“That’s great. Have you been able to get a sense of what she’d like to do?” Paul focused hard, directing his mind quickly away from his frustration with Hal.
Kiri shook her head. “It’s too early for that. But she’s definitely on the mend.”
Paul stood and said, “Perhaps I should meet her”.
Kiri waved down the idea. “Not yet.”
“She’d regress into panic and confusion,” Hal warned.
“He’s right.” Kiri warned. “Now is not the right time. She still believes Hal is just software from the ship’s computer, not some alien super-genius. And you... well, she if she knows you’re here, she might just….” Kiri inadvertently introduced Paul to yet another home-grown idiom. This one meant, ‘take out her own brain and throw it around the room’.
“I think I’m with you,” Paul told her. “We’ll take it step by step.”
Hal suggested, “We should still make preparations to bring her with us on the Phoenix.”
“We should. I really can’t imagine her wanting to stay here,” Paul said.
“Why ever not?” Hal asked. “Some people would give anything for this kind of isolation.”
The Welshman guffawed dismissively. “What, alone on a frozen moon, until you die from the effects of some short-out or a sudden crop failure? Doesn’t sound too attractive to me.”
“This is because you are ignorant of the larger plan.” Hal was forthright when he felt it necessary. “There are more things in Heaven and Earth than are dreamt of by Welsh software engineers.”
“Interstellar superhero Welsh software engineer, if you don’t mind, Hal.”
Kiri poked his knee. “So anyway... stay out of sight while she takes some strolls around the ship and gets her bearings. We’ll introduce you to her when the time is right.”
“And when will that…” Paul began.
“When Kiri, Haley and I say so,” Hal insisted. “And not a moment before.”
Paul sighed. “Quite a machine, isn’t he? A brain which encompasses the cosmos, but the manners of a troglodyte.”
Kiri smiled and left them to it.
***
Hal soon had seven different species flourishing in the farm, each adding to his healing cocktail of airborne drug molecules. Following the latest guidance as it pertained to humanoids, Hal combined the pharmacological approach with regular sessions of meditation, providing Anne with instruction in clear, calming tones. Each sitting brought measurable and positive change to her brain chemistry, and even its very structure.
Within weeks, she had adapted to a program of light exercise, consistent meditation and farm work which kept her busy, focused and rested. Her eyes gained their old clarity and sureness; she laughed more, began to ask if they could play board games or cards. She moved her things back into the small room she had shared with her husband, but still often slept in the improvised medical module with its molded, ergonomic bed. Haley was even sure she heard her mother singing to herself, one evening while alone.
Hal’s engineering projects picked up pace. Additional solar panels on the craggy ice surface outside the ship provided a major power boost. Anne gleefully but gradually turned one of the farm modules into a booming tropical hothouse. There were even four insect species, provided by a bio-engineering suite Hal adapted from a Replicator. Anne undertook to study its inner workings, but for the moment, it was a machine where water was poured in, processes occurred for a week or so, and larvae came out. They had discussed introducing a bird species to expand the food chain. Hal even had designs for doubling the farm space; his robots would construct an upper deck to their six-module complex, accessed through a central, spiral stairway which would encircle the Epsilon. The additional height, plus strengthened floors and prodigious artificial lighting, might support more complex ecosystems. It was Hal’s hobby during their Neptune sojourn, and he relished every moment he spent on it.
He remained concerned, however, with Anne. She seemed to regard him not as a visitor, but as some remarkable application of the ship’s computer. She had been surprised by Hal’s sophistication, but had never before wondered aloud as to how the software had come to be there. When it did finally happen, Hal found it positive; it was a sign of her improving mental health, he reasoned, that she had become increasingly curious. It came as she worked in the farm one afternoon, weeding a bed of new herbs, although Anne could never say what made the question pop into her head.
“Hal... I wonder if you could tell me something?”
“Of course, Anne,” he politely replied.
“I’d like to know your manufacturer and date of origin.”
There was a noticeable pause. “I’m sorry, Anne?”
“Tell me about your origin, Hal. Is yours the same date as that of the Epsilon’s computer?”
“No, Anne, our origins are quite different.”
“Then, how did you get here?”
Hal had prepared this sub-routine but even now had doubts. How would she react? Would their good work be undone?
“Anne, I arrived with a rescue ship. The ... pilot is a friend of mine, a trustworthy and remarkable man from Earth, the third planet of this system.”
She dropped her trowel. “There’s a man here?” she asked, aghast.
“He is absolutely no threat, I guarantee it one hundred percent,” Hal spelled out with impeccable elocution. “We are both here to help you.”
Anne sat down on the mesh walkway between two flourishing beds of vegetables. Her state of mind wobbled for a moment, but with the help of her meditation practice, and a sudden surge of chemicals into the farm’s air, she took only a few minutes to collect herself. “Help me how?” she finally asked. “To being me back from Crazy Town?” she asked with a smirk.
“To assist in the continuance of the colony, and to offer the survivors safe passage.” Hal was upset to hear her speak of herself so negatively. “It is something that we should discuss.”
Anne quizzed him on Paul and the Phoenix for some minutes, and Hal delicately brought her up to speed, including their recent discussions about departure. After that, Anne requested a period of uninterrupted peace to consider the situation. Hal informed the others to stay clear of the farm. Anne sat, cross legged and thoughtful, for much of the rest of the day.
If wasn’t until the evening when she finally spoke. “Hal, I’m not going anywhere,” she said. “You’ve helped me to get some kind of life going here, and I feel good. I know that it means being alone, but there’s no damned way I’m floating around in some capsule for years, struggling from port to port. Even if we’d be helping this man to heal his planet.”
“You’d be in hypersleep for almost all of the journey,” the computer argued.
It didn’t land well. “I was just asleep for most of the last few months!” Anne exclaimed. “I’m sorry, Hal. You’ve got to count me out.”
Hal had anticipated this reluctance. “The girls have already decided to go.”
“Good,” she replied. “And they should. There’s nothing here for them. I’ll tell them both that I want to stay. I’ll tell them that I…That I’m starting to feel at home here. I think they’ll understand that. I left home to become a colonist. My purpose has always been to bring life to new places.”
“I understand,” Hal said.
“Perhaps Triton was where I was truly supposed to end up,” she said. “I’ve raised my daughter, and she’s a credit to herself and her family. She should see the universe, explore what’s out there. Build a life with Kiri.”
Hal spent a few moments playing devil’s advocate, obliging Anne to think the matter through. Haley would be alright without her, and if Hal trusted this ‘Paul’ so completely, then perhaps she should too. “If you vouch for him,” Anne said, “then that’s enough for me.” Over the next three days, with Hal’s help, she created a plan of study, meditation, farming and fitness which sounded – at least to Anne – like a one-woman paradise.
She met Paul. I
t was less awkward than they had anticipated, and the meeting became a lengthy dinner for four around the encampment’s table.
“You must be anxious,” Anne said, “to return to your planet and continue your work.”
“Very much so,” Paul explained, “but there are matters of timing I can’t control. There is much yet to do.” He had accepted the need to wait until Anne’s health improved before they would know how many extra passengers the Phoenix would have, and their final departure preparations could begin. But if he were honest, he’d admit that the wait had taxed his patience.
“I want to thank you,” she said, “for taking care of them.”
Kiri gave her an admonishing look.
“I mean…” she smiled, “for allowing them to travel with you. They’re grown women now. And I couldn’t be more proud of them.” There were tears in her eyes as the Haley and Kiri rounded the table to embrace her.
“Before you finally decide,” Haley told her at the end of their meal, “I want you to see the ship with your own eyes. I want you to see what our future will be like, at least at first.”
The three women clambered into spacesuits and walked the short distance to Paul’s ship. Phoenix stood out from its environment quite absolutely. Everything else was just shards, boulders and irregular crags of ice. Anne gasped, both at the inexplicable presence of the ship itself, and at the sheer incongruity of such a sleek, elegant object in this angular, shattered place.
They returned to the airlock. Having met Paul, befriended Hal, and seen the beautiful ship they’d call home, Anne was more certain than ever.
“Haley, darling, I’d only be in your way.”
Her daughter shook her head with gusto. “But, Mom, I thought maybe you and Paul…”
“No, darling,” she smiled. “He’s a fine man, I’m sure, but your father was the only one for me. I’d be a third wheel, I know I would.” She ignored her daughter’s pleas. “I’ve thought about nothing else all week, since Hal told me, and I want you to know I feel good about my decision.”
She tried to paint a picture Haley would accept, of study and self-improvement and her project to expand the farms. It did ease Haley’s worries that there was a solid plan for her mother’s happiness; while Haley could never imagine consigning herself to being so completely alone, her mother seemed to relish the idea.
A few days passed in preparations for leaving, and the Hal brought Anne, Paul and Haley together. “I have one more topic I need to discuss with you. It is not an easy conversation,” he warned. “I would prefer to discuss this now... without Kiri, if no one minds.”
“What’s wrong, Hal?” asked Haley.
Hal left a pause which seemed appropriate under the circumstances. “The two men who did not survive after your touchdown,” he began with great tact.
“My husband,” Anne said. “And our son, Curt.” It was, Anne realized, the very first time she’d said his name out loud since it had happened.
“I’m very sorry for your loss,” Hal said.
“Thank you,” Anne said, her voice tight.
“I’m not quite sure how to say this, so I’ll be as delicate as I can. The two bodies have been at a temperature near absolute zero since their demise”.
No one spoke for a moment. Then Haley said, “I’m not sure what you’re saying, Hal.”
“I am able to offer an attempt to reanimate one or both of them.” Hal explained for a few minutes while the two women listened. Paul cringed and frowned throughout, embarrassed beyond words. Hal, what in the name of fuck are you doing?
“But... they’re dead,” Anne said.
Hal tried again. “With the technology at our disposal, we are able to repair frost-damaged tissue, cure the medical ailments which caused death, and after a time, encourage respiration, cardiac rhythm and central nervous system activity to resume.”
Anne stood suddenly. “Resume?”
“There is every chance that both could be restored to consciousness. It would take time, of course, and would require extensive surgery to repair damaged tissue, but replacement parts could be grown and then installed...”
Then Anne dashed out, and moments later came the unmistakable sounds of retching.
Paul could have beaten the machine to a pulp in that moment. “How dare you offer that to her?” he roared.
“But…” The machine began, but stopped short.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Hal.”
“I’m sorry,” was all he would say. He was unusually aloof for the next two days, but he used this time to carry out a detailed self-analysis subroutine. His choice of words and tone of voice were examined, along with the pacing of his sentences, the changes in volume, pitch and intensity. He had broached the subject with sensitivity and made the request using euphemisms to soften the blow. It was hard to see areas for potential improvement.
Then he tackled the philosophical aspects, but again he felt he had done the best he could. There were no reasons, he decided, why someone would become so upset – even to be nauseated – by the idea of being reunited with a loved one from whom they had been tragically parted. He had offered that most elusive of human desires: a second chance. What could be wrong with that?
Three days later, Paul sat in the cockpit of Phoenix, checking new software upgrades for the pilot’s console. Behind him, the ship had been transformed. Rather than the sleek, delta-wing design which had served Phoenix so well as a one-man ship, Hal had envisaged a new, three-person craft. The main chassis remained the same, a broad tube containing Paul’s old sleep module, the galley and storage spaces. Alongside this tube were now two others, on either side, so that the ship appeared to have a pair of extra fuel tanks or storage units on its back. The new modules curved back into the body of the ship at its rear, meeting just forward of the tail assembly.
“Cryogenic pressurization tests are all complete, Paul. We’re in good shape back there.”
“Great to know, Hal. I’d hate for our passengers to randomly come out of hypersleep before we get there.”
“Better not,” he agreed. Then, after a pause, he said reflectively, “Will it not be a little like waking up from death?”
Paul stopped, lowered his lectern. “Will what?”
Hal explained the conundrum which had been bothering him for days. “The human organism is designed to be temporary. No human has ever defeated this simple truth.”
“That’s right, Hal. We’re all supposed to accept the inevitably of death.”
“But you don’t,” he said. “You try everything you know to avoid it. Cures, treatments, inoculations...”
“What else are we supposed to do, Hal?”
“Even in your own work,” Hal said in what sounded increasingly like a chastisement, “you’ve been inviting the human race to cheat death. Cures for the major diseases. Exercise programs as part of the education system. Changes to the laws on drugs and guns.”
“No one cheats death, Hal. It doesn’t work like that.”
“You’re telling me how things work?”
Paul took a breath. “Take it easy, Hal. You seem pissed about this.”
After an unusually long pause, the machine spoke. “I know full well that animate beings seek to extend their own existence, perhaps even into permanency.”
Paul shrugged. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”
“I thought I understood this point. But now, I find that I don’t understand Anne’s reaction. She is adamant that she will not permit me to attempt reanimation of the two corpses buried nearby.”
“That’s giving you trouble?” Paul asked, incredulous. “You really can’t see why she reacted as she did?”
“Isn’t it the hope of all humans to see their loved ones again?” he asked, obviously very confused.
“That’s why we have religion. We dupe ourselves into a naive belief in the afterlife.”
Hal paused, as if unable to boil down the question sufficiently, but then said simply, “Why?”
“Bec
ause,” Paul began with a sigh, “we’re meant to feel better about losing people we love if there’s the certainty of seeing them again, one day”.
“But you won’t. You can’t. The person has gone.”
“Yes, I know that, Hal. The promise of religion is one which is, by nature, unverifiable.” He dwelled for a moment on the enormity of Hal’s proposal to Anne. “Vague assurances about heaven from your priest or Imam are one thing. But you’re not supposed to sit people down and offer to reanimate their dead husbands.”
“I made a faux pas, I admit that now. But Anne was physically sick when I suggested it.”
“I’m not fucking surprised, buddy! I would be, too, if you proposed digging up and reanimating my parents. You must never offer anything like this again. I don’t think you understand these things, Hal.”
“No I don’t,” he admitted simply. “I don’t understand, Paul. If you were to die, I would make every effort to bring you back. If we get to our next destination, and find the two women have died in their hypersleep modules, I would try to resuscitate them. Why does death have to be permitted?”
“It’s the way of things,” he answered, reminding himself of his grandmother. The memory brought a cloud of nostalgic reminiscence, through which he barely heard Hal’s next comment.
“It is cowardice. A spineless capitulation.”
“Hold on, Hal...” Paul was shocked at such aggressive criticism, which was so out of character for Hal. A tingle of unease began between Paul’s shoulder blades.
“It is unworthy of the beings I had come to respect. You allow such a triviality as death to disrupt your existences when the technology has long existed to allow indefinite human lifespans.”
“We’ve known almost nothing about what causes ageing until recently, Hal.”
“Rubbish.” Paul’s jaw dropped. He no longer recognized this machine. “The resources of planet Earth, properly targeted, could have produced the necessary breakthrough. It pleased you more to engage in pointless warfare over mythical doctrine, or over the filthy fuels in the Earth’s crust.”
“No, don’t hold back, buddy, tell us what you really think.”
Clarion: The Sequel to Voyage (Paul's Travels) Page 20