Shards Book One

by Peter W Prellwitz

  I laughed.? Yeah, well, maybe for another hour or so. If I waited any longer, Al and Terry would hunt me down. They're hot to get the 'word' out, as it were.? I stood up.? Well, that's the update. Lunch around two-thirty?"

  "Fine. And restrain the chef on the paprika this time. Physically, if you must. That man has little regard for subtlety."

  I grinned and put Mike away. Turning away and walking to the elevator, I made a mental note to look up Debbie and invite her to a late dinner, compliments of NATech. Though it would be a business dinner-we worked long hours-I would still enjoy her company. Debbie's eyes were always light and sparkly, nearly identical to the boss's. In fact, it was startling how their eyes were so similar…

  I shuddered at the resulting uninvited mental picture. I'd have Janet advise the kitchen about today's lunch. What was the cook's name? Craig? Kurt? No, it was Carl. The elevator door opened, and I stepped into the defense field.

  That is all I remember.

  Not Chapter One

  PISCES PROJECT WILL CONTINUE TO COMPLETION, THOUGH IT IS ONLY THROUGH TRAGEDY THAT WE MOVE FORWARD. YOU HAVE ENTRY, DOCTOR. HOW WAS YOUR DAY? I WAS ABLE TO CORRECT YOUR VIEWER SIGNAL, SO THE BERN LECTURES ARE CLEAR AS A BELL NOW. POWER PLANT 8134J FOR THE HERALD IS UNSTABLE, AS SUSPECTED. AFT THRUSTERS ARE UNABLE TO RESPOND WITH CONSISTENCY.

  REPLACEMENT OF POWER PLANT IS RECOMMENDED. THE TEMPERATURE TODAY IS A BALMY 30, WITH WINDS OUT OF THE SOUTH AT TEN KNOTS. PLEASE NOTE THAT THIS AFTERNOON'S SCHEDULED RAIN SHOWER WILL INCLUDE HEAVY DOWNPOURS AND SOME THUNDER. CONTINUED DIFFICULTIES WITH THE NOVA SCOTIA STATION GRID WILL ALLOW FOR THE POSSIBILITY OF HAIL. CLEAN THE DISHES, THEN PICK UP FRESH APPLES AND CARROTS. THURSDAY'S PARTY IS FOR TWELVE, SO AT LEAST FOUR KILOS OF MEAT IS REQUIRED. FOR DESSERT, STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE FOR ELEVEN, WITH PLAIN RICE CAKES FOR MRS. HARRIS. POUR, PRESS, COOL. RESET. POUR PRESS COOL RESET. POUR PRESS COOL RESET. POUR PRESS COOL RESET. POUR PRESS COOL RESET. POUR PRESS COOL RESET. POOR PRESS COOL RESET. DIAGNOSTIC MODE INDICATES A FAULT AT JUNCTION RED 12/YELLOW 5. DISPATCHING PERSONNEL TO

  CORRECT. RESET. POUR PRESS COOL RESET. POUR PRESS COOL RESET. YES, DEKE, YOU KNOW I LOVE YOU! I HAVE TO, BECAUSE I WAS TOLD TO. AND I WANT TO. HERE, LET ME HOLD YOU CLOSE. IF YOU DO NOT REPORT LEAKAGES BY 8:30AM, AN AFTERNOON CALL WILL HAVE TO BE MADE. A LEAKAGE REPORTED PRIOR TO 8:30AM CAN BE CORRECTED AS A MORNING PRIORITY. ALSO, REMEMBER TO MAKE LATE NIGHT CREDIT TRANSFERS FROM THE SOUTH CREDIT MACHINE, WHERE I CAN GIVE PROPER LIGHTING AND PROTECTION. 1101001 01000100111010 1001011000101001010100101010001010001010 101111011010101101000101100101010 FINAL SEQUENCING. BREAK. ACTIVATION OF AUTHORIZATION ROUTINE. SIR, THE 2R45TH6I39EITW CODE IS VERIFIED. LAUNCH CAN COMMENCE UPON FINAL AUTHORIZATION OF YOURSELF AND THE VICE-PRESIDENT. ROD REACTION TIME DURING DRILL WAS.7 SECONDS, A 23% DECLINE IN PERFORMANCE. GAUGE 193 IN AREA D2 IS FAULTY AGAIN. GET IT FIXED RIGHT THIS TIME. ACCESS TO RED ZONES WILL BE RESTRICTED FOR THE FOLLOWING 35 HOURS AND 17 MINUTES, UNTIL DECONTAMINATION IS COMPLETE. WELCOME TO THE NET, CITIZEN! IT'S 7:41 IT'S

  12:57 IT'S 3:09 IT'S 9:21 IT'S 9:22 IT'S 6:00 IT'S MIDNIGHT IT'S 5:12 IT'S NOT FRESH, M'SEIUR! HOW CAN YOU EXPECT ME TO KEEP THE FIRMNESS AFTER BOILING WHEN IT'S NOT CRISP TO BEGIN WITH? DOES THIS FEEL GOOD? AM I GIVING YOU PLEASURE? THE GARAGE WILL BE CLOSED TO NON-HOVER STYLE VEHICLES PANEL 27A OF DECK R NEEDS NEW GROOVING DEFENSIVE GRID ON DISABLE ALL ELECTRICAL ANTIPERSONNEL DEVICES FROM THIS DAY OOOOOHHH! AGAIN, PLEASEPO URPRESSCOOLLIFTSIX STALLEDONSIXTHFLO FIREREPO RBEDS TSE DIKEFFIOL EKI CNR ITTEOS EDKTC… PHILANTHROPIST CARL NOOHICHA WAS AWARDED DRILL ROUTINE COMPLETED. CONTACTING SUPERVISOR CARL POWERS FOR ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT ME TO SERVE CANDIED YAMS ON FRIDAY? ONE OF YOUR GUESTS, CARL WILLIAMS, PREFERS THE GOOD MORNING, DOCTOR! WHILE YOU WERE OUT, YOU RECEIVED THREE MESSAGES FROM YOUR BROTHER, CARL. HE'D LIKE LET'S JUST UNDO I'LL LET THE COOK KNOW ABOUT THE PAPRIKA, BOSS. I THINK HIS NAME'S CARL

  "you can bury me Beneath the western sky, on the lone prairie."

  Chapter One

  "Come on. You can wake up, now.? The voice was both soothing and gruff at the same time. And quietly persistent.? There's no need to stay asleep. Open your eyes.? I tried to, but couldn't quite. It was more than a little distressing; opening your eyes isn't the same as operating heavy machinery MAIN CARGO HATCH READY FOR ASSEMBLY ENGAGE PRIMARY LOADING ARM

  but it may as well have been. I felt terribly weak and disoriented. I tried harder to wake up, but couldn't quite. A large, heavy, comfortable hand rested on my shoulder. Judging by the size, he must have been over seven feet tall. At least it matched his voice, soothing though it was.

  "No, no, don't strain. I suppose it's not quite time after all. You'll awake when your mind and body are ready.? He paused, then spoke again, as though to someone else.? Notation: Patient is in final stages of Healer's Sleep and is conscious. Orientation will be postponed until further examination in the morning.?

  I felt him gently take my hand in his. Bedside manner is all well and good, and despite a voice that belonged to construction foreman, his was reassuring. But this was a little much. I tried again to open my eyes. It seemed as though my mind wanted to wake up, but my body didn't. I'd never had an experience like this before. He sensed my struggle.

  "Please. Just relax. I know you're feeling different. You're in the final stage of an imposed condition medicine calls Healer's Sleep. You're awake mentally, but still in near coma physically. This gives the double advantage of your body committing its vast resources to healing, while freeing your mind to help in the process. The medicine in your day assumed that a positive mental outlook aided in healing. A good assumption, because it's true. Healer's Sleep allows you to take full advantage of that. Since this is probably your first experience with it, Healer's Sleep can be disorienting. Take my advice and stay calm.

  When your body is healed sufficiently to spare energy to other functions, you'll regain control.? He squeezed my hand reassuringly. I almost wished I could slug him. Still, he was the doctor, and I tried to take his advice. Presently, I felt my body relax slightly, and my breathing rate decline. It was the strangest sensation, as though I was only along for the ride, and my body was the driver.

  Apparently the change was enough for him to notice, for he released my hand and stood up. I heard him move around the room.

  "Good, good. I must apologize for trying to awaken you prematurely. For about an hour this morning, it looked as though we'd have to either force you awake-not a good idea-or abandon you. Fortunately, it was a false alarm.? He paused.? Hmmm. I suppose this is very confusing to you and getting worse.

  Again, I apologize. Let's try a different tack.

  "My name is Philip Barrett. Doctor Philip Barrett. I'm a specialist in cognitive reconstruction. A brain surgeon is the ancient term, I believe. You are my patient. My only patient for the moment, so I'll be spending a good deal of time with you for the foreseeable future.? He gave a short laugh.? Future.

  There's a word I suspect you'll think of differently before long. Sorry. Shouldn't be so cryptic. One of my idiosyncrasies, I suppose. But it's also that I've rarely dealt with a case as-advanced-as yours. I'm not trying to keep you unawares. But I wish to restrict what I say until you're altogether, as it were. So I'll give you tempting morsels and less alarming information for the next day or so, then fill you in completely when you're fully conscious."

  He may have had an odd way of saying things, but he made a lot of sense. By keeping me in the know, to a limited degree, he roused my curiosity while keeping under control my understandable nervousness over my helpless state. Although I didn't like the idea of having others decide what I was going to hear, I didn't have a lot of say at the moment and, frankly, enjoyed the company. He seemed to have read my mind.

  "In the meantime, I imagine hearing anything will help pass the time. Well, where to begin? This is, as you've probably guessed by now, a number of years into your future. You've spent those years in an altered state. Bluntly, you were not yourself. You were… someone different. Let's talk about that, shall we? When you're up to it, we'll
talk about your case specifically. For now, I'll give you the story in general.? He added, somewhat bitterly,? I suppose I should begin with 'Once upon a time', huh?"

  "Once upon a time, a process was developed that allowed the mind to be wiped and re-mapped, with a new persona being written to an unused portion of the mind. The idea first got started as a treatment.

  People who had suffered severe cranial trauma were often left in a vegetative state. The option was made available to reroute the mind, bringing it back to a functional state. Unfortunately, all memories were lost, and a new persona was the result. Still, many loved ones of the patient chose this over seeing the individual wither away, to die a lingering and unknowing death.

  "Later, many governments saw this rerouting as a viable alternative to the death penalty. Since any mind, once rewritten, closed off previously used portions, the criminal suffered a type of death, yet was able to be returned to the community, a valuable and productive citizen, utterly unaware of their past life.

  "This worked so well that it became a broader treatment, and abuses began. Violent offenders, those who were guilty of cruel acts that didn't merit death, were reprogrammed. The success of the program soared. Insanity became the next just cause for wiping and rewriting. Then, with the progress of suspended animation, terminal patients submitted to the wipes just prior to suspension, to help adjust to a newer brighter future after being revived. Fools-willing to give up who they were, because they were afraid of what their future life might hold. Soon, individuals who were merely depressed had the treatment.

  "It was at that point that a problem came up. The medical community had labored under the assumption that returning the patient to his or her own original persona was difficult but possible. Early experimentation on simian subjects indicated such. Well, the early experimentation was also very preliminary, very cursory, and very, very wrong. It turned out that once closed off, that portion of the mind was never accessible again. At least at that time. We can now reset the original patterns. It is very difficult, but possible. We'll discuss that later.

  "Further, it was an all or nothing proposition. A mind wipe was in all cases complete, no editing allowed.

  And finally, wiping and rewriting not only didn't solve all the problems, it made some worse. People who had been insane now became criminally insane. Others who were treated for depression went into a vegetative state. And some of those sentenced to death had sufficient problems with the chemical make up of their brains that wiping and rewriting only covered the problem temporarily. Certainly, the vast majority of treatments were successful, but enough failed to give even an ambitious government pause.

  "Then one day, a man was convicted of murder, sentenced to death, and rewritten. Only this time it was for the worse. The psychology of the day had actually mitigated the problem, and his original state was a best case scenario. The rewrite erased that work, and his mental condition deteriorated. Records prove he killed nearly 300 people over five years before being killed himself. Other cases came to light, though none as notorious as his. And the public finally woke up to the moral difficulties of this rewriting.

  Watchdog groups sprang up overnight, some more prepared than others. It looked as if the entire mess would be dropped entirely, and the rewriting process abandoned.

  "Then some idiot came up with the idea, why not just re-rewrite if things didn't turn out? While the connection between mind and brain is difficult to explain, it is essentially a one to one ratio. Development of the brain is related to the advancement of the mind. And the average human mind uses only the smallest fraction of his or her brain over an entire lifetime, so there was enough of the brain for literally dozens of rewrites of the mind. In one case, which I'll talk about later, the mind was written forty-one times. So instead of dying the death of atrocities, mind wiping continued, and rewritten rewrites became the thing to do in case of failure. Your generation had the perfect phrase: 'If at first you don't succeed, success will happen on the next try.' Public awareness again went on the decline, and acceptance of the rewrites as an everyday thing reemerged."

  I was getting the distinct impression that I had been out for a long time, which made me somewhat concerned about my physical well-being. The thought of waking up a withered old man with a thirty-one-year-old mind and memories put a lump in my gut, or would have if my head was in charge. I forced myself to be calm. Dr. Barrett had mentioned work with suspended animation. We had already started work with it at NATech before I… before I… I realized for the first time that I had no idea what had happened to me. Regardless, I guessed that the chances were good that NATech had rushed the process to keep me alive and kicking. Or at least alive. It was within the realm of probability that I had aged little. Perhaps it wouldn't be a total… Dr. Barrett was talking again.

  "…worse when the government let go of its monopoly and the for-profit business industry got involved.

  Public outcry was again huge, especially from those who felt a sense of moral outrage. Extremist groups began appearing, hoping to sabotage the efforts. They felt that it was far better to work outside the law effectively than labor inside it uselessly.? That sounded right. There were always those who felt that disagreement was justification for new law, enforced outside legal authority, with judgment and punishment based on their own convictions. I wondered if these fringe groups had seen the irony: They wanted to rewrite the law on rewriting minds. If law is not the mind of a society, it is at least its conscience and at most its soul.

  I heard a stool scrape the floor as Dr. Barrett stood up and came to my side. For a man of his size, he had an incredibly light step, and again took my hands in his huge paws. My hands were average size, but seemed tiny in his. How he performed delicate operations on the brain was beyond me. He was talking again.

  "…drifting in and out, judging by the readings. We'll pick up the conversation tomorrow. You may come out of Healer's Sleep sometime tonight. If so, just speak up. My quarters are less than twenty meters from here, and I'll be over in a flash. Don't try to stand up. You've been off your feet, or at least the real you has been, for a long time, and it's possible you've forgotten how to walk,? he chuckled.? Don't worry, though. It's a lot easier the second time around. There are a lot of things you'll have to relearn, but I rather think you'll enjoy most of it. What we gathered from your outbursts during mind restoration indicated an intelligent and quick-witted person. Well, good night.? He squeezed my hands one more time, then left. I didn't hear the door open or close, but the light must have been shut off, because it seemed darker. I was alone with my thoughts.

  Alone with my thoughts. The sentence was so common, so bandied about, that I had never given real consideration to its meaning. This was apparently the first time my thoughts were my own in some years.

  The good doctor had flat out told me that I hadn't even been me for a while. Who I had been and for how long, I couldn't guess. I didn't even have a feel, which was something I was normally good at. I felt like me, and always had. I tried to scrounge around in my poor abused brain, trying to dig up something that didn't seem

  AIR TRAFFIC PATTERNS FOR THE ENTIRE EASTERN SEABOARD ARE BEING REROUTED TO AIRPORTS WEST OF THE MISSISSIPPI, BUT IT IS ESTIMATED AT LEAST 40% WILL BE UNABLE TO LAND SAFELY. CASUALTIES ARE ESTIMATED AT 14,500 DEAD AND 3,000 INJURED. BOTH NUMBERS ARE BETWEEN 5.1% TO 7.8% BELOW ANTICIPATED SCENARIO. USING AIRPORTS WITH MODERATE RADIATION IN WESTERN PENNSYLVANIA AND NORTHERN VIRGINIA WILL FURTHER REDUCE THE ESTIMATED CASUALTIES.

  like me, but couldn't. For all I knew, Dr. Barrett could just be a fluent liar. Or he could be completely accurate, and I had been someone else. Maybe several someone elses if my first? rewrite? hadn't panned out. I wondered what the criteria were for a new wipe and rewrite. And why was I me again?

  Dr. Barrett left me with the idea that it was impossible to restore memories. Then I realized he would have meant it was impossible at that time.

  Which led to the question: How far in the future was I? Th
e good doctor spoke as if these events were well into the past. By tone of voice, misquote of the? if at first? saying, and personal opinion stressed, I'd estimate at least three to five generations, which would put me about 100 years at least. One hundred years! Well, that meant I had been put in suspended animation. And undoubtedly as a mature to middle-aged man. Not a lot of point in preserving a withered shell who didn't know who he was and would probably not survive the suspension anyway. That made me feel a lot better. Though I had precious little to go on, I could count on being close to my original self when I awoke from this Healer's Sleep. I would be older, having lived some years as a different persona, but still have some years left, which is far better than living out life with the IQ of a zucchini. Mentally, I magnanimously gave up a chunk of my life to science as payment for restoring me. Since I couldn't do anything about it anyway, I might as well accept it. (Thus underscoring the value of Healer's Sleep. My mind and body were working separately to heal themselves simultaneously.)

  I was satisfied with these estimates and suppositions. Remember, my career was coming up with realistic solutions to unrealistic ideas. This was a very similar exercise. I turned my thoughts to the other end of the question. If I was at least 100 years into my future, what was I at most? This was a tougher, and therefore more enjoyable, question. I had no direct indications from Dr. Barrett, but he still told me a lot.

  First, I was able to easily understand him. Living languages evolve-just read the Canterbury Tales in middle English sometime and you'll see my point-but his speech seemed very close to mine. Of course, he could also be an accomplished linguist, which would make sense for his line of medicine and his type of patient. It didn't make a lot of sense to revive someone, lean close to their ear and say,? 6iekwUs vBerdiow r?? But even his being a linguist would indicate a limited time span. You can't have a medical specialist who is also good at 500 years worth of dialects. I work on unrealistic problems, but statistics and odds do, too, and I used them. So, greater than 100, but less than 500.