by Gadi Migdal
“Of course, you can, Adam, why do you think that I would see that as insolent?”
“Because you won’t like what I have to say, sir.”
Jonathan grinned. “You know me since I was born Adam. You have no reason to worry about saying anything at all.”
“Very good, sir. Bruce is very lonely and he misses you and his mother.”
“I am aware of that, Adam, that is the main reason that I will be awake for a longer period this time.”
The old man shook his head. “It’s not enough, sir. He needs your company for a longer period, not just a few days per year.”
“So what do you suggest? That I let him dream too? That I put him in the machine the same days as me?” Jonathan tried to understand what the old man was getting at.
“No, sir. Precisely the opposite. You must stop sleeping and remain awake in order to look after Bruce. He needs his parents.”
“Quit dreaming entirely?” Jonathan was shocked.
“Yes. sir, or at least during the daytime hours. Bruce’s wellbeing demands it.”
“Thank you, Adam,” Jonathan’s tone cooled. “That’s enough.”
“Of course, sir,” the old man nodded and left the room.
Jonathan shook in his chair. Quit dreaming completely? Adam had no doubt lost his mind. Maybe it was time to send the housekeeper for a routine checkup. The old human-like android was very reliable, but even the best models could break down.
He scanned the screen checking whether there were any tasks remaining. Two more furniture dealers were waiting to speak with him, he had a long day ahead. Jonathan sighed wearily. He missed the dreaming.
Maybe he would buy an enhanced dog after all. The merchant would give him more time to play with Bruce. Aside from that, he so badly wanted to sleep. But he had promised Bruce that he would stay awake for two weeks. He would think of a solution for this situation later. Jonathan took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and forced himself to relax.
For a moment, he remembered the years he had spent in the world of the mermaids and smiled longingly to himself.
It was time to come back to reality. He signaled to the computer to contact another merchant and looked at the young, energetic dog on the screen. He forced himself to smile at the merchant, knowing that another lengthy negotiation awaited him.
Bruce ran between the trees and shouted happily, “You won’t catch me, you big bad dragon. I have a lightsaber and superpowers!” Jonathan chased after him with arms outstretched and roared like a dragon. The boy laughed and stood beside a tree trunk with his toy lightsaber in his hand. Jonathan leapt on him and trapped him in a hug. Bruce shook free from the embrace and protested reproachfully, “No, Dad. You are the evil dragon. You cannot succeed in catching me.”
“I didn’t know there were rules for playing,” Jonathan teased him.
“Of course, there are. The good guys always win,” the boy explained.
That sentence sounded familiar, “the good guys always win.” Tim used to declare that when they played together as children. He scanned the woods. He and Tim used to play here many years ago. It was a natural forest that grew in the valley between the plots of the two neighboring families. It didn’t belong to either one of them, and so it had never been cut.
He hadn’t seen Tim now for 50 years. He realized that he missed him. They were good friends since they were born, until they began to sleep. Just like Bruce and Anna. Tim’s family home was 20 kilometers from the forest. Jonathan could hop on the hovercraft and be at his place in 8 minutes.
He quickly dismissed the idea. To meet neighbors face to face was unacceptable. Maybe he could send him a personal message when he got home.
He smiled at Bruce, “Maybe we can play a different game, little guy?”
“Fine, Dad. Tickle tag?” Bruce asked with a sly smile on his face.
“No Bruce. That’s a game for little kids,” Jonathan answered as he approached the boy. Bruce didn’t manage to answer before Jonathan jumped at him, “I caught you! Get ready to be tickled for a long time!” Bruce shrieked happily as his father tickled him. The two of them rolled on the forest floor and trampled the dry leaves.
They sat to eat beneath the hovercraft. Adam had packed them a lunch of cheese sandwiches, fruits, and vegetables. Bruce chewed vigorously and didn’t stop talking between one mouthful to the next. Jonathan chewed quietly and enjoyed the boy’s energy.
“How are your studies going?” Jonathan interjected when the child stopped to swallow a piece of banana.
Bruce shrugged his shoulders. “Fine. Adam runs the helmet every day for half an hour. He says that my knowledge is already much greater than average for kids my age.”
Jonathan knew that this was true. He saw Adam’s reports. The boy easily absorbed all the material that the learning helmet had given him. ‘A hundred years ago he would have been considered a genius,’ he thought to himself. Unfortunately, these days nobody cared. Today the only thing that interested the residents of New Minnesota was sleep, he realized sadly.
Bruce smiled at him. “Not that I know any other kids my age. I haven’t seen Anna for two months. There’s nobody my age in our area. It’s boring being alone, Dad. And I only see you and mom twice a year.”
Jonathan again felt that pang of guilt. “I know, Bruce. Maybe I will buy you a dog that will play with you? Would you like that?”
Bruce looked at him lucidly, “No, Dad, a dog will also serve as a merchant, and then you won’t ever get up to see me. That’s not a good solution.”
‘He really is brilliant!’ Jonathan thought proudly. “So, what do you suggest, sweetheart?” he asked the child.
“I also want to sleep with you guys,” Bruce answered in a hesitant whisper.
Jonathan was shocked. He himself hadn’t slept before he was 16 years old.
“Did Adam give you that idea?” he demanded.
“Adam?” Bruce was surprised. “Adam hates the dream machine.”
Jonathan nodded, “So why would you want to sleep, Bruce?” he asked. He regretted the question the moment he asked it. After all, the answer was obvious.
“I want to be with you and Mom,” the boy answered in a shaky voice.
Jonathan pulled Bruce to him as the kid began to cry, and he held him firmly. ‘What kind of future am I leaving you?’ He thought to himself as he held his only child. A future in which everyone sleeps, passing the days of their life in voluntary solitude. For the thousandth time since he awoke, three days earlier, he felt a stab of guilt.
“But my lovely Bruce, if you sleep, you won’t be with Dad and Mom. Everyone sleeps alone and dreams alone,” he told the boy.
Bruce stopped crying and looked up with an expression of surprise. “You aren’t together when you’re sleeping?”
“No, my dear. Everyone dreams his own dreams according to the story that he chooses.”
“What do you mean, story?”
Jonathan slowly clarified, “every sleep machine creates dreams according to a topic that you choose. The network has infinite stories. Before going to sleep, a person chooses which dreams he wants to experience, and the machine creates them throughout the course of sleep.”
The child looked at him in surprise, “So you’re actually playing make-believe by yourself?”
“Yes Bruce, that’s exactly what we’re doing.” Jonathan suddenly realized how ridiculous the idea of dream sleep sounded.
“But why? Isn’t it more fun to play make believe with me, here among the trees?”
“It’s complicated, Bruce. The sleep machine’s imaginary games are like a learning helmet. They give you the experience as though it really happened, and what you dreamt remains as a living memory. Everyone sleeping can go through thousands of things that he could never have experienced in real life.”
“And these stories are better
than real life?” Bruce wondered.
“Well, they’re very different. But nothing is better than being here with you.”
“So why do you experience them and not hang out here with me?”
“I told you, sweetie, it’s complicated to explain.”
“Do you dream about me and about Mom?” the boy asked.
“Yes,” Jonathan lied stubbornly.
“So, I want to sleep too. That way I can dream that I am playing with Mom and with you,” Bruce declared.
Jonathan was crushed. How selfish could he be? His son needed him.
“No, Bruce! You don’t need to sleep for that. From now on I will remain awake much more, and I will play with you,” Jonathan said and again embraced his son.
“Really?” Bruce asked warily as he pulled away from the hug and looked his father in the eyes.
“Really.”
“How long will you stay awake?”
“One week every month.”
“No, no, Dad, when you were a kid, you saw your parents way more.”
Jonathan hesitated for a moment, “Fine. I will be awake for two weeks each month.
Bruce considered this and then shook his head. “You slept for a very long time. You owe me. You will stay awake for three weeks every month.”
‘He’s so smart!’ Jonathan’s heart melted, and he burst out laughing.
“I see that I won’t need a dog to negotiate with merchants. Fine, my boy. I will stay awake for two and a half weeks every month.” He thought for a moment, then added, “but every night I will sleep connected to the machine.”
Bruce held out his hand earnestly, “it’s a deal, Dad.”
Jonathan shook the small hand presented to him and felt the tension in his chest diminish. Something whispered to him that for the first time in many decades, he had made the right choice.
“Dad, I am happy that you’ll stay awake,” said Bruce timidly as they folded up their picnic mat.
“Believe me, I am even happier than you about it, Bruce,” Jonathan said, “And do you know why?”
“Why dad?” Bruce wondered.
“Because from now on, I plan to let you do all of the bargaining for the farm. I will enjoy watching you. In my opinion, there is no merchant dog in the galaxy that can compete with your energy and intelligence.”
“Alright, Dad,” Bruce smiled.
“Very good.”
“But I have a request.”
“Whatever you want, sweetheart.”
“Can I also get a regular dog?”
Jonathan smiled at his son. “Of course, you can, Bruce. Of course, you can.”
Chapter 5
Ship
The ship was called Singa.
Singa was a long, rough cylinder, covered with detectors, sensors and auxiliary units. It was 950 meters long, with a diameter of 670 meters across, and its gardens and living quarters could sustain about 30 thousand members of the Whole.
This was the portable swarming colony designed to populate faraway planets, and was about to do so through use of flight computers that were supplied with maps of all the stars known to humanity and the use of six zero-point motors that were installed along the ship’s length and enabled it to reach speeds of up to 85% of the speed of light.
In stationary mode, the motors could summon enough energy to open a new wormhole but, as Nola learned, this was inadvisable because, until they tried it, it was impossible to know what was on the other side of the hole.
Ever since she had awoken from her fainting spell and found herself aboard the Singa, Nola had vehemently refused the head of the council’s requests to meet with her. All alone on the enormous ship, she preferred to drown herself in work and not to speak with human beings again.
Nola had spent the last week accumulating enormous quantities of information about zero-point motors, astronomy, space travel, black holes, wormhole technology, the locations of the holes that had already been mapped, raising crops in space, operation of radiation shields, activation of artificial gravity engines and other subjects that she found in the extensive library of the ship’s computers. The implant and coordinator brain managed all the information efficiently and sorted it away for future use.
For her ease of use, her private living quarters were planned with full access to the ship’s computers and systems. Her implant interfaced well with the Singa computers, and Nola discovered that she was able to control the spacecraft, via the implant, from any place within the ship. The cluster members probably did not plan to learn to operate the ship by themselves. They expected her to do it for them. She did not balk at the task; in fact, she was glad of it — anything to distract her from thinking about her own kind.
Four days before the first swarming members were scheduled to arrive to the ship, Nola received a message from the ship’s computer alerting her to a guest in the upper dock, close to her quarters. Furious at the head of the council for being so insolent as to come and visit despite her refusal to see her, she raced to the dock in a combative mood, only to find Grant standing there smiling at her through his white beard.
“I thought I made it clear to you that I have no desire or time to waste on disturbances from any of you,” Nola said aloud, discovering, to her great surprise, that she was actually happy to see him.
“You certainly made it clear my dear, which is why I didn’t come to disturb but rather to help and counsel,” the old man smiled. “I brought something for you, something that your childhood records indicate that you really liked,” he pointed at a pile of flat boxes behind him.
Nola inhaled the smell and smiled against her will, “Pizza? I haven’t tasted pizza for years.”
“Well it’s time for you to do some catching up, my dear,” Grant laughed.
They ate in her quarters. Nola did not recall so many flavors. What was anchovy? When she was younger, she only liked olives on her pizza. She enjoyed all of them, as well as the company of Grant, who did not stop speaking and introducing each pizza that they tasted.
“And this is an eggplant pizza with feta cheese and black olives. On the menu it was called Balkan pizza, which I think has some historical reasons, but I don’t really care - all that matters is that it is delicious.”
Nola laughed.
Did being with humans always feel this way?
She vaguely remembered dinners with her parents and childhood friends. She ate another slice while wondering how she had managed to go twenty-two years without meeting other humans.
They sipped from a sweet, bubbly drink that Grant had brought. He called it “dessert wine.” Nola was unfamiliar with the concept, but the drink was tasty and reminded her of the wine that her father allowed her to drink sometimes at holiday meals. Whether it was the effect of the wine or the old council member’s likable personality, she found herself relaxing and laughing at Grant’s chitchat throughout the meal.
“I never tried fourteen kinds of pizza at once,” she noted when the two of them were sprawled out on armchairs watching a small cleaning robot disassemble the remaining boxes.
“You know something? Me neither,” Grant roared with laughter so hard he nearly fell off the chair and had to hold himself back with his hands. He sat quietly for a few seconds and calmed down from the fit of laughter. Nola looked at him from her armchair as his face grew serious, and the waves of laughter disappeared.
“Why did you come here, Grant?”
He gave her a steady look. “I came to explain the situation to you and to ask you not to be angry at Mika or at the council.”
“Why shouldn’t I be angry? You treat coordinators as objects meant to guarantee you a comfortable life,” she stood angrily across from him. Her good mood gone and forgotten as fast as it had come. A sudden fury flashed in the old man’s eyes. All at once, he stood up and raised his voice impressively.
Nola stared at him, stunned by the intensity of his response.
“Sit!” Grant ordered.
Nola sat quietly in her chair.
Grant rubbed his eyes with his fingertips and sighed before sitting himself down too and raising his gaze to her.
“Nola, do you remember why our fathers came to Neifar?”
Nola smiled through the rage, “of course, to be the greatest farmers in the galaxy.”
“That’s exactly right, my dear,” the old man nodded. “That’s precisely what they teach the children. However, there is another reason that they came here, a reason that is not spoken of in the city.”
“To be very wealthy?” Nola guessed.
“No, money didn’t interest the city’s founders. What they wanted was to escape the next big addiction to befall humanity,” Grant answered.
“Addiction to what?” Nola was surprised.
“To everything possible, Nola, for example - did you know that there was a period in which most of the human beings in the galaxy were addicted to sex?”
Nola stared at him in amazement. She was a coordinator! How did he dare ask her such a question? Her anger flared up again.
“No, Grant! Sex is not exactly a field in which I have any knowledge or experience. Perhaps you remember that I was sacrificed on behalf of the city at age twelve?”
The old man remained indifferent to her sarcasm. “Our fathers immigrated here to give their offspring the opportunity to live in a galaxy that was not addicted. They immigrated here from a hundred different worlds after seeing all of their friends become addicted to every possible thing.”
She exhaled skeptically, “Alright Grant, let’s say that you’re right. Why would the fact that human beings have frequent sex make our fathers run away and come here?”