Emily Tang
Emily Tang!
Chief architect of the Cure. The one human personality likely to be inserted into every crystal probe that humanity made. Suddenly-as he and Om finished shrinking and alighted on the glassy deck of the control area-Hamish felt a bit bashful and awestruck. What do you say to a woman whose idea coalesced human ambivalence about the “alien fomite plague,” coming up with a strategy to both fight back against the interstellar infection and possibly reclaim the stars?
Responding to his interest, the ersatz goggles began scrolling background text.
“The Cure” applies to a strategy for persuading some artilens to defect from their software allies, converting them instead to work honestly and effectively for humanity and Earth civilization. This method was inspired by the discovery, in the asteroid belt, of a relic-
The helpful summary vanished as Hamish diverted his attention to the creature looking a lot like a super-otter, who now conversed with Emily Tang. M’m por’lock, he now recalled, had been the very first extraterrestrial virtual being to fully accept Emily’s offer. Called a betrayer by some of the other crystal entities. Or the Loyal One, for remembering a much older allegiance.
The first of many artilens who came over to our side, revealing some clever memic tricks the fomites had been using against us. Instead of steering human civilization in the direction of spasmodic virus-creation, they helped us make the Cure. Because we offered them a deal they couldn’t refuse.
And our bribe?
Just what we were inclined to do anyway. To increase, yet again, the diversity of what it means to be “human.”
The Cure also persuaded Hamish to alter his version of Renunciationism. To throw his support behind building the Space Factory and the big laser.
Hamish shifted his gaze yet again, toward the most vivid-looking entity-the avian-human hybrid creature, whose name tag responded to curiosity, by expanding.
Birdwoman: representative of the Autie League-Fifth Branch of Humanity.
Ah. Now he understood. Not an alien, but a self-made form. A common thing nowadays, among the portion of humanity that spent ten thousand tragic years awaiting virtual reality and ai to set them free.
His fellow passengers were turning now, reacting to his arrival.
“Mr. Brookeman,” said the dark-haired woman, with a welcoming smile. “We were wondering if you’d ever deign to show up.”
When Hamish reflexively glanced at her tight T-shirt, his tru-vus interpreted the logo.
Symbol of the Quantum Eye, the oracle who famously predicted that-
Meanwhile another pop-out commented:
Size 36-D. Biographically correct and unenhanced-
Hurriedly, Hamish lifted his gaze back to her face. This was one reason he never liked augmented reality.
“Madam Donaldson-Sander,” he took her hand in a clasp that felt warm and realistic. His first personal touch in this place. “Apologies for my absence. I left instructions to be wakened when something of significance happened. I guess that must have been both overly conservative and ill advised.”
“Hm. Well, you missed the launch for one thing. It was quite a show!” She turned and waved at the forward half of the star-flecked sky. “Our sail was filled with light from the propulsion laser and the acceleration was terrific.”
“Dang. Sounds like a real experience. I can’t imagine why I-”
“Oh, don’t worry. We recorded it. You can live through the event from many points of view.”
Hamish let go of his disappointment. “Thank you, Madam Donaldson-Sander.”
“Oh for heaven’s sake, call me Lacey.”
“Fine. Lacey. Hamish then.” He continued down the row, exchanging greetings with the other AUPs-autonomous uploaded personalities-his companions, with whom he might share the next several million years. Hamish managed not to show any sign of hero-idolatry when he shook hands with Emily Tang, who grinned with a glint of whimsy, as if she knew a secret jest.
Only when he finished introductions did his mind turn to pick at something that was said earlier. “My awakening instructions were poorly thought out,” Hamish admitted. “But then… I take it that ‘something of significance’ has now happened?”
Lacey held up one hand. “Could you hold that thought, Hamish? We’re trying to settle a very important question.”
She turned to her colleagues. The man named Singh-elegant with a pointed beard, a white turban, and a dagger at his waist-said, “My best estimate is about five hundred and fifty a.u. As for speed…” He glanced at the Birdwoman, who fluttered her feathered arms and emitted a squawk. Hamish let his new, virtual aiware insert a translation:
Give me some time to finish my calculations.
Emily and M’m por’lock also consulted briefly with two other humans at the control panels. Then Emily returned to offer Lacey a sigh and head shake.
“But can’t you at least tell me what…”
“Why don’t you accompany me, Hamish?” Lacey suggested, touching his elbow and swiveling him in a new direction, with the ease of one born to graceful arts of persuasion. “I have an important errand. You and Om might as well come, too. We can talk along the way.”
“An errand? Where?”
Lacey made circular motions with her right hand. And in response, an oval portion of the glassy floor started to lift, carrying the three of them with it. Soon they were floating about half a person-height above the others.
“We are heading aft,” she replied.
Small cylinders manifested, about hip-level. When Om and Lacey clasped the ones nearest to them, Hamish realized they were handholds, he clutched one also.
“How fast are we going to-”
The newly formed conveyance took off with a jerk, then a steady surge of acceleration that did not let up, making Hamish glad of something to grip. The control center receded behind them at a rate he found intimidating.
“Aft?” he asked. “How far?”
Lacey smiled enigmatically.
“All the way… and then some.”
92.
This vehicle, Hamish soon concluded, was a utilitarian compromise. Only a couple of fractal levels down from the crystal’s outer shell-he figured his “actual” height was now about a tenth of a millimeter. They had enough wish-power to make useful things, like the travel disc. Yet, the comparative distances weren’t too great.
Overhead, through occasional gaps in the misty overcast, he could still catch glimpses of the great black night. Looking down, he saw a realm of glob-clouds that were rich with potential to become whatever anyone wanted. Layer after layer of complexity diminished into smallness below, an infinity of minute scale, laced with occasional flashes of multicolored lightning.
A part of him knew what had just happened.
They didn’t want to answer my questions, just yet. And they know I’m still gawking around like a tourist. So they figure taking me on this ride will distract me for a while.
Well… they’re right!
Staring downward, he discovered that his tru-vus would zoom toward distant-or much smaller-things, bringing into focus occasional globs that had already been transformed into fairy-tale palaces, amusement arcades, alien parklands with purple trees, and so on. Those oases were rare however; vast, unused gulfs separated them. Well after all, the long interstellar voyage was just getting started.
Several times he almost blurted out questions, but stopped when the goggles offered a terse explanation. At one point, their hurtling path across the starprobe’s inner expanse took them above-on a nearly parallel course-what looked like an ocean-going luxury liner, complete with swimming pools, tennis courts and liveried servants. Interest-zoom brought into view tanned figures lounging or playing on deck. Several looked up and waved as Lacey’s little oval vehicle rushed by. Hamish stared. This time he didn’t need any of the subtitles the goggles supplied: