Colossus

by John Ricks

  Blue asked, “Does every one of these humans dislike having high rank? Is it some sort of stigma to be above someone else?”

  Gray said, “We have seen that their higher-ranking officers demand obedience. They enjoy the privileges of rank almost like we do.”

  Big Yellows said, “The politicians have a ranking system that is nearly like ours, and they follow those ranks closely and try to become higher in rank.”

  Green said, “Our own scientists are ranked on abilities. Many do not like having rank, as it means that they have to spend time away from their projects to handle people and nonscientific work. The higher the rank, the less time you have to invent. This is a Red. He wants to invent.”

  Gray said, “He is very good at it.”

  Green said with a smile, “Yes, he is. But if he had more rank, would he not have more noninventing to do?”

  Blue said, “Ask him.”

  Green said, “I know you hear the conversation. Why do you hate having rank?”

  I said to all of them, “Even with the highest rank, I would not have to work at anything besides inventing. Captain James ensures that. If I did, I would stop and go someplace else to invent. The reason I do not like rank is that I do not like to tell others what to do, and I don’t want them expecting me to lead them. It is a great responsibility and power that belongs to the politicians or Blues. In this, we are the same as you. The higher up we become in our ranking, the more power we have, and we are looked at as the politicians of the group. I don’t want that responsibility. I am not good at it, and I don’t want that kind of power. Now, I have a question for you.”

  Blue said, “What is that question?”

  “You think you are superior to us. Then explain to me why we outgrew the stage of greed and domination in which you are still stuck.”

  Gray yelled angrily, “We are not greedy and do not dominate for the fun of it!” Oh my, that did not go over well.

  Green said, “If you look at it from a scientific point of view, as this Red does, then yes, we are and do.”

  Blue said, “I would not call us greedy.”

  Yellows asked, “Then what do you call stealing planets from other species when we do not really need them?”

  Black walked into the room. Black was a big alien that moved in such a way as to be hard to see until it stopped—and then it looked powerful and almost magical, as it phased in and out of reality. It said, “I call it destroying the enemy before it knows we are there. The human race has been highly aggressive until lately. It is our belief that they would eventually become the power in this sector of the galaxy. We talked long and hard about what we should do. Many wanted us to wait and see. Others wanted complete annihilation immediately. We compromised. We were going to try to make you warrior slaves.”

  I said, “If you know anything about our history, you would know that would fail. Even if you succeeded, you would fail. We may be caught and enslaved, but we will never be slaves. We would find a way to become free.”

  Black said, “We are beginning to realize this, and that brings us back to total destruction. Green, what is the purpose of continuing with this research?”

  Green said, “We are trying to find out all possible information on this species and what they are capable of. This one knows exactly that.”

  Black said, “I doubt it will tell us much, and we will learn little if this ship is blown to bits. We need to give him back or kill him, and do it soon. Continue, but make it quick.”

  Chapter 5

  Sloppy Work

  It was going to be a day to remember in more ways than one. If everything worked, then we’d be flying my new moving ship down to Southern California to pick up the moon dome. The old moving ship could not safely move it. The dome was too big and cumbersome. Weight is not a problem by itself, but size and weight distribution is an issue, especially when you’re still in the atmosphere. First, we have to get the ship out of the mountain. The ship is wider than the hangar bay doors by seventy feet and at least twenty-three feet too tall. Everyone says it will never fit.

  For a while, people were discouraged about working on it, as they thought that I was making a big mistake. They even christened the ship the ES Freddy’s Folly. I tried to point out that I would not make a ship that I could not use, but only the SEAL team believed me—and not all of them. About eight weeks ago I made an inspection of the latest assemblies. After seeing how badly the work had been done, I became seriously mad and kicked everyone out and off the project. During the inspection I discovered potentially deadly mistakes. When I asked why, the answer I received was, “We’ll fix it.” But the feelings I received were, “It’ll never fly anyway.” Susan talked me into letting them come back to work, but I had a talk with them first. Susan had them assembled in the yard; I can remember it quite clearly.

  We were standing up on a platform looking down on a crowd of people. Susan tried to get them to quiet down, but nothing happened. They were just too excited. She motioned for the lieutenant to bring things to order. Lt. Jacquelyn Uniceson, limited duty officer, was the master chief when all this started, and she could control anything or anyone. The moment she gave a hand signal, shots were fired from several places. It became deadly quiet after that. The lieutenant gave orders in a loud, booming voice, “Anyone else talks out of turn, shoot them.” Of course they wouldn’t, as the lieutenant had her hand in a signal that said she was kidding, but the civilians didn’t know this.

  Capt. Susan James stepped up to the podium and addressed the assembly. “I have a few words before I turn this over to Freddy. The reason for this assembly is that Freddy is upset with the work some of you are doing. He has informed me that the shoddy work on his latest ship will result in deaths and possibly will destroy the entire ship and everyone on it. He has let me know that the reason for this poor work is because some of you believe that Freddy will never be able to get the ship out of the mountain. Just to let you know, Freddy says it’s no problem. Here’s some information for you: people thought that going to Mars was impossible; Freddy did it. People thought that traveling faster than light was impossible; Freddy did that too. Freddy has invented over one thousand new and “impossible” things that the world now uses. New energy sources, new vehicles, new computers, the scanners, the shields.” She opened her arms wide. “He built this home from a toxic trash heap, and he built the ES Protectress and saved the world. I don’t understand why you don’t believe him. The other specials say he’s telling the truth when he says that it’s no problem. And now he says you’re doing poor work in building his newest ship, so he has something to say to you.” She stepped down from the podium.

  I took the stand and said, “Everyone who is working on my building-moving ship will be going on the trip with us. If I’m going to die because you didn’t do the best job you can, then you’re going to die with me. Understand: this ship may be used in the war between the Menseains and the Sycloyeds and needs to be top of the line. I hear most of you talking about the war nearly every day. I am trying to help plan for that possibility. Don’t slow me down, please.” I stepped down and left.

  Susan, taking her time so that my words could sink in, slowly walked back to the podium and said, “No one leaves this base until that ship’s ready. Everyone working on the project will be going into space, no excuses. That’s the order. I would suggest that you check your work very carefully and then check each other’s work. Freddy told me that he will not check it and that he expects a full and complete test run out past Pluto and on time. Lieutenant, please dismiss everyone.”

  I was back in the house before they were dismissed, so I didn’t see, but I was told that nearly everyone ran to the shop and started working on the ship. Of course, I did have the shop companion, an invisible portable scanner controlled by the shop computer, check every bit of work over the next few weeks and all the previous work. Most mistakes had been corrected, tho
ugh it took a lot of very long days and nights for many people. I found a few things and mind-touched the needed people to make them worried and recheck those spots. They did, and now all is looking very good, I hope.

  Now the ship was ready to go. I’d gone back to my room to hide from the saluting, but now it was time to eat, so I headed down to lunch. Only the main house residents and a few honored guests eat in the dining room now; it used to be everyone. Small groups are so much easier to handle. I sat down at the wall side in the middle of the table. Susan once offered me the head, but I find it easier to talk to people if I’m not the one they think is in charge. Besides, I’m not in charge. The head of the table would just give a wrong impression, and the specials would see right through it. As I was sitting down, I noticed that Tammy was gone, along with two of the men who always seemed to be around her. In their places were three others.

  Nicole Nickelson was on the right. She is a special, a clairvoyant who has the ability to sense danger and other things about a minute before everyone else does. Doesn’t sound like much, but it was her warning that caused me to quicken my steps when a young girl about my age tried to get through the crowd last year. It would have been very embarrassing, getting a hug and kiss from her right on television and in front of thousands. Later, the young girl was brought up to see me at the hotel.

  We talked, and I found out the silliest thing. She is Julia Pears, and I have a fan club. Can you believe it? This girl was the president of the Freddy Anderson Fan Club. My goodness, I must have turned eight shades of red. The teasing that I received over that—and still get—could make me a hermit. The team stopped teasing me after a few months, and they put a stop to most others, but every now and then I get letters from them. Apparently, the captain has hired someone to write back to my fan club and say nice things. Why am I prattling on about this? Because the one in the center of the three new people was Julia Pears. Julia is a very lovely, redheaded, extremely frilly girl about my age. She is skinny, lacking muscle but healthy, with a good, organized mind. She wore a pink dress with lots of lace and ruffles. Her naturally green eyes sparkle whenever she is about to embarrass me. I wanted to ask, “Who let you in here?” Instead, I said, “Hi. Nice to see you again.”

  She looked me right in the eye and said with a smile, “I can see by the dark red you turned when you saw me that what I’ve been hearing is true. We don’t really care that you don’t think you deserve a fan club. It’s one of the things we love about you. You’re stuck with us, though, and we all love you—all eighty-three thousand of us.”

  My eyes must have nearly popped out of their sockets, and I stopped breathing. Katie, who was sitting on my right, slapped me on the back, saying, “Breathe.” I did after she hit me several more times. I got up to leave.

  Susan asked, “Freddy, what are you doing?”

  Not taking my eyes off Julia, I said, “I’m going to the shop. I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

  “Sit down, Freddy.” I didn’t move, so she said, “Sit!” I sat back down. Susan turned to Julia. “Young lady, if you ever do something like that again, I will stop inviting you to this base or anywhere else we may be. Do you understand?”

  With a pout, Julia said, “Yes, ma’am, but I do want to point out that Freddy has not been answering our letters. Someone else has, or he would know how many people are in his fan club. I expected as much, and that’s why I told him.”

  Susan said, “Julia, you must understand that Freddy gets over ten thousand letters a month. Some of the letters are from pranksters and some from honest people who want something. He is so kind that he would probably give away everything he has to help people, and then we would not have the benefit of his inventions. We’ve hired several people who think a lot like Freddy to answer for him. It was one of those who invited you after getting my approval. I invited you so that Freddy can spend a little more time learning about his fan club. He has no idea. He has no time for answering fan mail, and the world cannot afford to waste his time on these issues. If you hadn’t noticed, the mail is signed Office of Freddy. If you get one with his signature or mine, then you will know we personally answered it.”

  I looked at Susan and said, “I had no idea. You’re right, of course. If I had to answer even a small portion of that much mail, I would have never invented the carrier, and the AD might have never gotten off the drawing board.”

  “That’s right, Freddy. There is almost no hate mail anymore, although one letter bothers me. It’s about experimenting on specials, and they wanted samples of your blood. We will talk about that later. Most of the mail asks for help with something, selling something, or wanting something. We sort through it and pull out the important mail, and then it goes through a process that cuts it down to two categories: business and private. You receive over three hundred bills, invoices, or communications for parts or materials that you’ve ordered.” She leaned forward. “It’s how we know you’re working on that new ship. That’s business mail, and we take care of it. The private mail is from almost everyone possible. You’ve received a letter from the Vatican, several presidents and other high officials, many congressmen and senators, and hundreds of girls who want you to come to their parties, There’s a lot about the war between the Menseains and the Sycloyeds. We toss most of them out and answer only those we deem important.”

  I thought a moment and then turned to Julia and said, “I just can’t take the time to answer the mail, Julia, but I will answer three pieces personally each month. Susan, I’m sure you come across some letters that you think would be good for me to answer.”

  “Yes, we do, but we don’t want to slow you down.”

  “I think I can answer three a month. I can dictate to Home or Shop and then print them out and sign them. I have a lot of busy work that takes no real thought. Shop or Home could read them to me, and I could answer them. Three is not too many, and one a month from my favorite fan, Julia.” I looked at her and quickly said, “Just so I don’t get blindsided again. All the rest of the fans can send letters to her. She can write to me after compiling all the needed information.” I smiled at her and added, “As president, I’m sure you don’t mind answering thousands of letters a month, do you?” I didn’t give her time to answer. I saw her jaw drop and knew she was about to become defensive. I then said, “And two others that your team deems proper. Would that be okay, Susan?”

  “Yes, Freddy. We’ll try that but no more. We’ll forward all fan mail to Julia, then. First thing: the world needs that AD completed. I think it takes priority over anything else, and I want to read the letters you send out before you send them. We need to know what you’re promising people.”

  “Sure, you can read them, and then someone can mail them for me. I really don’t understand your obsession with my AD, Susan. The world doesn’t have it now, so why is it so important to get it going right this minute?”

  Blue said, “He’s joking, right?”

  Green said, “He’s a Red. Just like ours, he doesn’t see all the possibilities, just the ones he is aiming to fix.”

  I added, “Again, that’s another color’s responsibility. I invent, and they figure out the uses.”

  Yellows said, “It is the same with us. Now be quiet, please.”

  Susan turned to the third new person. “Freddy has something that he would like to tell you.” She turned back to me and said, “Please tell Alice about your AD.”

  I shrugged and then had Shop pull it up on the screen, and I told her all about it. The whole table was silent, and Alice was crying. I looked at Susan and said, “What’s the matter? What’d I do?”

  Alice got up, came around the table, and hugged me. She was crying and thanking me over and over.

  When she was finally pulled off me and made to sit back down, Susan said, “Alice has lost three children to sudden infant death syndrome. She sent us a letter, begging us to let her talk to you. You’re the top specia
l in healing. You have the best ability, and she begged us to get your help to save her fourth child.”

  Alice asked through tears, “Your AutoDoctor—can it analyze what’s wrong with her and fix her?”

  I thought for a second and said, “Yes, it can. Where is your baby now?”

  “In the living room.”

  I got up and went to the living room. Two of the team were watching a man sitting with a child under monitors that looked a lot like a modification of my scanning equipment. I walked up to him. “You’re the father?”

  “Yes.”

  I ran my hand over the equipment. “Susan, is this how my equipment is being used?”

  “Yes. This is your equipment. We sell to the hospitals for medical use at a much-reduced price so they can afford it. Your scanners have replaced a lot of other types of equipment.”

  I went over to her and hugged her, saying, “Thank you.” Then I walked over to the baby and gently picked her up. “Have the doctors and other specials seen her?”

  “Yes, but they could not find anything.”

  “Have Stacy Michaels report here immediately, please.”

  The captain made a quick hand signal, and a girl ran out.

  It took only a minute for Stacy to show up. A precog (person with precognition) told her, and she was already on the way. When she reached the house and saw me in the living room, she said, “I’ve already checked her, Freddy. I can’t find anything.”

  “Then let’s check her together. I’ll show you how.” She placed her right hand on the one I had on the child’s forehead and one hand on my arm, where we touched skin to skin. I closed my eyes and looked at the child. I could feel Stacy’s astonishment at what I was doing. I was looking at each individual molecule. I found nothing, so I looked at the baby’s mind. I found nothing. Then I looked at the chemicals in her body and found the problem. She was being poisoned—not enough to detect normally, but it was highly toxic. It wasn’t food causing the problem either. It was a chemical that was modified in the brain. I traced the path and found an abnormality in the medulla oblongata section of the brain stem. I changed it to what I knew was normal, and the poison started to diminish. The chemical started changing correctly to a protein that helps brain development. It would take a few days, but her body would now correct itself. I opened my eyes and asked, “Did you catch that?”