The Ship Who Searched b-3

by Anne McCaffrey

  "I really like Alex, Kenny." she said slowly. "Especially after the Zombie Bug run. I hate to admit this, but, I even like him more than you, or Anna, or Lars. And that's what I wanted to talk to you about when you called the other day. I really trust your judgment."

  He nodded, sagely. "And since I'm not in the brainbrawn program, I am not bound by regs to report you when you tell me how much you are attracted to your brawn." He sent an ironic wink toward her column.

  She let herself relax a little. "Something like that," she admitted. "Kenny, I just don't know what to think. He's sloppy, he's forgetful, he's a little impulsive. He has the worst taste in clothes, and I'd rather have him as a partner than anyone else in the galaxy. I'd rather talk to him than my classmates, and being classmates is supposed to be the strongest bond a shell-person can have!" Supposed to be, that was the trick, wasn't it? There was very little in her life that had happened the way it was supposed to. At this point, she should have been entering advanced studies under the auspices of the Institute, not working for it. She should have been a softie, not a shell-person.

  But you didn't deal with life by dwelling on what 'should' have happened. You handled it by making the best out of what had happened.

  "Well, Tia, you spent the first seven of your most formative years as a softperson," Kenny pointed out gently. His next words echoed her own earlier thoughts. "You never thought you'd wind up in a shell, where your classmates never knew anything but their shells and their teachers. Just like when a chick hatches, what it imprints on is what it's going to fall in love with."

  "I, I didn't say I was in love," she stammered, suddenly alarmed.

  Kenny held his peace. He simply stared at her column with a look she remembered all too well. The one that said she wasn't entirely telling the truth, and he knew it.

  "Well, maybe a little," she admitted, in a very soft voice. "But-it's not like I was another softie-"

  "You can love a friend, you know," Kenny pointed out. "That's been acknowledged for centuries, even among stuffy shell-person Counselors. Remember your Greek philosophers. They felt there were three kinds of love, and only one of them had anything to do with the body. Eros, filios, and agape."

  "Sexual, brotherly, and religious," she translated, feeling a little better. "Well, okay. Filios, then."

  "Lars translates them as 'love involving the body', love involving the mind', and 'love involving the soul'. That's even more apt in your case," Kenny said comfortably. "Both filios and agape apply here."

  "I guess you're right," she said, feeling sheepish.

  "Tia, my dear," Kenny said, without a hint of patronization, "there is nothing wrong with saying that you love your brawn, the first words you transmitted to me from your new shell, in case you've forgotten, were 'Doctor Kenny, I love you.' Frankly, I'm a lot happier hearing this from you than something 'appropriate'."

  "Like what?" she asked curiously.

  "Hmm. Like this." He raised his voice an octave. "Well, Doctor Kennet," he said primly, "I'm quite pleased with the performance of my brawn Alexander. I believe we can work well together. Our teamwork was quite acceptable on this last assignment."

  "You sound like Kari, exactly like Kari." She laughed. "Yes, but imagine trying to have this conversation with one of my BB Counselors!"

  He screwed up his face and flung up his hands. "Oh, horrors}" he exclaimed, his expression matching the outrage in his voice. "How could you confess to feeling anything? AH-One-Oh-Three-Three, I am going to have to report you for instability!"

  "Precisely," she replied, sobering. "Sometimes I think they just want us to be superior sorts of AIs. Self-aware and self-motivating, but someone get out a scalpel and excise the feeling part before you pop them in their shells."

  "There's a fine line they have to tread, dear," he told her, just as soberly. "Your classmates lack something you had, the physical nurturing of a parent. They never touched anything; they've never known anything but a very artificial environment. They don't really understand emotions, because they've never been allowed to experience them or even see them near at hand. I don't think there's any question in my mind what that means, when they first come out into the real world of us softies. It means they literally enter a world as foreign and incomprehensible as any alien culture. In some ways, it would be better if they all entered professions where they never had to deal with humans one-on-one."

  "Then why?" She picked her words with care. "Why don't they put adults into shells?"

  "Because adults, even children, often can't adapt to the fact that their bodies don't work anymore, and that, as you pointed out yourself, they will never have that human touch again." He sighed. "I've seen plenty of that in my time, too. You are an exception, my love. But you always have been special. Outstandingly flexible, adaptable." He sat back in his chair and thought; she didn't interrupt him. "Tia, there are things that I don't agree with in the way the shell-person training program is run. But you're out of the training area now and into the real world. You'll find that even the Counselors can have an entirely different attitude out here. They're ready to accept what works, not just what's in the rule books."

  She paused a moment before replying. "Kenny, what do I do if, things creep over into eros? I mean, I'm not going to crack my column or anything, but..."

  "Helva," Kenny said succinctly. "Think of Helva. She and her brawn had a romance that still has power over the rest of known space. If it happens, Tia, let it happen. If it doesn't, don't mourn over it. Enjoy the fact that your brawn is your very best friend; that's the way it's supposed to be, after all. I have faith in your sense and sensibility; I always have. You'll be fine." He coughed a little. "As it, ah, happens, I have a bit of fellow-feeling for you. Anna and I have gotten to be something of an item,"

  "Really?" She didn't even try to modulate the glee out of her voice. "It's about time! What did she do, tip your chair over to slow you down and seduce you on the spot?"

  "That's just about word for word what Lars said," Kenny replied, blushing furiously. "Except that he added a few other pointed remarks."

  "I can imagine." She giggled. Lars was over two centuries old, and he had seen a great deal in that time. Every kind of drama a sentient was capable of, in fact, he was the chief overseer of one of the largest hospital stations in Central Systems. If there was ever a place for life-and-death drama, a hospital station was it, as holo-makers across the galaxy knew. From the smallest incident to the gravest, Lars had witnessed, and sometimes participated in, all of it.

  He had been in charge of the Pride of Albion since it was built. He had been built into it. He would never leave, and never wanted to. Cynical, brilliant" number="with an unexpectedly kind heart. That was Lars.

  He could be the gentlest person, soft or shell, that Tia had ever met. Though he never missed an opportunity to jab one of his softperson colleagues with his sharp wit.

  "But Kenny." She hesitated, eaten alive with curiosity, but unsure how far she could push, "Kenny, how nosy can I be about you and Anna?"

  "Tia, I know everything there is to know about you, from your normal heart rate to the exact composition of the chemicals in your blood when you're under stress. My doctor knows the same about me. We're both used to being poked and prodded." he paused "and you are my very dear friend. If there is something you are really curious about, please, go ahead and ask." His eyes twinkled. "But don't expect me to tell you about the birds and the bees."

  "You're, when we first met, you called yourself a 'medico on the half-shell'. You're half machine. How does Anna feel about that?" If she could have blushed, she would have, she felt so intrusive.

  He didn't seem to feel that she was intruding, however. "Hmm, good questions. The answer, my dear, is one that I am afraid can't apply to you. I'm only 'half machine' when I'm strapped in. When I'm not in my chair, I'm, an imperfect, but entirely human creature. "He smiled.

  "So it's like comparing rocks to bonbons." That was something she hadn't anticipated.
"Or water to sheet metal."

  "Good comparisons. You're not the first to ask these questions, by the way. So don't think you're unique in being curious." He stretched and grinned. "Anna and I are doing a lot of, hmm, personal-relations counseling of my other handicapped patients."

  "At least I'm not some kind of, would-be voyeur." That was nice to know.

  "You, however, were and are in an entirely different boat than my other patients," he warned. "What applies to them does not apply to you." He shook his head. "I'm going to give this to you straight and without softening. You have no working nerves, sensory or motor control, below your neck. And from what I've seen, there was some further damage to the autonomic system as well before we stabilized you.

  What with the mods they made to you when you went into the shell, you're dependent on life-support now. I don't think you could survive outside your shell. I know you wouldn't be happy."

  "Oh. All right" In a way, she was both disappointed and relieved. Relieved that it was one more factor she wouldn't have to consider in her ongoing partnership. Disappointed, well, not that much. She hadn't really thought there would ever be any way to reverse the path that had brought her into her column.

  "I did bring some records of the things I've been working on to show you, devices that are helping out some of our involuntary amputees. I thought you'd be interested, just on an academic basis." He slipped a datahedron into her reader, and she brought up the display on her central screen. "This young lady was a professional dancer. She was trapped under several tons of masonry after an earthquake. By the time medics got to her, the entire limb had suffered celldeath. There was no saving it"

  The video portion of the clip showed a lovely young lady in leotards and tights trying out what looked like a normal leg, except that it moved very stiffly.

  "The problem with the artificial limbs we've been giving amputees is that while we've fixed most of the weight and movement problems, they're still completely useless for someone like a dancer, who relies on sensory input to tell her whether or not her foot is in the right position." Kenny smiled fondly as he watched the girl on the screen. "That's Lila within a few minutes of having the leg installed. At the hip, may I add. The next clip will be three weeks later, then three months."

  The screen flickered as Tia found her attention absorbed by the girl. Now she was working out in what were obviously ballet exercises, and doing very well, so for as Tia could tell. Then the screen flickered a third time.

  And the girl was on stage, partnered in some kind of classic ballet piece, and if Tia had not known her left leg was cyborged, she would never have guessed it

  "Here's a speed-keyer who lost his hand," Kenny continued, but he turned towards the column. "Between my work and Moto-Prosthetics, we've beaten the sensory input problem, Tia," he said proudly. "Lila tells me she's changed the choreography so that she can perform some of the more difficult moves on her left foot instead of her right. The left won't get toe blisters or broken foot-bones, the tendons won't tear, the knee won't give, and the ankle has no chance of buckling. The only difference that she can see between the cyborged leg and the natural one is that the cyborg is a little heavier, not enough to make any difference to her if she can change the choreography, and it's a lot sturdier."

  A few more of Doctor Kenny’s patients came up on the screen, but neither of them were paying attention,

  "There have to be some problems," Tia said, finally. "I mean, nothing is perfect"

  "We don't have full duplication of sensory input In Lila's case, we have it in the entire foot and the ankle and knee-joints, and we've pretty much ignored the stretches of leg in between. Weight is the other problem. The more sensory nerves we duplicate, the higher the weight. A ten-kilo hand is going to give someone a lot of trouble, for instance." Kenny shifted a little in his chair. "But all of this is coming straight out of what's going on in the Lab Schools, Tia! And most of it is from the brainship program. The same thing that gives you sensory input from the ships' systems are what became the sensory linkups for those artificial limbs."

  "That's wonderful!" Tia said, very pleased for him. "You're quite something, Doctor Kennet!"

  "Oh, there's a lot more to be done," he said modestly. "I haven't heard any of Lila's fellow dancers clamoring to have double-amputations and new legs installed. She has her problems, and there's some pain involved, even after healing is completed. In a way, it's a good thing for us that our first leg installation was for a dancer, because Lila was used to living with pain, all dancers are. And it's very expensive; she was lucky, because the insurance company involved judged that compensating her for a lost, very lucrative, career was more expensive than an artificial limb. Although, given the life expectancy of you shell-persons, and compare it to those of us still in our designed-by-genetics containers, well, I can foresee a day when we'll all have our brains tucked into minishells when the old envelope starts to decay, and instead of deciding what clothes we want to wear, we have to decide what body to put on."

  "Oh, I don't think it'll come to that, really," Tla said decisively. "For one thing, if it's expensive for one limb, a whole body would be impossible."

  "It is that," Kenny agreed. "But to tell you the truth, right now the problem besides expense isn't technical. We could put the fully-functioning body together, and do it today. It's actually easier to do that than just one limb. Oh, by that, I mean one with full sensory inputs."

  He didn't say anything, but he winked, and grinned wickedly. "And by 'full sensory input', I mean exactly what you're thinking, you naughty young lady."

  "Me?" she said, with completely feigned indignation. "I have no idea what you're talking about! I am as innocent as, as,"

  "As I am," Kenny said. "You were the one who was asking about me and Anna."

  She remained silent, pretending dignity. He continued to grin, and she knew he wasn't fooled in the least.

  "Well, anyway, the problem is having a life-support system for a naked brain." He shrugged. "Can't quite manage that, putting a whole body into a life-support shell is still the only way to deal with trauma like yours. And we can't fit that into a human-sized body."

  "Oh, you could make us great big bodies and create a whole race of giants," she joked. "That should actually be easier, from what you've told me."

  He cast his eyes upwards, surprising her somewhat with his sudden flare of exasperation. "Believe it or not, there's a fellow who wants to do something like that, for the holos. He wants to create giant full-sensory bodies of, oh, dinosaurs, monsters, whatever. Hire a shell-person actor, and use the whole setup in his epics."

  "No!" she exclaimed.

  "I swear," he said, placing his hand over his heart. "True, every word of it. And believe it or not, he has the money. Holostars make more than you do, my love. I think the next time some brain wants to retire from active ship-service, especially one that's bought out his contract, this fellow just might tempt them into the holos."

  "Amazing. Virtual headshaking here." She thought for a moment. "What would the chances be of creating a life-sized body with some kind of brainstem link to the shell?"

  "Like a radio?" he hazarded. "Hmm. Good question. A real problem; there is a lot of information carried by these nerves. You'd need separated channels for everything, but, well, the effective range would be very, very short, otherwise you run the risk of signal breakup. That turned out to be the problem with this rig," he finished, nodding at his armored legs." It has to stay in the same room with me, otherwise, Greek frieze time."

  She laughed.

  "Anyway, the whole rig would probably cost as much as a brainship, so it's not exactly practical," he concluded. "Not even for me, and they pay me very well."

  Not exactly practical for me, either, she thought, and dismissed the whole idea. Practical, for a brainship, meant buying out her contract. After all, if she wanted to be free to join the Institute as an active researcher and go chasing the EsKays on her own, she was going to have to b
uy herself out.

  "Well, money, that's the other reason I wanted to talk to you," she said.

  "And the bane of the BB program rears its ugly head," he intoned, and grinned. "Oh, they're going to hate you. You're just like all the rest of the really good ones. You want to buy that contract out, don't you?"

  "I don't think there are too many CS ships that don't really plan on doing it someday," she countered. "We're people, not AI drones. We like to have a choice of where we go. So, do you have any ideas of how I can start raising my credit balance? Moira has kind of cornered the market on spotting possible new sites from orbit and entry."

  "Gave her the idea, did you?" Kenny shook his finger at you. "Don't you know you should never give ideas away to the competition?"

  "She wasn't competition, then," Tia pointed out

  "Well, you have a modest bonus from the Zombie Bug run, right?" he said, scratching his eyebrow as he thought "What about investing it?"

  "In what?" she countered. "I don't know anything about investing money."