by Gadi Migdal
“Guilt? Guilt about what?” Archie was incredulous.
“For dreaming about hunting. Archie, you have never eaten meat, certainly haven’t hunted, but that is what your forefathers did for hundreds of thousands of years. You dream about hunting and you feel guilty about it.”
“But they’re just dreams. Doctor, why would I feel guilty?”
“You don’t feel guilty because of the dream, Archie,” the doctor answered. “You feel guilty for enjoying killing the rabbit.”
Archie lowered his eyes. “Yes Doctor, I do enjoy dreaming of killing. The rabbit’s blood tastes good to me and feels right in my mouth,” he said, embarrassed. “In the dream. I never killed a rabbit, I really do only eat prints,” he was quick to add.
The doctor smiled. “Archie, why do you think that you feel guilty?”
Archie looked at him in embarrassment. “Because I am an enhanced dog, Doctor. Not just some mutt who barks and eats rabbits.”
The doctor waved his pipe. “Precisely, Archie. The darkness that attacks you is an expression of your subconscious, which is trying to deal with the feelings of guilt for the animal thoughts that cross your mind. Thoughts that contradict your self-perception, of Archie, as an enhanced and cultured dog.”
Archie looked at the screen in confusion. “And how can I get rid of this subconscious?”
The old man laughed. “You don’t get rid of the subconscious. You must simply accept that you are a dog. There’s no shame in that. You are allowed to dream of hunting and to enjoy those dreams. The moment you understand that, it will solve everything.”
“I understand that, Doctor. Truly.”
“Maybe you do understand Archie, but you also have to internalize it.”
“So, what can I do, Doctor?”
“Good question, Archie. If you were a human being, I would send instructions to your printer to print medicine. But you are a dog, with non-human physiology, and there’s no knowing how a drug designed for humans would affect you. We will have to treat you the old way, through conversation which will help us to understand the root of your dreams and to get over them.”
“Conversation?” Archie was surprised.
“Yes, Archie, conversation through which we will understand the source of your dreams, the causes of your fears and why they make you feel so intensely guilty,” the doctor said patiently.
“But that will take a long time,” Archie protested. “I don’t have a lot of time. The dreams are getting worse; I no longer sleep at night at all. If I’m not fixed within a few days, Maggie will have to bring a new merchant to replace me. I will be redundant. Leanne will get rid of me and then I will be forced to hunt for real. There’s no medicine you can give me?”
“I can’t take the risk of causing you harm. That would be terribly unprofessional. But why do you think that Leanne would abandon you so fast? From what heard, you are an efficient and experienced merchant.”
“Because she is impatient, Doctor,” Archie wailed. “She sent Andrew to be disassembled just because of a malfunction in the machine that made her wake up. Poor Andrew, and it wasn’t even his fault.”
“Who is Andrew?” the doctor asked.
“The previous household robot. He was very nice. Leanne took him apart for no reason.”
“I understand.”
“She doesn’t like inefficiency. She claims that inefficiency takes up precious time that she could devote to dreaming.”
“Archie, have you never been sick?” the doctor asked.
“Of course, I have, Doctor.”
“And did you work efficiently during the days you were sick?”
“Of course not, Doctor.”
“And Leanne didn’t get rid of you?”
“No, but she complained about my loss of productivity on those days.” He smiled, realizing the doctor’s point. “I don’t think that she will be understanding about me having mental problems.”
The doctor looked at him quietly for a long moment, then said, “alright, Archie. I am not willing to give you medicine, but there is another treatment option. I can create a story for you. It’s a kind of dream, like the kind that have but with slight differences. A dream where there is no darkness and you won’t have any feelings of guilt about being a dog. Would you like to try that?”
“Story? Like in the dream machines for human beings?” Archie was astonished.
“Exactly, Archie. I have dog brain mapping and I could set up a machine like that to suit you, but keep in mind that it might be dangerous for you; a very slight risk, but a risk nonetheless.”
“Fine. I will take that chance. I have to get better, and fast,” Archie answered firmly.
The doctor smiled. “Alright Archie. I will send Maggie instructions to set up the dream machine for you.”
Archie watched the hovering ball flying over his cot.
“Are you sure it’s fine Maggie?” he asked again.
“Yes Archie,” the brain answered patiently. “Dr. Reuben checked the settings himself and loaded a story series that should help you. You can go to sleep. I am sure everything will be fine.”
“I’m not tired yet,” Archie moved away from the strange ball.
He went over the sales reports. As usual, the sales had slowed again. It was not the first time he had wondered who even needed the furniture that he produced. All of the buyers he worked with were dogs or household robots. Were they furnishing houses for people who only woke up once every two years and even then, only for a few hours?
Was everyone like Leanne?
A yawn escaped his mouth. Archie glanced at the clock on the wall. Two hours had passed since he had spoken with Maggie; he couldn’t delay it any longer. A wave of fear passed over him. Maybe the darkness would still be waiting there for him? And what if the machine made the dreams worse instead of fixing them?
On the other hand, the doctor had said that this helps humans, and Maggie claimed that he was more human than dog.
He approached the cot hesitantly, the ball still hovering above it. He got inside and relaxed.
“Hey Maggie, whatever will be will be,” he chuckled and closed his eyes.
“Sweet dreams, Archie,” he heard her say before he fell asleep.
The cute rabbits were still running between the trees.
He leapt towards them with determination. It was time to enjoy a little hunting.
Archie woke up slowly.
Something was different.
What happened?
He stretched slowly.
Had he forgotten something?
He stretched his hind legs and arched his back.
The dream! The darkness didn’t get him this time.
He leaped up and ran to the clock. Nine hours. He had slept for nine hours without a single nightmare.
“Maggie,” he shouted and ran in happy circles, chasing his tail.
“I understand that you had a good night, Archie,” said Maggie.
“Yes! Definitely,” he shouted happily. “The machine worked great. When will the doctor call?”
“He will be on the line in four minutes, Archie.” Did he detect happiness in her voice? Archie wondered.
The old man smiled at him. “I understand you had a quiet night.”
“Yes, Doctor. Certainly. Thank you so much,” Archie was worked up.
“It’s nothing, Archie, I was happy to help.”
“How often should I use the machine, Doctor?”
The doctor laughed. “This one time was enough, Archie.”
“And if the dreams come back, should I use it again?”
“No Archie, if the nightmare returns, contact me again.”
“So actually, I don’t have a problem, and everything is fine with me?” Archie asked hesitantly.
“All is right with yo
u, Archie,” the doctor laughed. “But if you have further problems don’t hesitate to contact me.”
“Thank you,” said Archie. He thought for a moment, then asked, “Doctor, how is it that you even have time free for a simple dog like me?”
“Free time is all I have, Archie. Less and less human beings use my services. Most of them prefer to dream.” The sadness in his voice was evident.
“Do those dreams help them, like they helped me?” he asked the old brain.
“The dreams used to help them, dear dog. Unfortunately, these days, they only do harm.”
“But if it is harmful, why do they prefer to dream?”
The old man smiled sadly, “Because they are addicted, Archie. It is simply an addiction.”
Chapter 8
Egg-layer
The robotic hovercraft disengaged from the side of Singa and hovered back towards Neifar. Nola transmitted orders to the 500 new farmers who had arrived on the ship and sent them to the gardens where the work-force was needed.
After a week of hard work, the thousands of workers, caretakers, guards, farmers and assistants made quick progress preparing the ship and turning it into an efficient, functional cluster. A small cluster, but for all intents and purposes, a cluster.
In the few free moments that she had; Nola wondered how past swarmings had managed to survive. It was clearly some kind of miracle, considering that they did not have an experienced coordinator and that their egg-layer was just a few days old at the time of the swarming. Nola was an experienced coordinator, but she was still surprised by the amount of work required to build and establish a new cluster.
There was the preparation of the gardens, determining the areas of activity, establishing transport channels, as well as living quarters, the nursery and a thousand other tasks. At the same time, she had to check the entire ship system and plan the living arrangements for the other humans she had invited. There were a thousand essential duties, but one stood out above all the rest in terms of importance — preparing the egg-laying compound. The egg-layer was expected to land on Singa within five hours.
‘New egg-layer,’ the thought was constantly running through her mind. Poking at her, making her feel guilty, disturbing her and filling up her day. A new egg-layer was an opportunity for a fresh start. Nola was determined: this time she would not let down her egg-layer. This time she would prove herself and create a strong bond with the egg-layer.
She would not be alone again in the new cluster, she would not be the coordinator of a quiet, arrogant she-slave again. No! Nola was going to be the new egg-layer’s right-hand woman, her confidante.
The first step towards achieving this goal was to make sure that the laying area was perfect. She entered one of the elevators and ordered it to descend to the laying floor. She felt a strange feeling as the elevator descended, and her brain knew that she was actually moving rightward and not downward. Singa’s gravity generators were designed so that the right side of the ship would be “down” and the left side would up “up.”
Nola emerged from the elevator into the great hall. Busy workers ran around the space, connecting feeding tubes and arranging the laying stage. Several helpers worked were finishing preparations for the coming egg-layer, who was about to spend the entire journey there on the laying stage.
“Have you verified that the connections of the food containers are intact from the gardens to the stage?” she asked one of the workers.
“Yes, Your Honor,” the hurried worker replied as she connected another section of piping to the egg-layer’s feeding system.
Nola nodded with satisfaction and scanned the rest of the room. The small elevator beside the stage appeared abandoned and still. Nola entered it and went up to the nursery compound, which was one floor above the laying compound. There were several caretakers idling there, without a clear job to do. They walked around between the cells, evidently irritable, checking over and over again that there were no eggs in them. Their existence was based on taking care of eggs, larvae and pupae. Until the egg-layer arrived, there wasn’t anything for them to do. Nola smiled to herself; cluster members were not used to being idle. “Clean all the cells over, make sure that they don’t have so much as a speck of dust inside,” she ordered them. They hurried to work excitedly. Their moods appeared better, as much as any cluster member could have a mood.
Nola descended in the egg elevator once more and returned to the great hall. Everything seemed to be in order. She returned to the main elevator and ordered it to go up to the upper docking zone. A robotic hovercraft with a thousand guards was about to arrive and Nola had to be there to guide them around the ship. The elevator opened exactly as the guards began to disembark from the hovercraft. As always, among cluster members, everything was carried out in perfect silence. Nola scanned the mass of guards until she recognized one that stood out, taller than the rest. Their General. She transmitted to her firmly, “General, I will send you the cluster map promptly. Please take your guards to the floors designated for them. You will find living quarters readied for you.”
The response sounded unexpectedly familiar, “Of course, Your Honor. Right away.”
“General Bud?” Nola did not hide her surprise.
The general made her strange laughing sound, “Quite right, Your Honor.”
“But how can this be? Why aren’t you assisting the new egg-layer in your cluster?”
“I was sent here, Your Honor,” replied the General with characteristic calm.
“You were sent?” Nola was confused.
“yes, Your Honor.”
Strange. Why would an elder general be sent on a swarming mission? Nola shook her head impatiently; consideration of that matter would have to wait. She didn’t have time for distractions of that sort. The egg-layer would be arriving shortly.
“Welcome, General, I am pleased to discover that you will be part of the swarming. Please clear the guards from the landing. The egg-layer is about to arrive.”
“As you wish, Your Honor.”
Nola nodded and transmitted the complete cluster map to the general. The general passed the relevant parts of the map along to each of her deputies. The guards and deputies would spend the entire journey on just those floors designated for them.
An hour later, the landing pad stood empty and shiny, ready for the egg-layer to land.
Three hours remained until the egg-layer’s arrival. More than enough time to make a round of the gardens. Nola went up to the upper garden and scanned it with renewed wonder. There had also been floors of mixed crops in her previous cluster, but never in such proportions. The Singa’s design forced Nola to be creative. Twenty years of managing an agricultural cluster qualified her to solve the ship’s fundamental problem: there was not enough space to designate an entire floor to each crop, so every garden contained several types of plants.
Far from the city and with no need to grow the crops that the city required, Nola adapted the gardens to the cluster’s needs, which were primarily fruits. Only a few vegetables were grown – mostly for the feeding tanks of the nursery and the queen – as well as for the humans who would be joining the journey. Instead of uniform, monochromatic gardens, the garden displayed before her looked like a painter’s dream. Green, orange, purple, blue, black, and red all mingled together before her eyes. Nola smiled with pleasure, the idea of creating an entire garden for just berries proved to be both efficient and pleasing to the eye.
She toured between the busy workers for a few minutes, each taking care of the crop that she was responsible for - ignoring the other trees. Everything was in order. Before continuing on to the next garden, Nola checked the gravity generators, which held hundreds of tons of fertile soil in place.
Two and a half hours later, Nola positioned herself in the upper docking compound. She was filled with satisfaction, the work in each of the gardens was coming along very nicely.
The ship would be ready to move in a week, precisely on the specified date. All that remained was to receive the egg-layer, get her settled in her room, and to begin creating new cluster members.
The ship’s computer told her that another robotic hovercraft was approaching the anchorage. In her peripheral awareness, Nola felt the excitement taking hold of the cluster members. Anger rose up inside her. No! She wouldn’t let them ruin the egg-layer’s perfect first impression. She hurried to restrain them and to remind them of their tasks.
“Get back to work. Check for cleanliness and order in all the gardens. Report back to me on the status of each of the gardens in two hours. Coordinator out.”
Their excitement gradually diminished. Nola allowed herself to calm down. Nothing would interfere with this important moment.
A sudden transmission caught her attention, “This is an exciting event for them too, Your Honor.”
“Certainly, General Bud, but that’s no reason to lose control,” she nodded to the tall general who stood beside her. She, like Nola, was there to greet the new egg-layer.
The general didn’t reply, and together they watched the docking zone doors, waiting for the egg-layer’s entrance. The wait was brief; the hovercraft arrived right on time. The doors slid quietly open as several helpers hurried in, making sure that there were no obstacles in the way. The new egg-layer walked slowly after them. Her youth was unmistakable, the panels of her stomach were not yet hard, and her color was pale; the egg-layer was only a few days old.
Nola forced herself to relax, “Hello, Your Honor, I am Nola, your coordinator. Welcome to Singa, your living quarters are ready for you.”
The egg-layer gave no response. Nola hesitated a moment, had she done anything wrong?
She pulled herself together and turned to the assistants. “This is the way to the laying hall,” she transmitted to them’ before sending them the route from the anchorage to the laying compound.
“Received, Your Honor,” one of the assistants confirmed.