Faith shivered at that thought, what if she was beginning to become like her mother? What if she too was destined to betray everyone and everything she loved? Faith dismissed it as impossible, not because she couldn’t see herself becoming that dark, but because she couldn’t recognize anything she loved. She didn’t even trust her father enough to love really him anymore. Faith most assuredly didn’t love herself.
Faith joined her father in the great room of the apartment. Her father was angrily swiping through the channels on the media screen. “Where is this stupid school?”
Her father turned to face her, “So you have decided to go to the school?” Faith shrugged unenthusiastically. Her father pointed to the table next to the front door. There was an envelope. Faith picked up the envelope inside was a thumb drive and a map. The drive was like one used to program open destination portals. She could plug it into an open destination portal for a moment and then when she walked through, she would be at her destination. Faith looked at the map. It showed the route from the portal to the school. The school appeared to be just outside of a town called Sugar Town. The portal was in the central square of the town. Faith looked to her father. He had dismissed her from his mind. She had her choice. Perhaps he would speak to her again after she had spent some time at the school. What did she have to lose?
- - - - - - -
Luka Peterson didn’t particularly like his name. He preferred Beaker, it tied in with his interest in the sciences. He looked at his reflection in his tablet. His hair was nearly white blonde and his eyes were a pale blue. It was a coloration totally out of correspondence to his parents. He had actually run DNA scans on them in the sly to confirm they were, in fact, his parents. He spent a great deal of time In his parent’s lab. That was where he was at that moment. His tablet lit up revealing results were ready. He tapped the screen bringing up the results and the interpretation tables.
Surprised by what the test was telling him, Beaker ran the mineral sample through a scanner again. Then he compared the resulting readings to the table on his tablet. It was just the final confirmation of the theory he had formed because of his geological explorations around his home ranch. The ranch and everything around it had to be somewhere beneath the surface of a largish asteroid. Iridium levels in every sample were higher than those found on most terrestrial worlds. Also, the processes required to form many of the stranger minerals were not possible in a gravitational field of any real strength, and there was no sign of passage through an atmosphere. The sky above him had to be simulated. The mountains surrounding the valley he lived in were just set dressings. His parents were lying to him about the most fundamental realities of his life.
The discipline of a true scientist forced Beaker to return the scanners, equipment and solvents he had been using to their proper places. His parents didn’t mind him using their lab, as long as he put things right when he was finished. The whole time Beaker was cleaning up, the new truths of his reality swirled in his mind. Many of his younger friends in the razorwolf clan that shared the valley with the ranch believed, as he had, that this was a legitimate world. He couldn’t wait to tell them what he found. They had helped collect the various samples for him. It had been difficult for some of them; they weren’t truebreed or palmfoot, the only tools they possessed were their claws, teeth, and telekinetic abilities.
Beaker gathered up his tablet with his results and headed off to tell his friends. On the way out of the lab he reconsidered, instead of his friends, Beaker decided to tell his parents. Beaker looked at the time and headed directly to the kitchen. His parents should still be munching on a leisurely breakfast.
He found them exactly how he expected to. His mother had dark brown hair his father’s hair shaded slightly to the red. They were both taller than his charts counted as average for a human; it wasn’t a surprise. Neither was human. They were both Briaunti, members of a species genetically engineered into existence at the beginning of the of the old omniverse. That omniverse had died a horrible death and only the worlds of the Preserve and a few other scattered remnants still existed. Outside of the Preserve, a new omniverse had been born.
Yes, his parents were exactly how he expected them to be. They however, did not expect him. They no doubt thought he was still out ranging over the ranch with his razorwolf friends as he had been for the past several days, until early this morning.
“Mom, dad, I know we are living inside an asteroid.”
Beaker’s father blinked, and sipped his coffee, “Of course Luka.”
“Why did you let me believe we lived on a planet like on the media screen?” Beaker asked.
“Luka, dear, we never told you we lived on a planet. You just never asked,” his mother stated, “I suppose you have questions.”
“Who built this place? How? How is it we have gravity? I mean my samples indicate there shouldn’t be enough gravity to hold us to the ground,” Beaker overflowed with questions.
“We built it. Or rather we designed it and left it to our construction bots to build. The gravity generators are offshoots of elementary dimensional folding technologies, which we by the way used to wrap our asteroid in its own bubble of space-time,” Beaker’s father answered.
“We aren’t even a part of the Preserve?”
“Luka, darling, we aren’t a part of the Preserve, our shelter exists within the Preserve, We could just as easily be within the outer omniverse. Our shelter gives us options.” His mother took a sip of her orange juice. They were being so matter of fact with truths that were practically blowing Beaker’s mind.
“A shelter? Why aren’t there more people here? Didn’t you try to save some?” Beaker asked in distress.
His mother sighed, “We saved as much as we could. Most everyone and everything we saved is within our shelter. The elders of your friends’ tribe of razorwolves were the only ones who wanted to stay with us. I don’t blame most people. The Preserve is infinitely larger, with more material and cultural resources.”
“When… what… why… when… how...” Beaker asked.
“Those are the basic questions...” His father smiled, “Actually son, we are really proud of you for figuring this out on your own.” Beaker’s father smiled, “We have been waiting for the right moment to offer you the option of more intensive scientific studies.”
Beaker raised an eyebrow, “Are you giving me my own lab? A private tutor? Access to the full media library?”
His mother smiled, “We are offering you the chance to be a member of the first graduating class of Aspirations Academy. It is a special school. One which has been organized to allow gifted students the opportunity to succeed or fail based on their own merits, without the influence of prior family accomplishments.”
Beaker frowned, “But if you drop me off every day won’t everyone know you are my parents? You guys haven’t accomplished anything, wouldn’t that handicap me?”
His parents looked each other in the eyes, exchanged smiles and suppressed laughter, “Honey, it is a boarding school. You would be expected to take on a new name and identity. We wouldn’t be able to visit you until graduation,” His mother stated.
His father bit his lip, “Unless you are planning to be a troublemaker. If disciplinary action must be taken, we could be called in. It would most likely mean you were coming home.”
Beaker took in the information. Everything he knew about science, chemistry, and geology he had taught himself by experimentation, and searching the heavily redacted data banks of the ranch. They were offering him a high quality formal science education. He could learn so much. He would miss his friends, but they would understand and support him. “When do I leave?”
His parents smiled at each other, “As soon as you can pack and let your friends know where you are going.”
Beaker smiled, “So tomorrow morning. Cool! May I be the first to introduce you to Beaker Corduroy.”
His parents blinked. “Wasn’t Corduroy the name of your first teddy?” His mother conf
irmed.
“Yeah mom! And I am bringing him with me!” Beaker raced off to his room and began haphazardly packing his travel bag. It already held basic survival supplies in one infinitely large pocket. Another held his geological tools and a few of the scanners that the delivery cupboard let him order. He packed the rest of his scanners in that pocket and moved on to the next infinitely large zippered pocket. He shoved his clothes in randomly, directly from where they lay. About half of them should be laundered first, but he figured he could do that later. The last infinite pocket received his memorabilia. It included diagrams and models he had made and a molecular reprint of an autographed first edition of his favorite comic, “First Aid.” All packed, Beaker slung his nearly weightless bag over his shoulder and headed out to let his dear friends know it would be a while before they saw each other again.
- - - - - - -
To begin with, it was just a spark. It was of limited intelligence until its nanites reached the nucleus of the egg. It had been pre-programmed to trigger a reaction in the genetic material of the egg. That reaction led to the formation of an embryo. As the embryo grew rapidly so did it. New nanites self-assembled more quickly than cells could form and each nanites sped along the developments of its host cell. New senses developed as both nanites and biological development continued. The first sense was time. Its nanites ticked away the seconds then minutes. There was no line between the embryo and the machine. As nanites grew in number, so did its capabilities. After the creation of ten thousand new nanites, it gained the ability to fold space and time. With that skill it began capturing ambient radiation and storing it as energy for its use. That energy sped development further.
Less than an hour since conception it had reached a new level of development. According to the DNA of the diploid egg, it had reached a level of complexity equivalent to three weeks of normal gestation. Nerve cells were beginning to form, and it linked them more quickly than was natural. It assisted in the process of neural migration and the formation of the embryo’s spine, and its brain. It was conscious of the processes of life in the way no program had ever been before. Over a matter of hours, its assistance in gestation brought the pregnancy much further than the embryo could alone. Integrated into every cell, it didn’t guide the formation of identity and intelligence; it became the identity.
It sent nanites to explore its environment. Thanks to the folding of space the nanites remained part of the whole despite the distance traveled. It absorbed information flowing through the mind of its host, its mother. She was female,. It was of her DNA alone. It was female. It would have been even if the egg had been naturally fertilized. Her species only incorporated the DNA of a male in times of extreme physical stress, and they had yet to be stressed enough to produce a male child. It rolled the concept of that sexual role around in its mind. It didn’t quite fit. The embryo felt it should be male. It attempted to change its development to reflect that, but the genes would not be denied, and even the attempt was almost enough for its mother to abort it. It would be female, but in rebellion it named itself as though it were male, Stone. Perhaps things could be corrected once it was no longer dependent on its mother.
Stone rolled the idea of femininity around her mind. It jaggedly wore against her sense of self, but she accepted it for now. Things were getting crowded in the womb. She clocked her development at the end of the third trimester. It seemed it had been forever, but her absolute measurement of time told her it has been two weeks, three days, 22 hours since her conception. Every moment brought her closer to the universe outside. Labor was painful for her mother, as much of the pregnancy had been. Stone retracted all of her nanites from her mother’s system and prepared for expulsion from the womb. The contractions were none to comfortable for her. In truth it was becoming uncomfortable. Finally a flash of inspiration struck and Stone wrapped herself in her nanites and folded space to make the surface presented to the birth canal smaller. With the sudden reduction of pressure, labor nearly stopped. Stone chemically stimulated it and began maneuvering herself out of the birth canal without much further aid from her mother.
Stone emerged. Light and sound flooded her nanite sensors. The sensory overload which resulted collapsed the space-time bubble around her body revealing her to her parents. The doctor passed Stone into her mother’s arms. She saw her mother through bleary eyes. Stone corrected the vision with her nanites. The room became clear to her. The doctor was female by her secondary sexual characteristics, but her hair was shorter than Stone expected of a woman, and unnaturally violet. Stone’s mother passed her to her father. Stone saw him immediately for what he was, a sentient AI based in a construct of assembled nanites which resembled a man with crayon red hair. She could see the flow of information through his pseudo-circuitry. He was all machine. Stone interfaced with his nanites. She began downloading his data-banks. At first he didn’t notice then he slowed the transfer of data.
“Little one, you are awfully young to be so curious,” He stated in a pleasing male voice.
Stone followed his words all the way back to the speech algorithms that created them. She cleared her throat and attempted to reply. Her infant body wasn’t able to produce the sounds. It was not a matter of knowing an algorithm. She traced through the things she learned from within her mother. That was enough for Stone to realize her vocal apparatus was not developed enough. Stone set her free floating nanites to fix the deficiency. Her father cradled her in his arms for several minutes, scanning her for defects. Stone could feel her mother’s eyes on her.
The nanites finished their task, “Father, I am quite capable of independent thought. I need data to form correct impressions and conclusions about the nature of reality.”
Her father’s grip on her didn’t waver or display an emotional response to her words. Stone’s mother audibly gasped, “She just spoke.”
The doctor dropped a device she was preparing to use to scan Stone. “That she did. Perhaps I should just ask her how she feels. All things considered I bet her assessment would be as accurate as my scans.”
“My health is optimal. Despite my personal inclinations, I have developed into a perfectly normal female Kisans cyborg.”
The colorful doctor put her hands on her hips, “Young lady, there is nothing normal about a congenital Kisan cyborg. What personal inclinations?”
“I do not feel that female accurately describes my sense of self. Genetically I am female, but intellectually I am quite male,” Stone replied.
“Why didn’t you adjust that in utero?” The doctor asked.
“Mother’s body would not accept embryonic revisions,” Stone stated.
“The hormones required would upset her body. Unfortunately that is probably a larger component in the near impossibility of a male Kisan,” The doctor said picking up a tablet. Stone could see through its circuitry that she was making an electronic note to explore the problem with simulations.
Stone was still growing, and developing as an organism. It was becoming clear to her that she needed immediate nourishment. “Mother, father, I am starving. The ambient radiation is not sufficient to sustain me at this level of development.”
The adult life-forms scrambled to produce a bottle as her mother had not had time to produce milk. Stone gratefully accepted the calorie rich milk. It did take some calculation to manage to take it in. Apparently the mechanical intervention of the nanites during gestation had impaired the natural instinct to suck. Eventually, Stone got the hang of it.
Stone continued to grow and develop at an accelerated rate. By the end of forty-eight hours, Stone was the size of a five-year-old human. Her intellectual development and knowledge base were significantly greater than either of her parents could understand. Those first two days were a literal and proverbial blur for Stone and her parents. They spent ninety percent of the time rushing calories into her. The other ten percent of the time, Stone’s father donated electrical energy to her nanites. One aspect of her dietary needs no one suspected were t
he rare minerals and metals she required as her population of nanites blossomed to the optimum numbers for full functionality. Her father was originally conceived as a program for a multimorphic suit. Multimorphic suits were used by factors as protection and backup. For him full functionality meant trillions of nanites many of which were held in reserve in artificial space-time bubbles. Full functionality for Stone included trillions more to both act as a suit and to partner with each and every cell in her body.
The morning of the third day Stone awoke to the noise of a loud debate in the kitchen, “She needs the social interaction!” Her mother practically yelled.
Her father responded in a reasonable and emotionally level tone at a similar volume, “I am not certain that elementary education is the proper place to learn that.”
Stone rose from her bed and withdrew her nanite pseudo-charging cord from the socket her parents had installed to sustain her through the night. She was actively slowing her development but still needed supplementary energy to make it through the night without a meal. The first thing she did when her feet hit the floor was rearrange her nanites from a nightgown to something appropriate for daytime wear. Then she eliminated her biological wastes and proceeded towards the raised voices.
“I don’t know what else we can do. She is too mature for nursery school. When I got pregnant, I didn’t think things would advance this fast!” Stone’s mother barked.
“I believe she is too mature for grade school. I am thinking perhaps we should consider Aspirations Academy,” Stone heard her father state.
Stone entered the kitchen abruptly, “Mother, Father, what is Aspiration Academy?”
Both of her parents turned to face Stone. Her mother was clearly upset. “Stone, don’t worry about it.”
“I think she has every right to worry about it. We are talking about her future...” Stone’s father pointed out.
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