Sanctuary Thrive

by Ginger Booth

  “So you haven’t told me, Sass. How come you look like you’re twenty, while I’m a fright for small children? Mahina nanites do that?”

  “Oh, my nanites predate Mahina –” Sass, watch it. That’s a little too forthcoming. She switched tack. “I mean, we’ve got better nanites now. But Mahina developed the technology before the settlers reached there. Belker, one of the Ganny crew on my settler ship, the Vitality, he researched medical nanites. I guess he learned a ton from what the terraformer crew began on Mahina. Then he left with everyone else for Sanctuary. Then he returned later to the Aloha system with one of Shiva’s courier ships. I guess he never reported back that our colonies were still alive. His ship is where we got the warp drive to come check on you.”

  Loki shook his head, and smiled softly. “Now why would you do that?”

  “We were worried about you.”

  He raised his remaining grey eyebrow, a skeptic. “Don’t you try and kid an old kidder, Sass.”

  “It’s the truth,” she insisted. “You see, Clay and I, we might live forever. But that’s because of what the Colony Corps did for us. You brought us all out to the stars, to new colonies. Ours were failing. I thought we were toast. But once we got them talking and helping each other again, they turned around. Sometimes in the wrong directions.”

  “I’ll bet!”

  “But it’s these artificial environments, Loki. We’ve all got too few people to maintain our technology. Yet that tech still isn’t up to snuff to keep us healthy. We need more green plants, better air, better we-don’t-know-what. We’re nowhere near ready to rest on our laurels. It takes a lot of people to support those specialties, the research, the engineering, the sheer brainpower and ideas needed.”

  He pointed a finger at her. “We didn’t dare put all our eggs in one basket, Sass. Those first shell worlds were too damned marginal. Especially Aloha, jeez! That’s why I volunteered to look for better. Then I got back here and learned Aloha died. Everyone from America, dead.” He nodded slowly to himself. “Guess I kinda gave up then, a bit.”

  Sass leaned forward. “Doesn’t have to be that way. Sure, Aloha screws up, but we’ve learned new techniques. We’re happy to share them. And look at Sanctuary! They built new starships! Better star drives! And I’ve got friends back on Mahina developing a new warp drive that doesn’t cost objective time. It took me eleven years elapsed to reach here. They hope to do it in days. What does that do for the prospect of a world like your Sylvan, huh?”

  His eyebrows rose. “No more one way trips. Or just for crazy old goats like me.”

  “And me. Even just subjective, let’s see…over five years I’ve spent in the black between. Earth to Mahina, Mahina to Sanctuary, plus a round-trip Mahina to Denali.”

  His face crumpled in disgust. “In a JO-3?”

  “We call them PO-3’s. Pono Orbital.” They both laughed. “Is that what you took wildcatting?”

  “Nah. That courier model was the wildcatter ship design. Bit modified. Shiva’s are nicer than my old boat.” He sighed.

  “Gotta ask, Loki, how come you’re not a Stepford Wife? Well, husband.”

  “Nah, those nanites didn’t work on me somehow. With no human beings left there to talk to, I took my ship up the lake a ways. We lived on board. A couple died. The rest opted to be robots in the colony. But not me. Nah, I’d rather live out my days out here. Not cut out for small town life, I guess.”

  Sass couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You live alone? On a courier-class ship?”

  “Yes, I do, ma’am. Trade with the town now and then. Fresh food stock, fuel, a tank of water. Other than that, we successfully ignore each other.”

  “Sounds lonely, Loki Greenwald.”

  “Yeah, well, five years subjective, you said? Try thirty-odd. Wrong system, wrong planet, year after year. Slowly losing crew by one’s and two’s. Couldn’t tell you where I lost my mind.”

  “So where are you? We should come visit.”

  He raised both hands to ward her off. “Let’s not get all hasty, ma’am. Gotta get to know each other first. Give me time to spruce up the place, darn my socks. Besides, ain’t you a wee bit busy?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. You’re right. But we’ll keep talking, yes? And we will meet? When things get a little less crazy.”

  “Maybe by then I’ll be ready,” he allowed.

  “Hey, Loki? You said no one else here from Earth?”

  “Not a one.”

  She nodded, accepting it. “Then I’m going to keep calling you. You’ll get all used to people again. I’ll bend your ear into those little origami birds, you’ll see! Because it sure is good to talk Earth again.”

  “Anytime, gorgeous!” And they signed off.

  As she slipped into bed beside Clay, she hugged him head to foot. “Made a new friend. From Earth.”

  “Be careful, Sass,” her gorgeous partner crooned.

  “We should give him Yang-Yangs, Clay.”

  He rolled onto an elbow, alarmed. “You told him about Yang-Yangs? On your first video call?”

  “’Course not. I’m just saying. As a matter of policy. Anyone we meet from Earth, we could offer them Yang-Yangs.”

  He shook his head. Relieved, he rolled back down onto his pillow. “Sass, Yang-Yangs rely on an external controller. They’re not self-correcting like our nanites. We can’t turn this Loki Greenwald into us. If it could be done, Mahina Actual would’ve figured it out ages ago.”

  “I know. But at least he wouldn’t need to wear a leprosy mask anymore. A sight to frighten children. I bet that’s why he really chose to be a hermit.”

  “Hush, sweetie. By now, it’s a part of him. Don’t be too eager to change someone’s life. You know better than that.”

  33

  A tedious month later, Sass finally managed to convene all three mayors and the software guy on Thrive for a meeting. Granted, they’d all been busy. When freed to think for the first time in a decade, Sass’s problems weren’t their top concern.

  Also, like Tharsis, their brains woke but slowly from long disuse. In fact, Sass suspected Ling was too elderly for her mind to ever return from its long vacation. The Loonies needed a new major mayor. Tharsis and Lumpkin were fairly cogent by now, but like Darren Markley and poor Zelda, their biochemistry remained low on happy juice, and their thought processes…slow.

  “Welcome to the Mars Colony sports complex!” For this meeting, Sass decided to host them in VR. Clay showed Tharsis around briefly once before, on the Luna Colony mockup. On a functional level, this provided a private meeting space while seated in Thrive’s public galley.

  Colonel Tharsis stared at the wall-sized poster of a tiger leaping out of lush jungle. Unlike his familiar Sanctuary version, the sports drink ad was obvious here. Sass let Clay explain the facilities by way of ice-breaker. The six of them gathered on a fairly tight crescent of stadium seating above a hexagonal ga-ga pit. Clay even played them a segment of a long-ago dodge ball game to demonstrate.

  Sass tapped his foot to wrap it up, and let him complete one final sentence and freeze the recording. She pointed to the spectators and pit, and he disabled them, winking out the fake people until just the six of them remained.

  “I have progress to report!” Sass launched with forced enthusiasm. “Our friends on Mahina have been able to reconstruct the original primary directives given to Shiva. The god rules, if you will. Your AI’s fundamental instructions.”

  “I don’t understand,” Ling said querulously.

  Hugo Silva suggested, “Let’s hold questions for the end. Continue, Sass.”

  Good idea, Sass agreed. “Our experts note a serious flaw in Shiva’s directives. She was never given a domain of operations. In the Aloha system, our AI’s are forbidden to act on human beings, by any means. Yours is not.”

  “We need Shiva to manage human beings,” Tharsis pointed out.

  Sass hung arrested. This stunning statement derailed her pitch for today. “Why would you want her
to do that? I mean, she’s doing it now. She’s operating your people like puppets.”

  Tharsis waved this away. “Of course, we agree that she’s entirely too intrusive. However we need her to raise the children. We’ve discussed this at length. We decided the ideal is for her to continue chip control until age 18 or so. Then we’d gradually wean the youth off. So that young people are self-directed by age 20.”

  Sass blurted, “That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard!”

  Tharsis and Lumpkin bristled. “Children are so inconvenient,” Ling murmured.

  “Excuse me,” Sass continued, in a tone anything but apologetic. “But human children need to be raised by humans. Your plan would have them graduating from creche as useless, docile morons!”

  Clay stomped on her foot. “Children are inconvenient. For instance, they learn from mistakes. Which means to become a competent adult, you need to make untold thousands of mistakes. But without making all those mistakes, the child remains incapable. At the moment, you have at least nine years of educational malpractice to undo. You can’t allow this to continue.”

  “But what competence do we need?” Lumpkin argued. “Shiva provides for us. The children are healthy.”

  “If you’re unwilling to train children,” Sass growled, “you shouldn’t be permitted to have them! As a society.” Though she also meant Lumpkin personally.

  Tharsis raised a placating hand. “Captain, I agree in theory. And I enjoy my children, unlike most. Our problem here was that for a viable colony, we require many children. Far in excess of the available motivation to raise them. Sanctuary would have died out quickly if we didn’t take advantage of the AI for babysitting duty.”

  “Then Sanctuary deserved to die out,” Sass said flatly.

  Clay covered his face with a hand. The others sat in stony silence. “Sass, your suggestion was?” Clay prompted.

  “We need to insert new directives into Shiva, forbidding all operation on human beings. Her domain is resource extraction, manufacturing, and facilities upkeep. The human domain is food production, science, child-rearing, any care of other humans. Shiva controls robots. Humans handle humans. Period.”

  “Sass has the necessary logic directives,” Clay added to Hugo Silva. “A sixteen-year-old friend on Mahina was our point person. Nico Copeland.”

  Sass was proud to bursting of Nico’s role in figuring out new directives. And to think he was a listless blue baby in a phosphate mine when she met the poor darling. But she couldn’t help wondering why Clay volunteered that factoid, when their audience clearly despised young people.

  But Hugo cast a guilty glance toward Tharsis. “Two things. One, colonel – I’m not sure I would ever have learned about AI or software unless I started long before Nico’s age. Math, technology, software – these are disciplines we need to start early. Or they’ll never make sense to you.” He waved an apologetic hand toward Ling. “Sass is right. Our children are not being taught what they need to know to replace us.

  “Two. Sass, assuming we could get agreement that this new directive was a good idea,” fat chance, “have you made any progress on how to get the god password?”

  Sass shifted back in her chair, and refolded her legs another way. “Our experts believe there is no god password.”

  “There most certainly is,” Hugo asserted.

  “Our experts suggest there was,” Sass allowed. “But not anymore. That when Shiva achieved sentience, she was granted her own right of self-determination. Something like this proposal that a 20-year-old should finally be allowed to think for himself. Except she had to practice and pass a test first.”

  “Captain!” Tharsis barked. “This is not your planet! You are a guest here, and you will respect our decisions!”

  “For the record, colonel,” Hugo interjected. “I agree with her. This is no way to train our next generation. We’re too dependent on our AI.”

  Lumpkin shot him a withering glare. “Duly noted, scholar. The subject is closed. I believe the next item on the agenda was database transfer. Why haven’t you shared your data with Alexandria, Ling’s librarian?”

  “Is she? Ling’s librarian?” Sass hooked her heels onto the guard rails before her and slouched in her seat. She trusted the body language was suitably defiant. “Major Ling, where is Alexandria’s office?”

  “There are nearly 1400 Loonies in Sanctuary, captain,” Ling objected. “I…”

  “Of course. I apologize. Where is your library?” Sass asked.

  “Ah, well…”

  Tharsis sighed. “Petunia, you don’t have a library. Shiva controls our data storage.”

  Sass allowed a brief silence, then pointed out the obvious. “I can’t give your hostile AI my data on the Aloha system. Shiva has multiple ships, fuel, powerful next-generation star drives. Unlike me, she has working warp drives. She can beat me home to Aloha. If she wants, she could inflict extreme damage on my home system.”

  “She wouldn’t do that.”

  “With respect, colonel, she’s already murdered seven of my crew and grievously harmed two more. We’re not allowed to enter your colony without being chipped. So far, I have no way to refill my water tanks, buy food or fuel, or return home.”

  “Your two chipped individuals are not ‘grievously harmed’!”

  Sass thunked her feet to the concrete ground and leaned forward. “You’re wrong! Darren Markley was one of the most joyous, brilliant men I ever met. Now he’s sad and confused and wants to divorce his wife of fifty years. Young Zelda was happy, perky, can-do, and excited to come on the adventure of a lifetime. She had a promising career in atmospheric chemistry. Now she helps in the kitchen. And the four of you? Aren’t thinking clearly either.”

  She pounced. “Hugo? You were desperate for the god password. Did your grandmother truly never mention this?”

  “Yes, I remember now,” Hugo admitted sadly. “You’re right. I…forgot. I’m thinking better now, the longer I stay on Thrive.” He’d never left, despite a half dozen opportunities. “Aren’t I?”

  “Yes,” Clay agreed. “Just like Darren and Zelda. And these three. Sorry, Hugo, but you’ve always been higher-functioning.”

  The scholar winced. Alas, his clearer intellect had yet to cough up a solution to Shiva’s brain nanites.

  “I can solve my own water,” Sass said. “Eventually. I mean, you did. But why you don’t have the human decency to trade food and water is beyond me.”

  Lumpkin threw up her hands. “We are at an impasse. We are willing to give you what you ask. We ask very little in return.”

  “I’m afraid that’s only because you can’t think straight,” Sass returned. “Does anyone have anything constructive to add? Or, you’re just happy to be Shiva’s little robots?”

  “Sass…” Clay warned.

  “Clearly we are not,” Tharsis growled. “And we are working the problem.”

  “On behalf of over 5,000 slaves,” Sass conceded. “Whom you have agreed to keep enslaved rather than consult them. Colonel, have you considered who exactly would be willing to take you in, should you ask it of another world?”

  “We had a very sound proposal ready for Cantons.”

  “They’d be fools to take you,” Sass countered. “Or permit your AI anywhere near them. Until it’s muzzled. With that, I believe we’re done here.”

  She accessed her VR menu and rudely kicked the mayors out, plus Clay to play host. She kept the scholar behind for a quick word, though.

  “Hugo, our geeks on Mahina believe the best way to install new directives is to persuade Shiva it’s in her best interest, or the best interest of the colony. Or, build a virus capable of sneaking it in. Or, turn her off. Shiva cannot persist if we power down the computers and wipe her cores.”

  He blanched. “Sanctuary can’t survive without Shiva. Life support in the colony could start decaying within hours. You said yourself, our skills are pitiful. And they’ll keep getting worse if we don’t break the children loose. Even the expe
rienced people…”

  “Have lost their skills,” Sass completed his thought. “Well, think about it. But at this point, I need to ask you to return to Sanctuary. We enjoy your friendship, and hope to continue working together. But if I can’t solve this impasse, Thrive needs to pursue a new agenda.”

  Hugo cowered. “Is that a threat, captain?”

  Sass shrugged, and kicked him out of VR.

  As she pulled off her headset in the galley, two of the three mayors were already sniping at Clay. The third, Ling, stared at the wall, hopefully just a habit she hadn’t broken yet. Sass could say this for her lover – Clay truly didn’t care when other people went mental. He stood erect, arms cross on his chest, and gazed at them implacably.

  “Ten minutes to pack and say good-bye, Hugo,” Sass interrupted. “Clay, would you like to deposit the mayors back home, or shall I?”

  Clay raised a dry eyebrow. “I prefer to do it, captain.” He meant he didn’t trust her with the chore. “Though perhaps we could all take a breather, and resume talks more calmly.”

  “No, Mr. Rocha,” Sass overruled him. “Colonel Tharsis is correct. I don’t respect them enough to talk further. Have fun dropping them off.”

  On automatic, she turned to assure the mayors it was a pleasure. But it wasn’t. So instead she turned and stalked out of the chamber to head for her office.

  “Captain!” Hugo attempted. “My ansible!”

  She ignored him. OK, the ansible was outright theft. But she needed it. She wished she only needed it professionally. But in truth, the antlered box was her emotional teddy bear. She craved her weekly talks with Cope and Ben like an addict longed for her fix. Maybe she’d call them again tonight, off schedule, just to vent.

  No. Be here now. She’d gone to a lot of trouble to get here. She dragged along others, including seven to their deaths. Maybe she’d call Loki Greenwald again later. The wildcatter lived in this world, if not in the colony.

  Sounds wafted to her from the catwalk. Clay physically blocked Hugo from coming forward to argue with her. She tuned them out.