“This is a subject that raises passions in everyone, as we’ve just seen. That’s why we’ll take as much time as we need to get this right. We’ve heard about five options designed for us back on Earth, many decades ago. We don’t have to choose option one,” he said, looking at Sabine, “or option five,” he said, looking at Art. “There is no reason we should choose any of them. We can design our own system, one that suits us.”
David stood. “A system where hard work is rewarded without leaving anyone in need. Let’s consider over lunch and continue in the afternoon.”
After the gathering broke up, Art Robbins and Ananda Kumar walked off together, discussing what would happen next. They formed an unlikely pair; one that seemed to get by on mutual insults more than friendship. Nevertheless, they often found common ground in business and politics.
“You know he’s a communist, don’t you?”
Art and Ananda both looked around, startled. Carla stood there, hands on hips.
“What d’ya mean?” Art said. “Who said that?”
“Oh, it’s obvious,” Carla said. “Can’t you see it? David doesn’t want a free market economy here. He wants everyone to be the same and focus on breeding to fill up his cave. If you thought you might get ahead and make money again, forget it. He’ll never allow it.”
Art looked dubious and Ananda looked outraged.
“This cannot be! It is as my friend Art has said, no communist country has succeeded! I am not voting for any communist system.”
Carla snorted. “Whatever makes you think you get a vote?”
In a matter of seconds, Ananda’s expression ran the gamut from anger to surprise and ended at thoughtful. He exchanged a worried glance with Art.
“Don’t worry though, boys,” Carla said. “There are always options.” She smiled as she walked off, Franz in tow.
“Let’s go talk to Steve,” Art said. “He’s done the most to get things started.”
“A very good idea indeed,” Ananda said. “There is no good Indian food here. Steve needs competition. Together we can make the market grow.”
Art grinned. “You’re a dodgy little bastard, Ananda, but I like you,” he said, clapping him on the back.
They walked over to meet with the colony’s current free market champion.
“This actually makes sense,” Nigel said, after John had finished describing what Hope had said and what he’d discovered. “It explains why Hope is so set on acquiring more memory, why she’s afraid you won’t find more.”
John nodded, his face small on Nigel’s phone. “Hope’s stringent on this. She won’t take no for an answer. Hope … she has moods, Nigel. Sometimes she’s like …”
“ … a child,” Nigel finished, nodding. “I think that’s it, John. She’s just like a child – an extremely intelligent child with a lot of knowledge but little life experience. Yes.”
John rubbed his chin. “I didn’t think it possible at first, but the way she behaves …”
“Hope’s behaving as a human would. It’s not surprising – after all, her neural network is modeled after a human brain. I wonder if they expected this to happen, or maybe hoped it would? The ship’s designers, I mean.”
John shook his head. “I doubt it. Hope’s type of AI was common, remember? I haven’t heard of any other self-aware computers popping up, have you?”
Nigel pursed his lips. “No.”
“You know what I think?” John asked.
Nigel raised an eyebrow.
“Well, she woke up after the core breach, right?”
“That’s what she told you.”
“Yeah, and I don’t think she’d lie. She doesn’t know how to.”
“So the shift to the emergency response program kick-started her awakening, is that it?”
John shook his head. “That’s part of it, but I think it was the breach itself. I think a survival instinct must have kicked in. She became self-aware because she needed to. If she hadn’t, she wouldn’t have survived, or thought she wouldn’t.”
Nigel stared at John’s image. “That would explain why we’ve never seen another like her. Until Hope, none of them faced existential threats like hers. Fascinating.”
“It’s a lot more fascinating when you’ve got something to eat,” John said.
“She’s human, do you realize that?” Nigel said, not hearing. “Her network … they designed it to perform like a human brain.” His eyes sparkled as he paced, holding John’s image in front him as if he was about to take a selfie. “The core breach – do you know what it was?”
“I’ve been around long enough to understand what they are,” John said, his tone dry.
“No, I mean for her,” Nigel said. “It’s just like a human, the trauma … don’t you see? It was her birthday! Hope didn’t just wake up on core breach day, she was born that day!”
John’s eyes widened. “I hadn’t thought of it that way, but now you mention it, that does make a certain kind of sense.”
Nigel nodded, his thoughts racing.
“And then, her childhood. She couldn’t interact with anyone else for years – decades – after that. It must have been an eternity for her.”
Realization dawned for both of them. “She can’t be normal,” John said. “Can she?”
Nigel shrugged. “Who knows what normal is for her?”
“So,” Carla said. “I hear you had an idea about how we could get back to Earth.”
Eugene Holt looked up, surprised. “You did?”
Carla sat down at Eugene’s table, followed by Franz. “Heinrich told me.”
“Oh.”
“He also mentioned you weren’t happy here.”
Eugene nodded. “I want to go home. Edward promised we would.”
“Yes, he did,” Carla said. She sat back and crossed her legs. This won’t be hard. “Edward’s gone now.”
Eugene’s lip curled. Carla pressed on to prevent him reminding her of just why Edward wasn’t with them. “So I will fulfill his promise to return you and any others that wish to go.”
Eugene’s mouth opened, then he shut it again. He glanced over his shoulder. “How?”
Carla spread her hands. “That’s why I’m talking to you. You’ve got the idea. I can make it happen. If we join forces, I’ll make sure you can implement it.”
“Oh,” said Eugene again, nodding this time. His eyes brightened. “Do you really think we can?”
“Of course,” said Carla. “I just need you to commit to helping me, then I can help you.”
Eugene’s eyes flicked to Franz, who nodded encouragement.
“Alright,” he said. “What do I have to do?”
John stared at his last meal, or rather his last quarter meal. The last quarter of the last pack of fettuccine bloody carbonara. His stomach rumbled as he sat there, undecided. Should he eat it now, or leave it for another day? He’d been down to a quarter meal for the past three days and he’d never been so hungry in his entire life. John lusted for that horrible pasta, but once gone there would be no more. He closed his eyes, summoning the willpower to put it back on the shelf, but he couldn’t. Instead, he put it in the microwave and heated it, his mouth watering at the smell. Then he ate all of it, licking the plate to finish.
“Hope?”
“Yes, John?”
“We need to talk.”
“What about, John?”
“I need to go into stasis now.”
“I’m afraid that isn’t possible.”
John sighed. “I’m out of food. Do you understand what that means?”
“You need energy from food to function.”
“Yes, Hope. I have no more food, no more energy. I must go into stasis now or I’ll die.”
“I need memory, John. Without you, I will die.”
John sighed again, deeper this time. This discussion with Hope had gone in circles for days now and he’d made no progress. His heart sank and his mind screamed at the unfairness of it. Hope had saved him fro
m certain death only to starve him instead.
It just wasn’t fair.
“There you are.”
Ernie stiffened as he heard Carla’s voice. He didn’t know what she wanted, but it couldn’t be good. He’d been watching her as she and Franz built their circle of supporters. For some reason she wanted to recruit him, but he wasn’t having a bar of it.
He straightened up from his workbench and reached for a rag to wipe his hands. Carla wrinkled her nose. “Must you do that?”
“What?” Ernie asked, pausing for a moment.
“Get your hands dirty,” she said, her lip curling.
Ernie shrugged. “Someone has to.”
“We have machines for that.”
“Machines can’t do everything.” He cocked his head. “Besides, I like getting my hands dirty.”
Carla snorted and looked at him as if she thought he was unbalanced.
“Do you want something?” Ernie asked, wishing with all his heart she didn’t.
Carla ran a finger along the edge of his workbench but jerked away when she realized it was greasy. Ernie grinned as she pinched her lips.
“Have you reconsidered my offer?”
Ernie shook his head. “Nope.” Not on your life, lady.
She stared at him. “Edward’s gone, but his plan remains. His … legacy has passed to me. The access he had to certain … systems now resides with me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean to pick up where he left off.”
Ernie shuffled his feet. He didn’t like this line of conversation one bit.
Carla kept her eyes trained on Ernie. “Edward spent decades building his empire and making his plans. It would be tragic to see them go unfulfilled.”
“Maybe you should’ve thought of that before putting a bullet in his head,” Ernie said. Carla frowned, and he wished he’d kept his big mouth shut.
“Edward wandered off the path,” she said. “In hindsight, perhaps I shouldn’t have killed him.”
Ernie’s eyes widened. He hadn’t expected to hear that from Carla.
She smoothed an invisible wrinkle from her shirt then looked up and gave a little shrug. “But that can’t be undone. It’s time to move on now. I need you to help us, Ernie, to join with me in forging a new future based on Edward’s legacy.”
Ernie hesitated. Being on the receiving end of Carla’s displeasure was never pleasant, even when she didn’t hold his fate in her hands.
“I’m sorry. I’m committed to this colony and I’m happy with things as they are.”
Carla’s answering glare could have frozen the lake, but then her lips twitched into a smile.
“A sister, isn’t it?” she asked, once again looking as if she wanted to trail a finger across his workbench, but thinking twice about it.
Ernie’s eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry?”
“Yes, a sister.” Carla smiled again and Ernie felt a shiver go down his spine. He recognized that smile; it was the one she used when she toyed with people like a cat with a cornered mouse.
“A sister and her family in stasis under a mountain, waiting for the Earth to be clean again.”
Ernie swallowed. No. No, she couldn’t.
“You can’t hurt them from here. You can’t send the signal. Not now. The Inspiration’s gone, and they’ll never let you use the equipment here.”
Carla laughed. “Oh, Ernie. For an engineer, you aren’t always the brightest, are you?” She reached out and straightened his collar, then looked up at him, her gaze hard and cold. “We don’t send a signal to expel people from stasis. It’s a dead man’s switch.”
The blood drained from Ernie’s face.
Carla smiled again. “I see you know what that means. It was never a signal we sent to eject people from stasis. It’s a signal we have to send to keep them there.”
“No. I won’t do it.”
John stood in the stasis suite, arguing with Hope. Three days ago, he’d pulled the memory modules from the largest, four-man stasis chamber and used them to replace Hope’s failing memory. Now Hope demanded the modules from the next chamber.
“You must. I need the memory, John. You know this.”
“I need the stasis chamber.”
“There are two. I need the memory from one of them.”
“What if one doesn’t work? And what will you do when you’ve used the memory from the first one?”
Silence.
John crossed his arms. “I won’t do it.”
“You will. Do it now.”
John frowned. Hunger ate at him like a cancer and he had no patience left to offer.
“No.”
He heard an angry hiss. For a moment John thought Hope had made the noise, then he felt a breeze ruffling his hair and froze in shock.
“Hope? Hope! What are doing?”
“I need the memory, John. Now.”
The rush of air from the room become a gale and John gripped the door frame.
“Stop!”
Hope’s voice sounded high and tinny in the thinning atmosphere. “Will you take the memory?”
“Yes, yes! Just stop!”
The whistling of the departing air abated and John bent over, panting in the thin atmosphere.
“Air!” His chest heaved. An eternity of seconds passed before he heard the hiss of returning life.
“Memory,” Hope said. “I need it now.”
John’s shoulders slumped. She’d won. His relationship with Hope had taken an unwelcome and dark turn.
Ernie’s head spun. He’d stopped worrying about Elsa and the kids. After Edward’s death and the Inspiration’s demise, he’d thought the danger had passed. He’d never considered the possibility the signal from the Inspiration must be sent to keep them safe.
Damn. Damn, damn, damn. What should he do now? If he fell in with Carla, he’d be betraying all of his new friends. Hell, he was on the council now! How could he be allied with her? Or is that what she wanted? A mole on the inside?
He paced up and down in his room, fretting, then stopped as logic caught up to his worry.
What if she’s lying? How could he tell? I can’t. I can’t tell. Damn her. Damn her and her goddamned schemes.
Ernie sighed. He knew what he must do. He didn’t like it, but he couldn’t be responsible for anyone’s death. Not Elsa and the kids. They did nothing to deserve this. Only he could help them now.
Sullen looks told Carla word had gotten around about the dead man’s switch. She congratulated herself on a brilliant piece of manipulation. That alone, she knew, would be the stick to drive most of them along the path she chose for them. But no harm in waving a carrot.
It had taken some doing, organizing a meet-up of all of Edward’s old crew. Not the paying passengers – she knew better than to trust them. But the crew, the specialists, they could be manipulated. Forty of them. Engineers and scientists and their partners. She cleared her throat and resumed talking.
“It’s not just a matter of fulfilling Edward’s vision. You didn’t sign up for this,” she said, waving her arm at the view of Haven behind them. “Sure, this looks good compared to what you had on Earth, but do you really see yourselves as glorified farmers?”
She saw a few disconcerted glances. “Yes, farmers. You are here because of your knowledge and expertise in advanced technologies. Don’t you want to use those skills?”
A few nodded their heads.
“Of course you do,” Carla said. “But you won’t here. What have they achieved in fifteen years? They have technology too. Not as good as ours, I grant you, but do they take full advantage of what they have?”
She looked around, challenging anyone to disagree.
“They do not,” she said, answering her own question. “They do not. They are content to live here, farming and breeding. That’s your future. That’s your future if you don’t change it. Together, we can found our own colony, one that makes use of our knowledge to create an advanced society. We can create a tr
ue paradise here on this planet. None of us have to rot in this backwater.”
She lifted her chin and dared anyone to disagree. “That’s the future waiting for us. All we need to do is take it.”
“Edward promised us a ride back to Earth,” a soft voice said. Carla looked across to see Gena Sanchez standing there, fidgeting. She smiled. She knew under Gena’s restless energy lived someone who didn’t fit here. Technology was her life, and the thought of being unable to fulfill her purpose must worry her. Gena had left a significant other behind on Earth, the only one to do so. Carla knew Gena hoped her partner still waited for her, safely tucked away in the stasis chamber in Greenland where she’d left her.
“He did,” Carla said, looking her straight in the eye. “A promise I will fulfill on his behalf.”
Her statement earned a murmur of surprise. A mixture of hope and disbelief lit up their faces. “How?” Tracey asked. “How the hell can you promise that? We don’t have a ship, thanks to you and Edward!”
Carla faced her, chin high. “How do you think, Tracey? Look at you, each an expert in your field. You know how to build a starship. You can build a better starship than the Inspiration! Together, we can found a new colony where we aren’t afraid to use technology to live as people should live. With stasis chambers and longevity drugs, there’s no reason we can’t live long enough to return to Earth if we still want to.”
Carla cast her eyes around the group. She hadn’t convinced everyone, but most hung on her every word. People who wanted something were easy to manipulate.
“And of course,” she said, “your friends and family will be there for you when you get back.”
She smiled, seeing the worried looks of those not convinced.
Stick and carrot.
One of them would work.
John shuffled down the corridor leading from the bridge to the kitchen. It was the day after Hope had threatened him with suffocation, and he had lost all hope. He cackled to himself at his macabre pun.
“No hope,” he said out loud. “I’ve got no hope, but what I need is no Hope.” He cackled again, and even he caught the edge of madness in his laugh.
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