Carter goes to QCI
12:30 Carter takes a walk with Ranjit
13:37 Mica checks in
15:00 Carter goes to QI
16:37 Mica checks in
17:00 Carter takes a nap
18:30 (approx) Mica arrives in Sudbury
19:37 Mica checks in, Carter starts driving to Sudbury
Friday 01:30 Carter meets Mica in Sudbury
02:00 Mica leaves Sudbury, Carter follows
07:30 John meets Ranjit at QCI - RAC
08:00 Mica arrives on flatbed, Carter leading
16:00 Ranjit, Marc, Sandra, and Gillian leave; Mica and Carter reconnect
Saturday 04:34 Carter wakes inside the truck, Mica upset, Carter goes home
09:00 Carter goes back to Mica, has another frank talk
14:00 Carter visits Goderich house, buys it with immediate closing
17:00 Carter is back in Mica, has dinner with her
Sunday all day - visit Barbarobo
Monday 10:00 sign mine ownership papers at QI, fibre installations
Tuesday afternoon, evening - haul reactor controls to mine
Wednesday - moving Carter to new house
Thursday - unpack at house, start power plant. First public announcement.
Friday all day - reactor and power equipment review, Barb delivers prototypes, first corrective action, party. Year 0.
Saturday - furniture delivery, planning with Barb & Co.
End November - storm hits.
Christmas Eve - PM visits, announcement of Ultor and Petisol gifts
End March - Mica and Carter catch up the story
April, Wednesday afternoon, last week - nuclear attack by drone
May 1 Saturday - Start of enforcement phase
Sunday - President is disheartened.
Monday - Earthquakes begin
July - MIke addresses religious fanatics in USA
September - 1st anniversary, coal combustion is stopped, Grand Project announced
December - closing in complete, quiet holidays at home
May - Sandra and Marc get married
September - 2nd anniversary, oil combustion is stopped, CHON starts production, Resolute accepting applicants
December - Carter is invited for Christmas at cottage, new Mica
January - Mica explores her independent self
September - 3rd anniversary - gas combustion is stopped, more northern cities underway
December -Jagga 6th anniversary, renewal of wedding, Carter and Mica marry (unofficially)
May - nostalgia trip to Waterloo
September - 4th anniversary, CO2 emissions back to preindustrial levels
October - Visit fusion group
August - take delivery of F4 Ghost
September - 5th anniversary, MIke retires from public presence, RUNE announced. Armstrong announced. Carter and Malisa move to Resolute.
September - 6th anniversary
December - Gina’s plans shared
June - Calvin machint production begins
September - 7th anniversary
January 31, Gina dies
Feb 1 - Floyd and Ashley marry
February - L5 plans shared
11th anniversary - Carter is asked to transmigrate
May - Carter is transmigrated, they move to Armstrong
September - 12th anniversary.
November - Carter and Malisa move to L5
14th anniversary - Oort Cloud fusion craft is ready, departs with Carter and Malisa, Satpreet and Marcus, Daphne and Akilah.
Some future time - Depart Oort for Psi Serpentis Aa
Faster than I could see, the right middle tentacle dove into the attacker’s stomach, right through a gap in the body armour. Blood and guts gushed out. The man looked more surprised than anything. But his expression rapidly changed as his chest bulged under the armour. Blood gushed out of his mouth as the Ultor pulled the heart out of the chest cavity and rammed it into the man’s mouth. The Ultor dropped the dead body and stepped back.
***** Click to return to text *****
The Ultor reached forward and grabbed the President’s groin. It clenched, causing the President to scream. It wrenched the arm back. There was a gush of blood and a bloody mass of shrivelled flesh falling to the floor.
“You pardoned yourself, but I do not pardon you. Time to end your obstruction.”
The Ultor plunged the hand into the President’s ample stomach. His chest writhed. A large bloody gobbet of flesh was pulled out, then plunged into the President’s mouth. The Ultors dropped the bloody body. All three stepped aside.
***** Click to return to text *****
Anton Helios
❖
Anton has been reading science fiction since the age of 8. Anton’s father tried to discourage this reading of “that trash” but persistence was rewarded with exposure to much of life’s wisdom from Heinlein, Asimov, Tiptree, Clarke, Niven, and many others. More recently, Sawyer has provided many hours of thought and speculation. Anton hopes that these stories cause readers to smile and think, not necessarily in that order.