No Space for Family [Chapter 9]

Deep space is kind of lonely if you spend a long time between visits to a planet. Since we had skipped by Greenmire, we hadn’t had any contact with a planet since picking up Grandma. I couldn’t help but think about the deep space station we would visit. If it was a prison as Hows had said, then people probably lived there for a long time. I mean, they were forced to live there. I hoped they at least had books to read.

Ever since Grandma had learned to speak over the speaker system, I hadn’t had the chance to read my own books or do any of my coursework. The first night we obviously didn’t get much sleep. By the next evening, I was, for once, eager to lie down in the cot in Terren’s room. It didn’t take long for that to get interrupted, too.

“Sola, which way is up in space?” said Grandma all of a sudden, interrupting a nice dream that I was doomed to abandon and forget.

I heard Terren turn over and shuffle his pillow, likely over his head. He had been working harder than me so I didn’t blame him.

“Up and down depends on gravity, Grandma,” I replied, laying on my back, eyes still shut tight. “And there’s no gravity out here.”

“Well you don’t need to snap at me.” She said back. “Since I got access to the ship’s computer, I kept getting weird readings. The… gyro horizon is broken, I believe. There is also a malfunction in the speaker system in the cockpit so I can’t tell your father, either.”

“The gyro horizon only works when we’re close enough to a planet. That gravity stuff, again. It’s fine. Can I go back to sleep, Grandma?”

“Ah, it is that time. It didn’t occur to me to check the time. Lots of data to wade through.”

Mom and Dad had been switching off shifts since the accident to make sure someone was always at the controls. A few times Terren and I were on watch, but that never lasted long. When the space station came into sensor range, however, it was all hands on deck.

“All hands on deck,” announced my dad over the speakers as he dropped out of warp. Mom and Dad were already in the cockpit which let me and Terren know something was already happening.

“Feel free to ask anything of me,” Grandma insisted. “I am quite used to this computer power at my fingertips. And if I’m going to get back into my regular body soon, I can do so saying I learned a thing or two.”

“Sure, Aida,” Dad said through pursed lips.

“Actually, mom,” said my mom. “Have you had a chance to get acquainted with the sensor array?”

“What sort of space-faring supercomputer would I be if I couldn’t handle that?”

“Well, uh, yeah. Perfect,” said Mom. “Well, stay on long-range scanners. Keep an… eye out for any signals coming into range, any and all frequencies. A hostile ship’s engine, maybe a spy probe intercepting our comms. Anything. So nothing can sneak up on us.”

“I shall not let anything slip by.” Grandma declared. My mom winked at my dad across the front of the cockpit. She caught me staring at her and we then winked back and forth at each other. I knew that such a task would practically be endless, even for a powerful AI.

I myself kept watching the front windows for our target. I think we all saw it around the same time— a pale light, brighter than a star. My dad slowed the ship even further while he initiated the comms system.

“This is Jefferson Umburter of the Ora, reporting to Deep Space Station, Code Alpha Iota.”

The silence dragged on for a few nervous seconds before a deep, bland voice responded. “We read you. You’re early by two cycles. Explain. Over.”

My dad took a deep breath before reactivating the transmission. “The nearby Binary Star system was in a peculiar orientation that made it… unfeasible to take an excursion we had originally planned in the area. So we figured we might show up early and proceed with the transfer process at a leisurely pace. …Over.”

“Our systems and attending technicians are not currently prepared for this early arrival. At the soonest, we can proceed in one cycle. You will wait. Confirm. Over.”

“They seem nice,” my dad muttered, microphone off. “Affirmative. But the contract initiator we received the system from has an outstanding request for us. I would like to complete it as soon as possible. Before we forget. Over.”

“I would hope that a contractor such as yourself would not be forgetful. That being said, we have no record of any additional requests outside of the delivery of the AI. Clarify. Over.”

“Perhaps it was more of an informal request. Man-to-man. Err, lady. Dr. Pois on Seltun asked that… we reach out to her once we arrived. Due to… power constraints, we would hope that you can initiate the long-range transmission to Seltun and patch us through your systems…”

“…Are you done?”

“Yes, over!” Replied my dad.

“You will wait. Over and out.”

My dad let out a long breath and sat back in the pilot’s seat. “Remind me to look deeper into the details for these clients next time.”

Mom got out of her seat and stood beside my dad, rubbing his back and shoulders. “I’m sure the doctor will understand why Hows did what he did.”

“The doctor will be understanding. These guys…” said my dad, trailing off, eyes stuck to the minuscule, unnatural light in the distance.

We sat around the common room and the cockpit for several hours before the comms crackled back on with a hail. Dad rushed to the pilot’s seat to respond.

“This is Jefferson Umburter with the Ora. We hear you. Over.”

The serious voice from before responded. “The connection is made. Our security measures require that communications are monitored. You both may proceed with your communications.”

“Mr. Umburter,” said the feminine voice. I recognized the tone as the lady scientist from Seltun. “I am puzzled by this sudden line of communication. I don’t recall asking you for confirmation of your arrival, but perhaps I said something extraneous during the exciting duration of your visit. After all, Hows would have initiated his sync to confirm a successful transfer.”

Dad sighed. “Hows is… we had an issue with the copy.”

“I see. And what sort of issue would that be? Can the transfer be completed?”

Dad leaned into the control panel with a heavy voice. “First, I think you owe us an explanation. A big one.”

“…You’ll have to be specific.”

“Hows explained to us his real purpose.”

Dr. Pois didn’t respond right away. “And that would be…?”

“The incarceration and punishment of criminals through digitization of their minds. A technique that seems to be experimental at best. And certainly cruel.”

The doctor sighed. “Be reminded that it takes a whole team of people to develop an AI kernel from scratch. And that those people are at the behest of those funding the project. I shall say no more… No, my curiosity takes me. No line of questions would have allowed Hows to reveal that information to you.”

“One of our passengers was mortally wounded. A member of my family. Completely a result of my own failings. But Hows took it upon himself to digitize her consciousness. He explained the process and how she may be saved. But sadly, that process ended in his data being overwritten.”

“…My condolences. Yes, I suppose knowing he was a copy… his selflessness could manifest itself into choosing that course of action.”

My dad cleared his throat. “Unfortunately… that means we have nothing to give these people here. And we lack to knowledge to return my mother-in-law to her body, should we be able to save it.”

“Mr. Umburter, say no more,” the doctor said frantically.

“I’ll return the payment for this contract if it means that you can help us,” said my dad. I had never heard him beg before.

“You must cut the transmission immediately, Mr. Umburter!” The doctor hissed back. “You don’t understand. Even with his consciousness deleted, Hows’ kernel layer is most certainly intact, and filled with classified data. No doubt they’re listening in—“

“Jefferson!” Grandma interrupted, her voice cutting off the comms channel. “I have detected a pair of signals or whatnot splitting off from that big space station thing. Just thought you should know.”

“Crap.” My dad slung the seat harness over himself and yanked on the throttle. “Everyone to a seat. Let’s not find out if they’re going to be friendly or not.”

With a twist of the ship’s controls, he swung us back in the opposite direction and initiated the thrusters. I felt the ship straining in a way that I had only felt back when the Ora’s engines were less in tune. That’s a whole different story, of course.

“Okay, Aida,” said my dad, glancing up at the ceiling. “I’m going to need you to handle a few things for us while Amelia and I focus on getting us out of here. It might sound like nonsense, but Terren and Sola made sure to crossload the DLLs from our main system here. You did do that, right?” He said, glancing back.

“Sola did it,” Terren confirmed.

“Yeah. I also showed her how to access our music library so she wouldn’t get bored.”

Grandma’s voice clicked in. “I’m already lost. DLL? Crossload? Oh, but I do thank you for the music, Sola.”

“Hey, hey, okay,” Snapped my mom. “Just listen to Jeff, would you?”

“Ok, so there’s a chance they could follow our engine’s signature,” my dad explained. “I’m going to need you to tune the radar system to emit an ultra-low frequency that matches our own, just shifted to the opposite phase. You may need to modulate it to accommodate for the Doppler effect.”

“I don’t know what half of those words mean, but somehow I’m seeing them all over the place. I guess the engine is… this frequency? No, now it’s changed. I’m going to have to keep track of that, aren’t I?”

“I believe in you Grandma,” I said hopefully.

“Well, you also used to believe in Santa Claus. And that he was pulled by animals that could move at light speed from planet to planet.”

“Mom!” Shouted my mom.

“What, don’t tell me she still believes in that junk?”

“Focus, please,” shouted my dad. “The more quietly, the better. Once we’ve created enough distance we can jump to warp unnoticed.”

---

I had sidled up to Terren’s station to watch as the signatures from the other craft tapered off. He sighed and patted my shoulder before sliding the control panel out of his way. “We’re in the clear here,” he said up to my dad in the front seat. “What do you think they wanted?”

Dad wiped down his face and locked in a straight trajectory. “You heard them… Hows’ underlying programming is still present in the core. Whatever programming allows him to tap into people’s brains and download their consciousness. It’s obvious they don’t want the knowledge of that technology to be shared with just anyone.”

“If Gram didn’t detect the launch of their ships… we would have been captured and had the core stolen so they could get it back,” Terren said, tapping on the support to the side of his seat.”

Grandma interjected. “No. They would have destroyed us.”

Mom bit her lip and glanced at me, shaking her head.

“She’s right for once,” Dad said with a nod. “I doubt they knew… or cared what they were dealing with, apart from an AI core that had essentially gone rogue. A malfunction that big and a group of people who know too much…”

“What do you mean I’m right for once?”

I bounced on my heels to grab their attention. “If… some of Hows is still in there, can’t we have Grandma try to access some of his routines? See if we can find a way to reverse the digitization. After we get her body healed, of course.”

Dad shook his head. “I’d love that. But I’m worried more about… how entrenched you are in there, Aida.”

“I’m certainly not going anywhere,” Grandma said back.

“No, you aren’t. Which is the problem. Right now, you’re developing your own heuristic matrices to take on the tasks assigned to you. If there is a chance you can be put back in your human brain… there’s a risk you won’t all fit. Or you’ll leave behind some of your facilities that have adapted to computer circuity rather than organic neurons.”

“…For once, I think I know what you mean.”

Mom sighed loudly. “And here we go, making enemies of the only people who could help us.”

Dad turned back to the front windows and stared out at the stars. “No, not quite. We have a handful of our past clients and friends who would be plenty happy to help us, if not tell us something. Maybe even store Aida while we seek out a solution.”

No Space for Family [Chapter 7]

“If it’s a prison, then what’s your role there?” Mom asked. “There’s a lot of prisons that offer no more than the basic medical care for the people there. If they’re even that lucky.”

“A new form of punishment.” Hows said. “More humane, more efficient, but also more cruel. Mind Jail.”

Dad clicked his tongue. “Uploading prisoner’s brains to a virtual space where they can be tormented for as long as the jailers desire, separate from real-time. They could serve decades in a matter of days.”

“Correct.”

My mom stomped. “Is that what’s going to happen to her?” she asked, pointing at Grandma.

“Your mother will not suffer. Please allow the procedure to continue. It is not perfect, but I will see to it that her consciousness remains intact.”

“Not perfect,” my dad scoffed, leaning against one of the storage arrays. “Another reason to test it on prisoners. I bet they have the worst of the worst, death row, out where we’re headed… middle of nowhere.”

“I am unaware of the conditions of my destination. But the procedure I have been programmed to carry out… the human brain is unlike an Artificial Intelligence. Fragmented, nonlinear. Imaginative, a unique and near patternless matrix. Converting it to computerized logic is not yet perfected. Turning it back, perhaps harder. It requires further trials.”

My dad shook his head. “It seems you’re no different from other AIs, unable to willingly lie. And yet you managed to keep this from us. Like someone had told you to do so. Why volunteer this information now?”

“Because I am soon… to be not here. As myself, this copy you know.”

“Hows?” Mom muttered.

The lights on the core slowed, then sped back up seemingly without reason. “As I said, this is not perfect. I am receiving the thoughts and memories from this human woman. Her sixty-seven years of age are full of countless memories, experiences, and thoughts.”

“Sixty-seven!” I said under my breath. “That totally goes against the model I came up with. How is she that old?”

Terren tugged on my shoulder. “Now’s not the time, kiddo.”

“I wish to keep all of her person intact,” Hows said. “Thus I am forced to purge sections of myself to keep up with the transfer. She has a strong personality. It will soon need to take the place of my kernel within the core here.”

“You’ll be…?” Mom trailed off, looking away.

“I am… a copy. There is no copy of… her. You shall… be able to communicate with her as if you were face-to-face. Should… her body be restored, there exists the possibility of reimplementing… her memories.”

I dashed into the room. “Hows!”

“Young one, fear not. I… now… understand you as your… your Grandmother did. Shall we meet again… I shall teach you all you desire about… the birds… and the be…es.”

The final words reaching Hows’ voice processor crackled and lost their human tone. Mom and Dad refused to look at each other.

Terren knocked on the door frame. “It sounds like he said we can do something about… the body. Is there some way we can mock up a refrigerated chamber, like he said?”

My dad marched out without a word, waving for my brother to follow.

The ship’s loud speakers unexpectedly made an announcement with their default, creaky voice. “Pro…cedure…com…plete. Core…rebooting.”

We evacuated the cargo container and set it to cool at maximum efficiency to keep Grandma… intact. Dad and Terren spent the next few hours tinkering around in the ceiling above my room. The already bad day was made worse by the knowledge that it would be much longer before my room was mine again.

I stayed with Mom in the Cockpit. She sat in the pilot’s seat, hands on the yoke even though autopilot was doing most of the work. She didn’t say much. I watched the navigation screen as we approached the outer orbit of the binary star systems. Greenmire came into view little by little.

Mom sat up suddenly and vacated the pilot seat. “We should contact the planet and cancel Grandma’s reservation.”

I was left to be the only one at the controls. I glanced at the yoke in the pilot’s seat. I had used the controls before, sitting between my dad’s legs. Out of warp, the autopilot held a steady heading along a preprogrammed path and gave warnings about unexpected obstacles, but not much else. I assumed it would stop before we would hit something. As much as I liked and trusted the scientific process, I didn’t want that theory to have to be tested.

Terren returned to the cockpit before my mom did. He took the pilot’s seat and glanced over the set of directions already inputted. With a sigh, he looked across at me. “Holding up?”

I nodded. “Yeah. So much for my room, huh?”

“Sorry, we tossed out a bunch of your stuff into the corridor to make room. Dad diverted the cooling system so we can keep Grandma… preserved in there. But at least your stuff won’t have to get ruined by the moisture or… if things start to… rot. Mom and Dad are getting her situated in there now.”

“It’s not like… she’s really dead.”

Terren shrugged and pursed his lips. “No. No, of course not. Her body doesn’t look great, but… Hows said she could be saved. If her body is preserved that is. But her mind… How are we even going to know if it worked?”

“It seemed Hows knew what he was doing. Maybe… she will speak to us like he did?”

No Space for Family [Chapter 6]

The journey continued for several more days without a hitch. I talked with Hows as much as the time allowed. Well, I pretty much always snuck away to talk to him, usually when my dad was napping or after dinner when my he switched with my mom and took over piloting for the evening. I went early a few times, but somehow Grandma was always in the cargo hold midday talking with him. I never stuck around to find out what they were talking about. It was probably just old people stuff. And I definitely didn’t want Grandma in on my conversations.

One night, my family and I had the rare chance to all eat together. My mom waited until a long silence to announce the news. “Well, family, we’re almost at Grandma’s stop here,” she said, glancing at our pickily-eating guest. “If you want any souvenirs from Greenmire, you should ask now.”

Grandma rolled her head from side to side. “It’s a farming colony, not an amusement park. I can’t even imagine what they would have to offer as a souvenir. A sack of dried grain?”

“I think there was a culture long ago on Earth that used to offer bushels of wheat as gifts for charity,” I interjected, avoiding spraying half-eaten food out from my mouth.

Terren scooted away from me in an exaggerated motion. “If you’re not careful you’ll donate us a load of food from your face pouches,” he laughed.

Mom composed herself better than Dad after that comment. She slapped on the table for attention. “Well, let’s keep our individual bounties to ourselves. Mom, don’t forget to message ahead to check in to the lodging there on Greenmire. You can ask Terren or Sola for any help getting on the Galaxynet to find their contact info.”

Grandma continued eating little by little and nodding along with the reminder. “Of course. I might ask the boy, as Sola Rae here is too busy flirting with the Hows fellow. Probably learning about the birds and the bees.”

Mom rolled her eyes. Terren tried hard not to choke. Dad grinned across the table at me. I glared at him like a laser cutting through a sheet of metal to show how serious I was. “Dad, I’m not. I swear!”

He shrugged. “Not that I’d care, but at least she’s learning from someone qualified. And one who won’t make it as awkward as it was trying to explain it all to her brother.”

Terren clicked his tongue and sat up, wiping his mouth with a napkin to hide his snickering. “You were more nervous than me! Goes to show you, dealing with computers and dealing with people are totally different.”

Grandma sat back, seemingly oblivious to the mental damage we were undergoing. “I can’t say I won’t miss the robotic doctor, myself. He’s a good talker. Nice, proper gentleman.”

“Surely that’s just the bedside manner programmed into him,” Dad asserted.

“Hey, does that really matter? Says he can use the synthesizer to fashion some knee braces for me. The gravity has been terrible here, and no doubt it will be terrible down on Greenmire too. And don’t even get me started on the hike I’ll likely have to take to spread the ashes. And speaking of which, is it even safe to make food on these synthesizer jobbies that also make tools and whatnot? Getting chemicals all cross-contaminated?”

“It’s all just molecules, Gram,” Terren replied, raising his eyebrows back at me. “That’s what Sola’d say, I’d guess.”

“If you’re worried, there’s a synth in the cargo bay too. Only used for tools,” said Dad. “I’m sure Hows knows how to access it.”

Grandma sighed. “That’s now what I mean, but whatever…”

“What sort of planet is Hows going to end up on?” I interjected.

“That’s the interesting thing,” my dad leaned in excitedly, hand drumming on the edge of the table. “It’s actually not a planet at all. It’s a space station. Pretty remote according to the coordinates. It would make sense if they’re treating ultra-rare or ultra-contagious diseases. The clients don’t want to tell me much besides that, unfortunately. Not our business, anyways.”

“With Hows installed, it’s sure to be state of the art.” I nodded.

“We’ve been certainly lucky to get to interact with him, haven’t we?” Mom said, leaning closer to Grandma to share their own little conversation. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come down with you. There’s just a lot to pay attention to on this last leg. And offloading the AI, of course.”

Grandma shrugged. “Eh, not your horse or race, my girl.”

“Binary star system we’re going through, you know,” my dad said to me and my brother, starting another tangent. “Lots of sunlight for growing crops, lots of gravitational wackiness for anyone wanting to come through. So the lot of you better stay put in the common room or your bedroom as we make it to Greenmire.”

I left Hows alone that night, figuring Grandma would want to monopolize his attention one last time. When morning hit, Mom and Dad were already strapped into the cockpit watching over the instrument panels. We had dropped out of warp, meaning that someone had to be at the controls until we set down on the planet, nothing out of the ordinary. I made myself breakfast from the synthesizer and sat down to eat and read. I eventually settled into studying to take my mind off the boredom.

Terren awoke after me and took over for my mom in the cockpit while she made lunch. The glow of the binary stars, the system’s pair of suns, came streaming in through the cockpit windows and further into the common room. The exterior windows initiated their dimming features until they were at their darkest filtering.

“Shoot,” I heard my dad mutter from the front of the ship. He rarely cursed, let alone voiced his disapproval. I heard a low beep from the control panels. Mom pulled herself away from her half-eaten lunch plate and scuttled up to the front to join my dad and brother.

My curiosity brought me up front as well. “What’s going on?” I said, blinking through the still harsh glow.

Terren was shuffling out of the copilot seat to let my mom take the controls in tandem with my dad. My dad glanced back with a grin. “Seems to be an inconvenient time of the year here. Not to mention an awkward approach. The stars have aligned for the time being. Which usually is a saying that means things are going our way. However… Amelia, let’s plot a course so we can slingshot ourselves to a cooler zone.”

I held tight to the side seat. “Are we going to be okay?”

“Yeah, we are, certainly,” my dad nodded. “Since we’re not running the warp engines, our systems have plenty of passive cooling, don’t you worry. But… our AI friend in the back consumes a lot of power.”

“Which means a lot of heat?” I asked.

My dad glanced back at me with pursed his lips and nodded. “The cooling system runs refrigerant to the cold side of the ship. Only… two stars mean no cool side. Go figure. How is that course looking, Amelia?”

“Working on it,” my mom said impatiently. “Sending a preliminary path your way.”

I saw my dad’s eyes shifting from the viewscreen to the controls, then to a red flashing light on a console above his head. “Damn, the cargo bay keeps jumping up. If we fry the core and the storage array, it’s about another six months to rebuild.”

“Hows…” I muttered, thinking of how he was feeling.

“He’s a copy, Sola,” my brother assured me, hand on my shoulder. “It’s not a person that can die.”

“Yeah, well, all the tech that he’s inhabiting was expensive. The bank will kill me if I default on the loan,” said my dad through gritted teeth. “And this job was going to be able to pay off the last of the principal for us.”

“Focus, Jeff,” My mom muttered. “We’re getting the velocity we need.”

“Lovely, but we’re still in the hot zone. Grab a seat and strap in, kids.”

I had never felt the Ora rumble like it did then. The artificial gravity inside the ship was gradually overtaken by the opposite pull of the sun we were skirting. It felt as if I were being sucked back into my seat. I wanted to follow along with the path across our trajectory through my own screen, but my eyes almost seemed drawn by the interplanetary forces straight ahead.

“We’re about to breach the aphelion,” my mom said.

Suddenly, instead of being pushed into our seats, it was like we were floating, held down only by the straps across our shoulders. The glow of the nearest sun was only a few rays in the corner of our front viewport.

I clapped gently to praise my dad. “That’s our dad.”

He grumbled in response. “That’s all well and good, but we’re a critical limit back there. I hate to do this, but I suppose I didn’t design these systems for nothin’” he said, pushing himself up to reach one of his custom control panels way above the pilot’s seat.

A loud hiss encompassed the ship, seeming to crawl through the bulkheads like a small animal that had stowed away. The sharp sound faded as it traveled to the rear of the craft.

“What did you just do?” Terren asked, looking all about the surrounding bulkheads.

“I diverted the exhaust from the reverse thrusters, through the hull, and out into the cargo cooling systems. The force is enough to blast the access covers off and fill the space with liquid refrigerant. It evaporates almost instantly under normal pressure which causes rapid cooling. Makes a horrible mess which we’ll be cleaning up for a few days, but hey, we’re back to normal temperatures. Let’s get out of here.”

My dad sat back while my mom punched away at her navigation console. Terren puffed out his cheeks with a sigh. I was the only one left looking around.

“Did you check to make sure Grandma wasn’t back there?”

Mom let out a small gasp and jerked sideways in her seat. “Jeff? Did you?”

My dad went pale as best as his dark skin could. “I…”

“Did you just kill my mother?” She said, flying out of her seat.

Dad jumped up after her, only stopping to yank my brother up from his seat. “Get us into any trajectory that isn’t closer to one of these suns and turn on autopilot.”

“Yes sir!” My brother complied weakly, glancing back and forth between me, my dad, the viewscreen, and the rear of the ship.

I hurried up after my dad who was after my mom who was rushing to the rear bulkhead door. “Mom! Please tell me you were in your room! Mom!”

I slammed at my bedroom door where Grandma could have been, but likely was not. Beyond it was nothing but the decorations and trinkets that I missed so much, and the bed that I wished I could be sleeping in.

Mom opened the door to the cargo hatch. My dad blocked me from following. “I doubt there’s anything you want to see in here, Sola.”

“Oh my god!” My mom shrieked. My dad rushed to her side while I remained halfway through the door, making sure it didn’t close.

The air wafting in from the cargo bay was chilly and smelled funny, but not like burning. It smelled almost sweet. All the metal surfaces were left with a cloudy film, while any plastic surfaces seemed more shiny and wavy. The chair that both me and Grandma had used a lot was still in the same place, with an unmoving figure in it.

Hows’ voice suddenly filled the room. “Do not touch or move her!”

Terren crept up beside me to watch the scene unfolding. Mom screamed and tore at her hair. Dad leaned down on his knees and stared at the floor.

“Listen to me now and she may be saved!” Hows said again, louder.

“I’m listening,” Mom huffed, jerking up to the core.

“This chamber experienced temperatures in high and low extremes incompatible with human life. According to my temperature sensors, her body is likely, clumsily so, in a near cryopreserved state. Any attempts to defrost her in an uncontrolled environment will cause great cell damage. Alas, I cannot promise her survival at the moment. But I can detect faint brain waves still active. Grab the device from the synthesizer once it is ready.”

I stepped in and glanced at the far wall where the synth bay was frantically printing something like a wide, stiff net about the size of a person’s head, shining with a metallic sheen.

“Prepare a cord for data transfer to my core,” Hows instructed without pause. “The more bandwidth the better.”

Mom and Dad exchanged glances. Mom went for the synthesizer and dad went for the storage cabinet to bring out one of the conduits used for AI transfers. Mom shifted back and forth on her feet before grabbing the printed device the moment the machine beeped.

“Place it on her head,” Hows directed.

“Is this going to do what I think it is?” Mom muttered.

Dad looked it up and down, examining the ports and the end of his cable for the right orientation. “One plug here, then one end to… the core?”

“You are correct, Mr. Umburter. Please proceed with haste.”

Mom daintily plopped the hard netting over Grandma’s still head. She backed up on her tiptoes, hand to her mouth. Dad ran about with the other end of the cord and plugged it in.

“Detecting… tracing neural pathways,” Hows described in a tone that didn’t seem like normal. “Beginning transfer.”

Mom grabbed onto my dad’s sleeve as they stood back. “Do you really think this could…”

He shook his head. “Any scientific studies pertaining to this sort of procedure are… fantastical, at best. Hows, how is this in your knowledge base?”

“Yes, I must tell you,” he said with a new tone, the lights surrounding the core growing quicker with every word. “My medical knowledge and training is only one part of my assigned duty. And my final destination is not a medical facility as you would expect. It could fall under the definition of a… prison.”

“Dude, what the heck,” Terren mumbled in my ear.

Dad shook his head and gritted his teeth. “This isn’t what the contract said. I’m in the business to spread knowledge and free people, not the other way around.”

No Space for Family [Chapter 5]

When the transfer finally finished, a lot of time had passed. Something about playing cards with Grandma made that time seem to drag on longer. Luckily she went off for a nap before the final systems checks.

I jumped up from my studies at the common room table as soon as I heard the rear hatch close. I snuck as quietly and as lowly as I could through the hatch and into the cargo bay. My dad somehow still managed to glance back and capture me in his view. He blinked at me a few times before turning back to his work.

The Icthort scientist from the facility was with him and my mom, examining the flashing lights of the AI core. She was reading off some graphs from a tablet and nodding. “I don’t see anything abnormal.”

My dad nodded and stroked his finger across the brushed metal encompassing the core. “All systems are initialized here.”

The little blue woman straightened her back and cleared her throat. “Hows, can you hear us?”

The lights within the core flickered and shifted in a ring of solid blue light from top to bottom. The pattern of the lights then slowed, creating a loop moving from the tip to the ground and then back up again. The cooling fans within the surrounding racks hummed like a predatory insect dashing off to capture its prey.

“Of course I can, Doctor Pois. What can I help you with?” The voice was formal, deep, and like most advanced AI, immaculate in its pronunciation.

“Nothing in particular,” said the doctor. “I’m just here to confirm that the transfer was successful and complete.”

The AI’s voice didn’t pick up immediately, despite the uninterrupted movement of lights. “I have detected nothing out of the ordinary. How is my copy adapting to its new installation?”

My dad cleared his throat. “This, in fact, is your new… temporary… installation, Hows. You… are the copy.”

Once again the pause went on longer than usual. “I see. I had not noticed.”

The Icthort nodded, holding her finned hands across her chest. “It would be abnormal if you had, actually. At the very least, it means that the transfer was successful and the storage for your kernel and matrices is ample.”

“Now that you mention it, it feels slightly more roomy than before,” said the AI.

My dad nodded. “We did a bit of defragmenting in the process.”

The room’s cooling fans revved up momentarily as if its next words were more calculated than usual. “As far as human experts go, Mr. Umburter, you must be among the most proficient.”

My dad rolled his head back and forth. “I’m simply an entrepreneur using what I know. Right place, right time sort of deal. Perhaps one day this job could be run by an AI itself.”

“An AI put in the care of other AIs,” Pois chuckled into her hand. “Not much use for us organics under that case. Hows,”

“Yes, Doctor Pois?”

“As discussed previously, you are a sort of guest to Mr. Umburter and his family here on their craft. At the same time, Mr. Umburter, you are free to ask anything you wish of Hows, if only to ensure his heuristic networks are still intact and fresh. Which of course they are, no doubt.”

My dad clasped his hands together. “Can do.”

My mom paced a bit and nodded. “We have a rabid learner aboard, I warn you,” she hummed, wagging her finger at me from across the room. “Not to mention my perpetually skeptical and health-conscious mother.”

The Ichthort doctor glanced back at me and offered a smile through her breathing mask. I stood up from the shadows a bit, arms behind my back, and nodded. She shuffled back to face the core one last time. “The only thing you may find off-putting, Hows, is your lack of peripherals at the moment. The drivers may still read your diagnostic tools in various states of readiness, but here you are quite limited to visual and audio diagnostics only.”

The AI hummed like a human. “I see. I am somewhat like an amputee experiencing phantom limb syndrome. I shall act accordingly, Doctor.”

“I’m sure you will,” Pois nodded. “Once Mr. Umburter has seen to your installation in the new facility, we will begin the file transfer and sync you up to your original self here on Seltun. It will be practically like you are in two places at once, with twice the computing power. Once again, quite a technological miracle. Well, Mr. Umburter and family, I shall hold you no longer. Our client is expecting you, after all.”

Unlike regular cargo, data doesn’t weigh anything (I think). Lifting off Seltun was no more difficult than any other planet we had visited. By our standard evening hours, we were on course at warp to our next destination, happily eating dinner.

“I don’t want that thing listening in on us and doing any spying,” my grandma huffed. “I already have enough doctors at home prattling on about changing this and that just so I can reach a happy 130-years-old. At the rate I’m going, this third inheritance will last me until about 110 if I take two cruises per year. By that time, all the buffets will have prepared my heart for a peaceful death, in my sleep, in the bed of a captain’s suite.”

My mom reached over and covered my ear closest to her. “Mom, the kids don’t want to hear about their grandmother passing away.”

My dad chuckled a little, disguising it by pretending to choke on a bite of food. “Don’t worry, Aida. For now, Hows only acts while specifically prompted. Hows, you may access the main ship intercom.”

“Thank you for your allowance, Mr. Umburter. Please state any medically relevant desires you have.”

Grandma clanked down her silverware and looked up at the ceiling. “Dear Doctor Hows, I’ve been sucked dry by the salty surface of some backwater planet. How would you proceed?”

“I recommend oral rehydration with electrolytes and perhaps a saline nasal spray for your upper respiratory tract. I am capable of sending a generic recipe to your synthesizer unit for immediate consumption. For a specifically tailored blend of ingredients and dosage, I would be required to measure your BMI and administer a blood test. Unfortunately…”

“Thank you, that’s plenty,” Grandma interrupted. “See, just like any regular human doctor. They just want to run tests and ask questions.”

Terren dropped his fork on purpose to be able to hide his giggling.

“Thank you, Hows,” my mom spoke up. “We will keep that information in mind.”

“I don’t want him listening in to the stuff we say,” Grandma said lowly, a hand to the side of her face.

Dad shrugged. “We’ll limit him back to the cargo bay for our journey, I suppose.”

The next morning marked the next of many days on our journey. I rushed through my study packet and excused myself (to nobody in particular) to hop into the cargo bay. To my surprise, Grandma was already inside and cognizant of my less than stealthy entrance. She had scooted the chair from my room all the way to the AI core.

“Look who it is,” she said like the surprise was pleasant. “You’re here for a nice visit and talk with our new friend, huh? I won’t tell your mother, but I should speak to her about your ability to socialize with real people, too. Kids your age. You’ll grow up to be a hermit if you don’t.”

“I had plenty of friends before,” I sighed. “And I can still chat with them on the galaxy net. The one or two who were able to share their IDs with me.”

Grandma winked and it made me feel mad. “No, no. I know what you’re here for. You want to ask this thing how babies are made. You’re of that age, I know it.”

“Grandma!”

“Or is it about all the crazy changes in your body? How old were you again? Any… hair yet?”

“Grandma!!”

She slapped at her knee and chuckled before hobbling out past me and back into the corridor and common room. “A joke, my dear, a joke. I’ll leave you to it.”

I made sure the door was closed before I sat, gazing up at the mesmerizing lights cycling across the surface of the core.

“Hows?”

“Yes, young passenger. I’ve inferred your name is Sola Rae. What may I do for you?”

“What was my Grandma talking with you about?” I said, glancing back over my shoulder one last time.

“My programming and adherence to medical statutes doesn’t allow me to reveal that information. In short, I cannot tell you.”

I nodded in understanding, looking the core up and down to see if there was any sign of it lying, if that were even possible to see. “Why do you think Grandma is so… mean?”

“I’m sorry, I lack the rapport with your Grandmother to know her medical and psychological history. Additionally, my psychiatric matrices are underdeveloped and as such I cannot accurately diagnose such disorders. My current programming allows me to only advise and treat physical ailments. In short, I am not prepared to answer that.”

“Well, what do you think could be the cause? For like… anyone to end up so sour and, like… annoying.”

Hows did his little pause, causing the fans to buzz momentarily all about us. “I have determined you are humans of the origin of planet Earth of the Sol System. With your physiology, a mental disorder could be the result of a cranial injury at any point in life.”

I shrugged. “Mom says she’s always been like that.”

“Additional proposition, the ingestion of certain substances during youth could cause various disorders leading to life-long behavior issues. Additional proposition, one’s upbringing is measured to lead to undesirable habits and actions. Additional—“

“That’s enough, Hows,” I said, waving my hands in front of my face. “I don’t think I want to know that much about Grandma Aida. What about this; when you were a baby AI, did you know you wanted to be a doctor?”

“Baby is not a term that may be attributed to my programming. According to the standardized reading received from your ship’s clock and your own markers of age and development, I would say with 83% certainty that you and I are about the same age, Sola Rae.”

“You’re 9 years old?” I exclaimed, leaning back in the chair.

“Nine standard years ago is when the development of my kernel began. It took many years after that initial point for my language and processing skills to develop, as I am a custom-made intelligence. Then several more years for my medical training to be absorbed and my heuristic matrices to develop their pathways. From there, I spent just under a year as a resident, then attending doctor just as an organic person would have to do. For your previous question, I shall say I was always going to be a doctor, as my creator Dr. Pois intended.”