No Space for Family [Chapter 4]

Grandma took some time to get used to things. The first morning, a knock came to the door of my brother’s room. That’s the one I was sharing with him in case you forgot. Terren got himself up and opened the door. Beyond the blinding light was Grandma, all dressed up like she was expecting to walk out the ship’s airlock and immediately end up in some fashion mall or theater show.

“Something up Gram? You find the bathroom okay?”

She crossed her arms. “Of course. Surprisingly logical by starship standards. And surprisingly clean considering two men use it on the regular.”

Terren rubbed his face down with his palm. “Yeah, for sure. Well, uh, good morning to you too, Gram. Let me just get dressed and… I’ll be out in a little bit. Mom or Dad should be down too…”

“I’d like to make some coffee,” Grandma interrupted. “Show me how to fold out that kitchenette of yours.”

I couldn’t help but listen in. I had barely gotten any sleep as the cot shifted and creaked any time I moved an inch, and the bedding kept trying to fall off on either side. I noisily sat myself up. “I can help you, Grandma.”

“That’s my girl,” she praised, backing away from the door. I ducked under Terren’s arm to get out.

The door closed behind me and I dashed out into the common room ahead of Grandma. “So we actually don’t cook a whole lot like we did last night. Like, we eat real food, but not cooked, cooked. The synthesizer does that for us. It can definitely make coffee too.”

Grandma leaned into her hand. “Oh dear, I hope your mother doesn’t let all her homemaking skills fade away.”

“Did you know,” I began to explain, hoping to sell her further on the device. “If you cook food in a pan, you’re wasting a lot of heat to the surrounding air? Having the synthesizer recreate ready-to-eat food is actually more efficient for us.”

Grandma shrugged and ignored me presenting the control screen to her like I was showing off the prize from a game show. “Oh, I see we have a little smarty-pants here.”

I had heard people call me that before back when I was still in a regular school. They didn’t always use it in a friendly way. I pretended like Grandma was saying it in a different way. In the corner of my eye, I saw my mom creeping down the ladder. Up there was the little loft where my mom and dad slept, just above the cockpit and common room.

“Sorry mom,” she said, adjusting the sleeves of her pajamas. “I forgot you might be solar-lagged. We can adjust the light controls in Sola’s room so your circadian rhythm can adjust.”

“As long as I can get coffee in me I don’t need that many hours of sleep.” Her eyes scanned the imaginary horizon of the ship’s interior before landing back on me, her gaze narrow and judging. “Sola was just trying to sell me on this device.”

Mom stepped up to the control panel, causing it to light up. “Yes mom, synthesizers have been around since before you gave birth to me. It can make a cup of coffee physically and chemically identical to any you can brew your own. Here, I still know how you like yours. Hot coffee, arabica dark roast, decaf— ten ounces.”

The machine spat out a heat-proof cup from storage and filled it with the shimmering, dark liquid. The air above danced with wisps of steam. My mom passed it to Grandma who held it up to her chin. She tipped it up gently and allow the liquid to pass her lips. “It’s acceptable.”

Grandma waddled back to the common room table which was still set up from last night after a drawn out game of cards. She took a seat and began nursing at her coffee.

I leaned into my mom and whispered. “Decaf means there’s no caffeine, right?”

“Mhm.”

“Then… why?”

“You’re free to find out from her,” my mom smirked a little.

I didn’t try to find out.

I think being able to do things on her own made both Grandma and the rest of us happier. I was more than happy to teach her how to connect to the space net to let her watch the news from back home. Even if we were lightyears away, somehow the things back on Chandra definitely mattered.

Three standard days after picking up Grandma Aida, we reached our first destination, Seltun. From the sky it looked like a barren planet, and our approach revealed that, yep, it was definitely barren. We cruised for a while at a low altitude until we reached our destination somewhere around the equator.

The Seltun research block was less than a city and more than a colony. The craggy, white bluffs around the base were dotted with solar arrays pointing up at the sky. The buildings themselves seemed to be mostly windowless, which made sense considering how glaringly bright the surroundings were.

My dad was in communication with the ground controllers the whole way down. Soon enough, we were being flagged down to a landing spot not far off from a tall group of buildings.

When Grandma declared that she would stay on the Ora, I wanted off even more. My dad didn’t take any convincing either. After him, I was the first of our crew to set my feet on the ground.

The dirt wasn’t dirt. It was pale white, shiny, and crystalline. The air was impossibly dry, like I had eaten a stack of emergency ration crackers. “What is this place?”

My mom stepped out after me. “As crazy as this sounds, the surface of this planet is mostly Halite. NaCl.”

“Salt?” I asked, crunching my feet up and down.

My mom nodded. “It’s had a few centuries to dry out and erode from wind, but that’s what it is. Probably had some liquid water at one point but a shift in its orbit around the sun here would have definitely changed that.”

“The planet is apparently one of the most sterile yet livable places in the known systems,” my dad added. He was focused on the pair of locals coming to greet us. “A perfect place for medical and biological research.”

“Jefferson Umburter,” declared the approaching Radiin host, a tall, red-skinned race. “And family,” he added with a bow that accentuated his height and slenderness. “I am Dayk, administrator for the medical wing of the facility. Welcome here to Seltun and these premises. We’re excited for our medical AI here and its vast collection of knowledge to be finally useful to patients at large.”

“Of course,” my dad nodded, shaking the hand of the other host. This second one was definitely an Icthort, a small race with pale blue skin. On her face was a mask that seemed to be helping with the complete absence of humidity in the air, something I was quickly becoming aware of.

“Pois,” she said, nodding at my dad and the rest of us. “I am the lead engineer on the Hows AI project. The same as Dayk here, I hope he may be of use out there. And may I say, I’d love to see the surrogate core you’ve set up here in your ship of all places. Out of pure curiosity, of course. I’m sure it’s all up to snuff, considering what we’ve heard from your other clients.”

The crazy thing about Seltun and our particular location upon it was that night was only a few hours long, and the sun didn’t really fully set. Even though there were tons to learn about and see inside the facility, I soon felt myself falling asleep on my feet, even though the sun was still shining bright.

My mom brought me back to the ship to rest while my dad finished setting up everything with the clients. When I woke back up, I could feel my throat almost completely dry. If I didn’t immediately recall our location, I would have thought I had gotten sick. No, it was simply the rear hatch opened up, allowing all the ship’s air to be sucked clean of its moisture.

I was so upset that I had missed the beginning of the transfer that I skipped breakfast and ran to the cargo hold door. Technically, it hadn’t held any cargo for a long time. Instead, it contained the array that made up the surrogate AI core.

Everything had been made custom to fit the space and protect the components that essentially kept the core and its AI alive… if you could really say an AI was alive.

First was the power source, a nuclear core whose output was filtered through several transformers to condition the power for an optimal and smooth experience for the inhabitant. Coincidentally, that power source was separate from the one that powered the rest of the ship. If we really really needed to, the cargo hold could be disconnected and ejected mid-flight and left in a safe space, like if we were expecting a dangerous situation. Don’t worry, nothing as scary as that that has ever happened.

The tall, blocky arrays of memory cells around the exterior walls were isolated physically, acoustically, and electrically to ensure no sudden jolt of power, spacial radiation or physical damage would come to them. Any sort of turbulence from entering or departing a planet’s atmosphere would be completely unfelt. If we were to encounter any unexpected electromagnetic interference, be it from a solar flare or even some space pirates, the core would remain untouched. There was even heavy plating in the walls to prevent people from seeing inside with xrays and finding out we were carrying more than just the junk an old freighter like this would normally carry.

Of course, while transferring one of our VIPs (very important processes) everything was kind of out in the open. The long operation of moving an AI’s consciousness and accumulated knowledge, even just a copy, was done over long conduits stretched back to whatever interface the client had installed. As I said, I snuck my way back to the cargo hold where the core was located. Actually, it might sound like I was doing something bad when I said I snuck. No, the door was open since it was obviously being used.

I glanced about the interior. The core in the center of the room, a hexagonal computer core with matte metal panels, was flashing with red and green LEDs. My mom was off to the side, reading from her tablet while occasionally glancing at the readout screen near the main control panel. She found a moment to glance at me.

“Good morning, sleepy head.”

I leaned around the core and stared into the searing daylight through the open rear hatch. “Is it really morning?”

My mom shrugged. “Well, not on this part of the planet. But breakfast probably sounds good, right?”

I shrugged just like her. “I guess.”

Mom nodded her head at the rear of the ship. “Well, we have about six more hours to complete the transfer, so plenty of time to fix a meal. Grandma stepped outside for a walk a little bit ago. Maybe you can see about making something to eat together.”

I pursed my lips and peeked at the hatch again. “I guess…”

Mom urged me toward her with a wiggling of her finger before whispering to me. “If she complains about how long it’s taking, tell her that a watched pot never boils.”

“Is that going to change her mind or something?”

“Something like that,” my mom smirked. “I just haven’t been brave enough to try to say it to her myself. Go off now.”

I sighed and shuffled off, taking the cargo ramp down and alongside the long noodly run of conduits. They were dark and rubbery, holding an uncountable amount of bits and bytes at any moment through their glass cores. And even at those speeds, it was going to take a lot longer for the new AI to be completely within its temporary home. And the whole process would happen again at the final destination.

I jumped up on the rubbery hump of conductors and tried my best to balance. Don’t worry, I was far from heavy enough to hurt them even slightly. Even though I was experiencing yet another different gravitational constant, my balance was still pretty good. The trick is to not look down, only straight forward along your path.

That was the direction of the compound of buildings, as well as my Brother and Grandma. Terren seemed like he was trying his best to not listen while still making eye contact.

“Grandma!” I called out, gracefully slipping off the conduit and running up to them under the shade of the building.

“We can’t keep you down, can we, Sola?” My Grandma asked almost like she was excited to see me. “You haven’t come to tell me that we’re ready to go, have you?”

I shook my head and glanced at Terren doing the same thing. “Still a few hours.”

Grandma huffed, vibrating her lips. “That may be my limit, deary. This planet is so dry. Having that damned door open all night took it out of me. I can feel every inch of my throat and sinuses calling for water. I feel like I could turn to dust at any moment.”

Terren pursed his lips and mumbled, eyes diverted away. “Then you know how that third husband of yours feels right about now.”

I heard and almost laughed. Grandma blinked and stared back at him. “Huh? Speak up. Well, tell your dad I want that ship closed back up the very moment it’s possible. I know I should have brought my little humidifier.”

I took my chance. “A watched pot never boils, Grandma.”

Her head jerked up and sideways. “Well, I never. Your mother would dare try to have you appease me with my own words? She soiled those wise words with her mockery, you know. Now there’s no way you would get to saying that now, making hot coffee with a synthesizer of all things. That’s what I need now, certainly— a hot coffee. Let’s bring it back in, Sola.”

No Space for Family [Chapter 3]

Consider space— like, outer space, for you people that live on a planet. Consider that there is more nothing than there is something. Does that make sense? Like there are stars and planets and asteroids and other little celestial bodies, but the rest of that is literally nothing. And somehow that lack of anything can be more dangerous than any physical presence. Despite all the danger, people traverse the inky darkness all the time.

My family are some of those people. Truthfully, not everyone can manage something like space. And you can’t do it alone. Spaceships need a whole crew. And a leader there to make sure their crew doesn’t fight and drive each other crazy. One day I’d like to be the captain of a ship. That, or the engineer who makes the ship do all the stuff and keeps all the people alive while they are being captained. My dad actually does both those roles. And while I’m not the captain, I can still talk about our crew complement and introduce them properly.

First, there’s my dad. My mom says he’s tall, dark, and handsome. That sounds like a phrase you would find in a storybook for adults. To me… he’s just my dad. You may have heard of him, actually, if you work in the Field of AI. Jefferson Umburter, a pioneer and entrepreneur in a unique branch of artificial intelligence. At least, that’s how he describes himself.

Here’s that deal with his job if you’re interested. Every colony bigger than a few thousand people wants their own artificial intelligence core to make its systems easier to manage and expand upon. My dad helps colonies like those get AIs. And colony founding is big business. At least according to my mom, Amelia Ankern. Tell me you’ve heard of her?

My mom is pale-skinned and straight-haired, a strawberry blond, which sounds more delicious than it actually is. I think I would have freckles like her if my skin wasn’t dark like my dad’s. More importantly, my mom helps with the whole AI business my dad works all the time on. She’s what they call a ‘colonization consultant,’ a person who tells other people what to do and then they do it and pay her lots of money. If not a captain or an engineer, that’s what I would like to be when I’m older.

We can’t forget my brother who is still nicely sharing a corner of his room with me. Now some people say I’m like a little version of my dad, but that title actually goes to Terren. He’s got the look, even down to his shiny, shaved head to match my dad. He follows my dad around everywhere and tries to act like he’s also the captain whenever my dad isn’t directly at his post. I’m the only one he can boss around, though.

Grandma Aida is my mom’s mom and… well, before I get to her, let’s talk more about the AI business. The problem with artificial intelligence cores is that they require massive installations for processing and storage. And while deep space data transmission has come a long way, at least in our quadrant, it would still take a lifetime to send a copy of an entire AI’s neural network lightyears away to a new core. And training a new AI costs a lot of money and time. I think I’m getting all this; I’m just repeating stuff my dad has said in the past.

The solution? For my dad, it was to take a retired freighter craft and fit it with a surrogate core that could host the copy of an AI while it was transported to a new permanent installation in whatever colony ordered it. My mom would then see to it that the AI was tuned to its new home and able to adapt to its new tasks. Since the creation of the enterprise, we had done five successful transplants and earned a lot of money for the investors, so says my dad.

There is one strange thing about this process though. That is the artificial intelligences themselves. First off, they are smart like a person, a person who has read many books and gone to many classes and talked to many people and solved many problems. On top of that, they were good at paying attention. I guess they were told that they were copies of an original and were going to end up somewhere else to take on a new job. None of them had a problem, surprisingly. I honestly applaud them— after all, I remember when I had to be pulled out of regular school to join my dad on this job of his. Saying goodbye to your friends sucks!

Anyways, you should know that AI cores don’t simply get turned off. It’s kind of like a person. Your brain still works when you go to sleep, you know. That’s how you get dreams. And nightmares. And why sometimes you wake up all of a sudden and have to pee.

During the extent of our journeys, the AIs in our careful possession live with us inside the ship and communicate with us. I guess since they can think real fast, having nothing to do or say would be extra boring.

I still remember the first AI we had with us. His official name was DWRF-3 MK2, but I nicknamed him Rocky. His station was going to be on a planet rich with minerals, where he would analyze the junk brought in from various mines about the surface. From there he was supposed to guide the human operators to new potential dig spots and mineral veins.

I learned about lots of minerals from Rocky. He showed me how to look through a spectroscope for radioactive minerals and then how to stay away from them. He told me about a planet where diamonds rained from the sky just naturally. I asked if it would be possible to live there, and he said only if I wanted to get hit in the head by one of the hardest known minerals in this corner of the galaxy. That response taught me that being intelligent doesn’t always mean that your jokes will be good.

Grandma Aida also had bad jokes. I guess I can’t not talk about her anymore. First off, Grandma Aida was once a living, breathing old lady. Well, she wouldn’t have said she was old. I never actually heard how old she was. She was my mom’s mom, and my mom wasn’t that old to begin with. If you do the math between my age and my mom’s age, you could map a trend to determine what grandma’s approximate age was.

I revealed this set of experimental calculations to my dad first as a precaution, and while proud, he reminded me that sometimes keeping friends is better than being right. My dad must have been right a lot around Grandma because they didn’t seem very much like friends.

I had met my Grandma before she came to join us on our current mission, but it was only for a few days at a time. I guess she didn’t like to do much space travel, but she had a reason to join us this time; her husband had passed away. Don’t worry, that man wasn’t my grandpa or even my mom’s dad. He was actually Grandma’s third husband, and according to her, her last. Well, that man had grown up in a colony on a planet that started out no more than rock. His final wish was for his ashes to be returned to that very planet to fertilize the ground there or something. Only then would all his money and stuff be allowed to go to Grandma.

You already know the story of how I was forced out of my room to let Grandma stay there. There was still a lot of stuff that happened between then and now. We started off by picking her up on Chandra, a moon in the Sirius system. Actually, we visited the moon properly for a few days. My mom says it’s good for my growth to get some actual gravity in me rather than just the artificial stuff the ship generates.

This may sound weird, but maybe you’ve experienced this. Like, I know Sirius isn’t terribly far from where humans grew up. But Chandra has a lot of humans. Not that it’s weird seeing people that look like yourself, but the planet where I grew up had a lot more people that weren’t humans. I had many friends back in school who looked pretty different, but that’s also why I liked them.

I didn’t have much time to think about all the differences because we lifted off with Grandma a few days later, her husband’s ashes included. “I feel so heavy. Why do I feel like everything is going to my ankles?” She asked immediately as we left Chandra’s atmosphere.

Terren, who had been busying himself with stowing her luggage out of the way, took the time to answer. “The artificial gravity is a little bit stronger than you may be used to, Gram.”

“I don’t like it.”

My mom retreated to the common room after helping my dad in the cockpit clear the planet’s pull. “Sola, why don’t you expand out the kitchenette? Show Grandma. We’ll do a little bit of proper cooking tonight.”

I nodded and did as I was told. The common room’s facilities could be folded in and out of the walls and floor as needed to save space. While the kitchen was coming to, my mom extruded the dining setup out of the floor and sat my grandma down.

“Have a seat, mom,” she directed, hands on Grandma’s shoulders. “You’ll get used to the gravity. We have it set to the same constant as back at our home. There’s evidence that irregular gravitational forces have greater effects on growing bodies. Sola’s, for example.”

Grandma huffed but accepted her seat. “My body will be growing too, but downwards. My bones aren’t what they used to be, I’ll have you know.”

I saw my mom’s eyes roll in a way that I would have gotten in trouble for if I had done it to her. “Well, we got that medication from your doctor just for that purpose. We told him exactly what sort of conditions you’d be experiencing. Do you remember which bag of yours you put it in?”

Grandma stomped her foot. “Of course I remember! I’m not senile! And you saw me pack those bags! I certainly didn’t forget a single thing.”

“Right, right,” my mom nodded. “It was in with your toiletries, right?”

“Yes. The little silver bag.”

My mom glanced around. Terren had just come back out from the back hall where our two rooms were located. “Terren?”

“Huh?”

“Grab Grandma’s silver bag from your sister’s room, okay?”

Terren spun right on his foot and went back the way he came, his shoulders slumped and steps a little bit more forceful than before.

Grandma finally seemed to relax. Or maybe she was just worn out. Either way, she still had the energy to talk, though. “How many days was it before we get to Greenmire, again?”

My dad popped out of the cockpit as the autopilot kicked in. “In a straight shot, six standard days. But we’ve told you that our job is still the priority. At the very least, it’s on the way.”

Grandma clicked her tongue and nodded. “Right, you needed to get the ship wired with one of those talk-boxes.”

“It’s an AI grandma,” I spoke up, carefully pronouncing the words. “Arit…ficial intelligence. And they might get mad if you badmouth them.”

“Oh, they wouldn’t be the only one,” she responded, hands crossed over her chest.

“I think you’ll like this one Aida,” my dad said smugly, leaning in the doorway of the cockpit.

“Will I?”

My dad stood up straight and shrugged, glancing back once to check on the autopilot. “I mean, I remember when you were a little… disappointed Amelia married me and not someone more important like you were hoping for.”

“Was I?” Grandma sighed wistfully.

“Perhaps? Maybe it is my memory that’s failing,” my dad said. “Anyways, this AI is custom-built for the medical industry. A super doctor if you will.”

“As long as it doesn’t tell me I need to trade out my real bacon for the synthetic stuff, I’m sure we’ll be the best of friends. Speaking of which, when’s dinner?”

My mom had suddenly appeared behind me, guiding me with a nudge out of the kitchen area. “We’ll get cooking right now.”