I checked the notes from the triage therapist who had first spoken to her at Grainger station, months before:
G: Can I ask how you survived?
K: I was assigned to crew a modified orbital freight transport with two others. The transport was equipped with antimatter explosive devices. Our mission was to simulate the appearance of a wreck near the path of an enemy asteroid ship on approach to Earth orbit, then to burn engines at point of closest approach, ram the asteroid and detonate the antimatter devices. However, the enemy discovered us before we could ram them and destroyed our ship with pulsed EMDIS weapons…
She certainly knew how to stick to her story. I thought that perhaps I should get her onto a subject where she could not simply recite a prepared statement.
“Thank you. That was informative. Let’s get back to the present day… how are you feeling?”
“I am within normal tolerances.”
“I mean, with regards to your neurological condition.”
“I am unaffected.”
“Well, we’re still very concerned. There’ll be regular neuroscans to track your progress. We’d be grateful if you can alert us if you experience any symptoms.”
“I will give reasonable cooperation.”
“Is there anything we can do for you?”
“Not at this time.”
“You do understand that if your brain continues to degrade, you probably won’t survive?”
“I understand this is possible.”
“Well, the issue seems to be with your implants, and we just don’t know how to fix the problem. But what we could do is clone a new body without the implants and transfer your consciousness into that. We wouldn’t normally risk that kind of procedure without knowing more about your species, but if it comes to a choice between life and death, we’re willing to risk it if you are.”
“I do not require assistance.”
“Is there nothing we can do?”
“I do not require assistance.”
“Not even to save your life?”
“I do not require assistance.”
“Okay. So, Katie… why do you want to die?”
It took her a moment to process that; an almost human moment. But only almost.
“My life or death is irrelevant.”
“You don’t care one way or the other?”
“It is unimportant.”
“Even to you?”
“Yes.”
“I see. Well, these techniques might turn out to be the only legal way to save your life, so I hope you’ll reconsider if you do experience any symptoms.”
She thought about that for another long second. “Is there an illegal method?”
“Yes. There is.” She certainly paid attention when she wanted to.
“Please specify.”
“Well, we would have to transfer your consciousness into an artificial mind rather than a biological one.”
“Why is this illegal?”
“Artificial Intelligence is a very sensitive subject here. There are a lot of IU member species that refuse to accept it, usually because they were nearly wiped out by it on their own worlds. So when the IU was founded and Hub became the headquarters, those species refused to take part unless AI technology was restricted. One of the restrictions prevents us from creating any new AI lifeforms, and if we transfer you into an artificial mind, that would effectively create an artificial intelligence. So it isn’t allowed.”
“I understand.”
“But… let’s just say for a moment that it was allowed. Would you be interested?”
“The question is pointless.”
“Well, what if we could take you to a universe where it wasn’t illegal?”
And she paused again.
“Can you do this?”
“Suppose for a moment that we could.”
Again that pause. “I would consider it.”
There. A way in. “So… you would be willing to preserve your life if you could become a machine?”
“I would be willing. Is it possible?”
“Theoretically, yes. In practice, no.”
“Then it is irrelevant.”
“So… why do you want to be a machine?”
“I have not stated such a preference.”
“But you would be happier to be in an artificial brain than a biological one?”
“I would feel no happier in either instance.”
“You said, just now, that you would be willing to preserve your life in a machine form when you would not be willing to do so in a biological one. Doesn’t that mean you’d prefer to be a machine?”
A pause again. Was she trying to figure out how to evade the question? The pause went on. She simply stared at me.
“Katie?”
She didn’t reply.
“Katie, are you all right?”
She didn’t even notice that I’d spoken. Not even the slightest flicker of reaction.
“Katie…?” I leaned forward, reaching for my pad to call for medical help — and then she suddenly turned to me.
“I have not given permission in either instance.”
“Was that something you had to think about?”
“I have not given permission in either instance.”
“Are you sure? You thought about that for a long time…”
“I have not given permission in either instance.”
She would not be drawn further.
5. Pew
PSYCHOMEDICAL HISTORY — SUMMARY
PU LEE’UN “PEW”
Records provided by the Soo are alarmingly light on substance, and we can only summarise the following:
• Pew was ‘rescued’ by the Soo at the age of 6. He came from an Arctic tribal society wiped out by a respiratory disease, but appeared to be immune to the infection.
• Pew was reared in a zoo used to display Pu to the Soo public, but which was also part of the breeding programme. The other Pu residents were survivors of the domesticated breeds. They initially took responsibility for Pew’s upbringing, until old age and mortality prevented their active participation.
• When Pew was 10, Gan Shan’oui, the director of the Pu exhibition at the zoo, took over his education. She encouraged him to look beyond the confines of the usual Pu position in Soo society.
• At the age of 15, Pew began to take part in the breeding programme. This resulted in no offspring, as the few remaining females were infertile or unable to carry a child to term.
• When Pew was 18, the breeding programme ended with the death of the last surviving female, leaving Pew as the only remaining member of the species. Their failure to breed is attributed by the Soo to ‘erectile dysfunction’.
Since arrival on Hub, Pew has struggled to integrate into Hub society. He enrolled in Hub University, studying mathematics with physics. Despite a very obvious talent for his subject, he became known for an inability to complete tasks and assignments within projected timescales. Having lived in something like a prison all his life, he has difficulty making choices for himself and is easily flustered when presented with too many options.
While at university, Pew entered into a relationship with another student, but his partner complained that he had great difficulty with physical intimacy. The relationship was brief, but he quickly found another, entering into a cycle that repeated over the next two years. He stated to his therapist that he wanted to be with someone, but could not be as close as any of his partners wished. He seemed unable to explain why.