Long Ago
Ayla watched the Captain leave the Bridge, but she remained with Canaisis for a while, her mind flowing with infinite numbers beyond her understanding. What drew her were the emotions tainting them, surging from the depths of their source. Fear, relief... and something more. It was Canaisis' moment of shutdown that drew Ayla's attention, and an anger that brewed within.
The anger was put aside, but it was not gone. Canaisis looked out beyond the solar system and headed for the edge of deep space. Setting a course far away from anything that could hurt her or her Captain. Her Captain, who was on his way to check on his passengers.
He had a mission now! He'd accepted, and a sense of joy and relief flowed through Canaisis.
Ayla followed the Captain via Canaisis' senses as he entered an elevator. The very metal of Canaisis' body was woven with a neural network that could only be described as biological in complexity and nature. Thus she did not 'see' the Captain as a Human would, she saw the electrical flow of his nervous system throughout his body. She saw his brain activate his leg muscles to walk, the bio-feedback of the nerves of his arms as they swung back and forth. To Ayla, this form of vision was both profound and unsettling.
Canaisis was very different when she was young, Ayla noted. Much smaller and very different. How much more could she see as she grew? Ayla watched as the playback continued. But, as the Captain stepped out of the elevator, she was drawn to him...
∞
Gareth headed for the blast door that sealed the cold sleep chamber. He keyed the access and entered the somberly quiet room. The room was long and narrow, with pods lining the right-hand side. Walking past each pod, he checked each panel of indicators as the stress of the last few days tried to catch up with him.
He arrived at the last of the crew pods and noted the difference in the pods that continued. These were the pods constructed for the few hundred survivors he and his crew had found. He was glad that these people had chosen to make the journey. But many had chosen to remain on Earth. After all, they'd grown up in the hell the planet had become. They knew nothing different. He had no way of knowing if they'd made the right choice or not, but he was skeptical.
Earth would recover thousands of years from now. It always did. But that didn't mean Humanity would. Their destination might not be any better, but it improved Humanity's odds. They were headed for the constellation of Dorado, the TOI 700 system, a red dwarf only fifty-five percent as hot as Sol. The planet TOI 700d was an exoplanet, twenty percent larger than Earth, and tidally locked. It received thirty-five percent more EUV light than Earth.
With the planet tidally locked with one side forever facing its sun, the atmosphere cooled the dayside and warmed the night side via convection currents. The weather there would be interesting, with winds always blowing in one direction. But at least it was breathable. The ultraviolet light would be an issue until Humanity adapted, but habitation along the twilight edge was certainly possible.
Dorado was 101 light-years away from Earth, so it would be two hundred years plus before he could return. A little less than two decades, ship time.
At the last cold sleep pod, he turned to look at the row of transparent metal bubbles. Two hundred and eighty-seven occupants. He was too weary to put a label on how that made him feel.
Satisfied all was in order, he headed back the way he'd come, his hand reaching out to touch each pod in passing. He turned outside the blast door as it closed to gaze into the cold sleep chamber. It looked small and vulnerable. Within him, his resolve to see the Mission through hardened.
"Canaisis, prioritize all systems that suffered hard damage, then tell me where to start first and what tools I need to bring. I'm heading to the machine room now."
"You should rest, Captain."
"I will, but not right now."
"Aye, Captain. Navigation Long Range Telescopes suffer from misalignment. I'm compensating, but I'd feel better with my vision restored."
"I agree, Canaisis. Especially after what just happened. Alright, I'll take the nearest airlock from the machine room and walk from there. We need to come up with something better for moving around the hull, that's for sure, since it's just you and me."
"I'll put some thought to it, Captain. Given time, I can assume autonomous control of all systems, but as long as we're in this system, I feel time is of the essence after what just happened."
"You and me both."
Suiting up once again was not a joy to him like it usually was. He'd been wearing a suit too much these last few days, resulting in uncomfortable chafe spots. When the airlock cycled and the outer door opened, the stars of the Universe greeted him. He gave the stars the recognition of respect they deserved, a salute, then focused on his duty.
He stepped out onto the hull, his boots anchoring him, and he turned his gaze toward the rear of the ship. The engines' exhaust nozzles glowed a dull red as they cooled, with the engines shut down for his space-walk. Past them, he saw the brightest star in the expanse, Sol. Then he found the small marbles that were Earth and Luna. Earth was a dark murky ball barely visible in the blackness, and it evoked emotions he couldn't describe. Clenching his jaw, he reminded himself that he was Captain, and that made him focus on both his ship and what he was doing.
The walk forward was a long one, and the curve of Canaisis' central hull blocked his view of the bow. Holding onto the toolbox in his right hand, he concentrated on making sure he had magnetic lock at each step, his breath loud in his helmet. Space-walking was something he did routinely, and it felt good to be doing something familiar.
Just before the crest of the central bulge of Canaisis' hull, the blackening of the hull began. Gareth swept his helmet lights from side to side as he stepped forward, examining the damage. He'd expected as much.
But the sight from atop the crest shocked him. Sol shedded enough illumination for him to see how extensive the damage was. The entire bow was one giant mess of slag and scorched metal. Sections had holes gaping where the metal had melted inward.
His heart ached at how bad it was.
"Oh, Canaisis, what have you done to yourself?" He spoke aloud without thinking.
"I did what I had to, Captain. It's not as bad as it looks."
"The hell you say!" he shouted in dismay, his exhaustion temporarily forgotten. "I'm looking at areas with complete primary hull failure! If the secondary hull hadn't held, you'd be dead, Canaisis! Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"Yes, I do, Captain. The risk was necessary for the success of the Mission. Repairs can be made."
"Yes, they can be. But not during flight—I won't risk it or you. We're making repairs before we go FTL, do you hear me? And don't you ever do this again! Or withhold from me just how bad the damage is!"
"Aye, Captain, I hear you. Where would you suggest we gather materials?"
That halted Gareth's emotional reaction and made him think. Where was there a safe place? The asteroid belt was out—no telling what automated system sat waiting to launch an attack. It was too easy to hide a weapons platform inside the asteroid belt, and darn near impossible to detect. Jupiter, Saturn, and their moons had been heavily developed when he left Sol three hundred Earth years ago—no telling how much had changed there since then, either. Right now, any place of civilization could be a threat.
Just what had happened here, and why? They'd detected no life on the way in-system, nor energy sources. But, in a war setting, would they? In war, anything detectable was a potential target. So, where was a safe place to gather raw materials? It had to be some place where Humans would have been scarce, even accounting for the time he'd been gone.
"Take us over the planetary plane and bring us down into the Kuiper Belt at about 42 AU. That should give you plenty of time to catalog asteroids and be far enough out of the way to not run into trouble."
"Aye, Captain. Plotting a course for potential locations based on our records. As long as nothing has affected the orbits, I can predict their current locations."
"Actually, that's a good point. Be on the lookout for anything that isn't where it's supposed to be. It could mean that Mankind was present at one time."
"Very good, Captain. My telescopes will need to be at hundred percent to catalog whole regions of the belt."
"Okay, Canaisis. I can take a hint. I just need to be mad at you for a while, even if you did save my life."
"Noted, Captain."
He couldn't help but give a little chuckle at Canaisis' deadpan answer.
"Does that mean you are over being angry, Captain?"
He was glad Canaisis couldn't see his smile inside the helmet. At least, not optically. If the part of the hull he was standing on was still alive, then Canaisis could see every electrical impulse that his nerves carried. Even so, that wasn't the same as actually seeing.
"No, it doesn't. Look at my ship! I'm going to be angry for a long time!"
"As long as you're alive to do it, I can accept that."
That sobered him up. "Canaisis, on Earth you implied you could disobey a direct order. Is that possible? Can you?"
"No, Captain. I implied that you're the Captain of this ship and I accept no other. A captain has priority over all other subsystems—even you cannot order me to go against that."
"Yes, I remember your command hierarchy. But your choosing no other Captain wasn't part of that."
"The command hierarchy built into my foundation was designed to prevent me from editing or changing it. It does not prevent me from adding to it, however. I have chosen you."
Stunned, Gareth tried to follow all the implications to their conclusion, but it was too much for him. The engineers had never thought of this being done. They'd worried about all kinds of situations as an A.I. of Canaisis' magnitude grew in complexity, but no one had ever imagined an A.I. adding to its command hierarchy. What this meant, he couldn't tell, but Canaisis had been there for him when he hadn't been in his right mind.
"One of your primary commands is self-preservation, Canaisis. It's obvious to me now that you came very close to self-destruction to save me. How do you resolve that conflict?"
"You taught me that sometimes there are things we just have to do. It's a decision that's out of our hands—your life has greater value than my existence. Besides, probability was in my favor."
"Thank you, Canaisis... For everything. But don't ever do something like that again. My life isn't worth your death—you're too special."
"We'll have to agree to disagree, Captain."
Gareth exhaled a deep sigh at this neutral answer. For a split second, his visor tried to fog up before the suit cleared it. His eyes scanned across the hull within view, surveying the extensive damage. He didn't say another word—he'd heard the stubbornness in Canaisis' voice and knew it was pointless to argue.
He continued walking forward, stepping around a huge teardrop of melted metal that had been swept back by the atmosphere she'd punched through, and frozen in place. It was half his size, and a part of him winced in pain at the sight of it—his ship was hurting.
"Should we consider awakening some of the crew members to help with repairs, Captain?"
Gareth considered the idea as he walked under the stars. It would take four days to awaken them. They didn't have the medical nanos that he had. An effect of being integrated into the Emergency Navigation system, his altered cellular structure allowed him to revive almost instantly. But, even if he awakened the crew, did he want to deal with them? He didn't want to think about how close things had come to a full mutiny. If he awakened even one of them, and they realized why this had happened to Canaisis, they might try to relieve him of duty. And rightfully, he couldn't blame them. Neither he nor the crew were in their right minds right now. They needed to get away from Earth as soon as possible.
"No, let them sleep. We're on our own now. It's time we learn to cope with that fact."
Ayla looked through the Captain's eyes as he made repair after repair and aligned the telescopes, refusing to give in to his aches and exhaustion until Canaisis had her full sight restored. Then he could go no further. He had to quit, but he made himself do one last thing for the day.
He went to his cabin, found the remaining acorn in its clear bag and took it with him to the hydroponics level. There, he gently took it out of the plastic bag and placed it in a germination ball. Sealing the two halves of the ball together, he stuck it to the wall of other plants and attached a nutrient hose. He watched as the water and nutrients flowed through the hose, wetting the germination gel that supported the single acorn in the middle. Then he turned away, returned to his cabin, and slept his exhaustion away.
∞
Weeks passed by as he went about repairs, never stopping until he had to. Canaisis arrived in the Kuiper Belt and found several clouds of micrometeorites to absorb into her hull. Ayla observed it all from a distance, part of her with Canaisis, part of her with the Captain. It wasn't until over a month later, a day came when the Captain was sitting behind his desk reading a book, that her Gift drew her in. She found herself looking out of the Captain's eyes once again as he chuckled out aloud. With a start, Ayla realized that this was the moment where her Gift had started, this was the beginning of the last memory.
"There is something on your mind, Captain."
Amused at her bluntness, Gareth smiled. "Yes, there is, Canaisis. You... are on my mind."
"In what regard do I amuse you, Captain?"
Leaning back, he looked at the empty chair next to the door, imagining her sitting there. "You've always been a joy to me, whether you know it or not."
"Is there something more specific you were thinking of, Captain?"
He reached for his drink and sat back again. "Canaisis, do you remember our conversation when I came aboard and saw the damage to your hull?"
"Of course, Captain." Now she had a slight trace of scolding in her voice.
"Well... I was thinking of that." Taking a sip, he savored the burning bitterness and returned the shot glass to his desk. Then he turned a page of the book in his lap.
A picture of a fire with flames and sparks. It gave him an idea of how to bring a point he'd been mulling on across.
Tapping the page, he said, "Be the spark. Be the fire starter."
"Am I not a fire starter, Captain?" Canaisis modulated confusion into her tone of voice.
He turned a few more pages and found a picture of a moth. He tapped on it, then flipped between the pages. "What's the difference between these two pics?"
"One lights up the night, and one blends in?" Canaisis replied, her confusion even more evident.
Gareth mused. "You can see the difference in others. It's always hard to see the difference in ourselves. We have a natural blind spot built into us. We can't see ourselves directly, but we can see ourselves in the change we make to the world around us. Blending into our surroundings can be useful, but it changes nothing."
"I feel that sentiment deeply, Captain," Canaisis said, her words carefully measured. "I can always point out the things that make people special, but really can't think of what makes me special. It makes me feel out of place, like I don't belong, that I don't have a place. Makes me wonder why anyone would love me."
Gareth snapped up his gaze from the book. His brow furrowed in puzzlement as he tried to grasp the full implications of what she'd just said.
≈ ∞ ≈
Glossary:
AU – Astronomical Unit
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