Chapter 17
Chris laid in the coordinates for Ek-clar Station. Ek-clar was a legitimate trading station at the edge of the League territories, just inside Belarian space. A wide variety of goods and materials came and went through this central point of transfer. The station also provided repair service for ships and a temporary respite for travelers who needed a break from the monotony of ship life.
They had almost forty-two hours before arriving.
“Perhaps this would be a good time to tell me what happened while I was asleep,” Homer suggested.
Chris was embarrassed about having forgotten Homer. He updated him on the events of the last ten hours, starting with locating the pickup. Homer was curious about the criminal Raymond Ginyit and about Chris’ opposition to having memories implanted, but Chris was simply too tired for a discussion.
“I’m sorry Homer. I’m afraid I need to sleep.” Chris felt exhaustion setting in. A lot had happened in the last two days, and he was desperate for sleep.
“I will wait and monitor our progress to Ek-clar station. Pleasant dreams, Chris.”
Chris went to one of the beds in sickbay, and fell asleep immediately.
In his dream Chris was in the backyard of his house, building a deck (which was strange, because Chris had never owned a house, let alone a backyard). It was daytime. His senses were heightened. Colors were crisp. Sounds were rich and varied. He could smell fresh cut grass.
He was using decking screws, because he disliked decking nails. Screws could be unscrewed, while decking nails were a nightmare to get out. He had put a great deal of planning and care into this deck and was pleased with the results.
The dream shifted. Now he was having a conversation and a glass of wine with a friend. The person was a tall, blond haired, gangly man whom. Chris had never seen before, yet recognized as a friend. Both of them agreed the Big Bang theory relied far too much on its original assumption the redshift of stars was caused by the stars moving away from each other. His friend noted it was curious the cosmologists supporting the theory were unable to find the direction of the center of the universe. If all the stars were moving away from a central point, how hard could it be to find out the direction of that central point. Chris’ major problem was the mathematical limits on how the universe functioned. He saw cosmologists as mathematicians who had to set limits on the universe, reducing it into something they could work with their equations.
Again the dream changed. The sun was shining and he was on a city sidewalk. People wore clothing made out of thick, heavy materials. In front of a store window, there were two tables loaded with paper books for sale. Through the window he could see more books set up in a display arrangement on shelves. Across the street was a theater he had once visited. He recognized the city as Ann Arbor, but was unsure of when he had seen it.
He was following someone, a man further down the street dressed in black pants and a tan short sleeve shirt. Continuing to follow the man, while maintaining a discrete distance, a small group of Asian youths passed Chris, blocking his field of vision for an instant. His quarry was still in sight, and turning down an alley.Chris immediately sensed a setup. His target, Chris knew, stayed in expensive hotels and drove expensive cars. Casually walking down an alley was completely out of character. He might get dirty. And this guy was fanatically clean.
Suddenly, Chris found himself at a party, but it wasn’t a party. It was a discussion group. Chris was at a table with several other individuals. They were discussing cloning. The room was like no room Chris had ever been in before. It had harsh angles. The walls and ceilings had odd, pebbled textures. Chris listened to the people talking. Most were very old and what they were saying surprised and frightened Chris. They were saying clones would have no souls, and so would not be self-aware. If they were not self-aware, there would be no problem using them as spare body parts.
Chris was now strapped to a table. Dr. Liechter was there with a laser scalpel.
“Well, my boy, I’ve received several orders for spare body parts. I’m sure you won’t mind. After all, since you don’t have a soul, you should be unaware of the loss.”
Chris felt no pain as Liechter cut off his right arm at the shoulder and carefully placed it in a stasis case. He watched as his right foot was sheared off, the laser cauterizing the blood vessels so there was no bleeding.
“We’re going to infuse you with regeneration chemicals,” the doctor said. It will take several months for replacement parts to grow back, but I’m sure they’ll be available by the time we receive our next order.”
Liechter was now moving to Chris’ groin. Chris found he was unable to speak and couldn’t move because of the straps. Liechter started cutting and Chris screamed silently.
He woke up in a sweat, wondering where he was. He felt completely disoriented. He had never had a dream like that before. Where had he been? The clothing had looked like something out of the year 2000.
Ancient memories leaking into my dreams. This must be my brains way of processing the transferred memories.
Fear welled up inside him for a brief instant, a fear of going insane, as Martha Apela had. He relaxed the fear and the tension out of his body and mind, being completely here and now. He got up from the bed and entered the cockpit.
“Hello, Chris. Have you completed your sleep cycle?” Homer asked.
“Yes. I think so. How long was I asleep?”
“For approximately eight and a half hours.”
“A long time for me. I generally only sleep for six hours, and rarely more than seven and a half.” Chris considered what he had been through. “I did need the sleep, though. I feel much better. We have what, about thirty-three hours before we get to Ek-clar station?”
“Yes. You are correct.”
“Well, this would be a good time for questions and answers, tho I warn you, everything I say is strictly my own opinion and my own interpretation of events. Also, in typical male tradition, I may get tired of speaking after about an hour, so I’ll probably need a break.”
“Everything you say is based on your own unique perceptual screening process and you may need a break in approximately an hour,” responded Homer.
“Yes. Very good use of empathic reflection. You accurately rephrased and simplified what I said to verify your understanding,” Chris said, with an edge of sarcastic humor in his voice. “Very good! Why don’t we start with my concerns about having memories transferred into my brain. Hold on for a few minutes.”
Washing his face with cold water helped him to wake up. He wished the ambulance had a shower, but understood there wasn’t enough room. He changed into the civilian clothing he had been wearing prior to his boarding the Gipper.
“I think my biggest concerns, Homer,” Chris said, returning to the cockpit, “are based on fear. Altho the doctor believes the transferred memories will be accepted without any major problems, he doesn’t have any solid evidence to suggest what will happen. He said there has been success with twin chimpanzees, but experiments with people who aren’t related end with the memory recipient going insane. And suppose the memories do transfer without any major problems. How are they going to change me? Will I become a different person? Is there any chance the donor will somehow take over and I’ll become a memory?”
“You are concerned the memory transfer may cause you to go insane, and even if it does not cause insanity, your identity will be altered dramatically.”
“Yes. Exactly. I’m also furious this was done against my will. If I could, I would destroy Liechter. The desire may be sourced from my anger, but I do genuinely believe the universe would be a safer place without him in it.” Chris could hear his own voice rising with anger and frustration.
“Perhaps he could simply be restrained in one of your prison systems, or have a memory erasure done,” suggested Homer.
“Yeah. You’re right. A memory erasure would be enough. But what do I do in the meantime. While I was asleep the donor’s memories surfaced in my dreams.” Fear was in his voice and he could feel himself flushing.
“Chris, I believe I must set aside empathic listening and attempt to reason with you. All the psychological literature I have digested suggests you are a very stable personality type and this of approach should be successful. It is my understanding human twins, two individuals with the same genetic code, often develop similar identities when growing up together in the same environment, and generally express many behavioral similarities, even when they have been raised in different environments. It seems probable the donor would have many of the same behavioral patterns and basic personality traits you have. If this is true, then it is unlikely you will go insane or develop a radical change in your sense of identity. By resisting the new memories, you are expending more energy than you would by simply accepting and absorbing them. Your mission is very important and should receive your full attention. If you are not successful in capturing the corbinite, hundreds of billions of people could die. I think it would be a mistake to direct your attention to an internal battle with your memories, rather than putting all of your energies into your mission. Am I incorrect in assuming recovering the corbinite is of more immediate importance then than the issue of possible insanity in three months?”
Chris was stunned. He had come to view Homer as innocent and naive, and had forgotten he was also a highly developed being with great intellectual skills. He blinked twice, processing the information Homer had presented.
“Very logical, Homer. I have to agree with you. I was letting my emotions cloud my judgement. Thank you. There is a mind control technique in which a person, using his imagination, creates a box and puts a problem troubling him inside the box, closes the lid and puts the box on a shelf. The problem can then be forgotten until later or until a solution presents itself. I’ll use this technique to put the problem away temporarily.”
“We discussed fear very briefly before arriving on Corbin III. I understand you view emotions as tools, but I am astonished at how fear seems to override intelligent thinking,” Homer observed.
“That may be more true than I want to admit. It is true fear can cause people to behave stupidly. I’ve read yoga texts describing fear as the enemy of man.”
Chris thought for a moment before continuing. “You know, Homer, I can’t think of a single good reason for fear to exist in a mature human adult. It doesn’t improve the quality of life and it’s not very useful in adult behavior. Children, yes, because their intellectual abilities haven’t yet developed and fear would be useful in keeping them from harm. Children are the only reason I can think of for keeping fear included in human genetics. It’s such a basic, primal emotion, tho. I have to wonder whether it could be separated from our survival instinct. It might be the essence of our survival instinct. Maybe it does serve a useful purpose, in which case, learning to control it would be better than eliminating it.”
“You are unsure of your beliefs on this issue. Much of the literature available on fear seems to be contradictory as well. Some articles describe fear as an enjoyable experience for thrill seekers.”
“Well, it is an experience I can relate to. I have a gene which causes me to receive a great deal of pleasure from dopamine and adrenaline, which are produced in threatening situations.”
“Yes, I read an article on the topic. Within the article, the question, should this gene be considered a potentially dangerous defect, was asked. The author chose to answer the question by stating Mars would have never achieved its independence if this gene didn’t exist.”
“The human body is a very complicated balancing act, Homer. Even today, with our knowledge of genetics and regeneration techniques, we still have a poor understanding of all its complexities.”
“Earlier you asked me to remind you of the topic ‘the journey and the destination’. I am curious about this subject.”
“Well,” said Chris, “let me ask you, as a Gredorian, which is more important, achieving a goal or the method you use to achieve the goal?”
“It would depend on the importance of the goals and whether the methodology broke any laws.”
Patience, Chris, patience, he thought. “I agree. Let’s say the goal is important, and no laws are broken attaining this goal.”
“In such a case, achieving the goal is more important than the method. The most efficient method would be advantageous, but if it is not an option then the second most efficient method should be used.”
“Humans don’t always practice that philosophy. Sometimes they place more importance on the method than on the goal.”
“This is a very strange concept. Why would they do such a thing?” asked Homer.
“Pleasure, adventure, curiosity, morality. A desire to experience new and unfamiliar things. Emotional reasons. Efficiency is not always important to humans.”
“You would deliberately allow your emotions to be involved in your decision making process?”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
“I have not placed enough emphasis on the importance of human emotions in your decision making process. I have viewed emotions as unnecessary and inefficient leftovers of your evolution, regardless of how much you seemed to enjoy them. Why would you allow emotions to take precedence over efficiency?”
“Because it seems to work. From the human perspective, the most efficient method is not always the best method. We make a lot of mistakes with this approach, but we also gain valuable knowledge from those mistakes. Have you read gaining knowledge evokes a sensation of pleasure in humans?”
“No. It is information has not been acquired.”
Chris shrugged. “The libraries you’ve been able to tap into haven’t been very extensive. When we get back to Mars you’ll have a lot more data available. Anyway, we do feel pleasure from seeking out and gaining knowledge. It’s been an important factor in the our evolution. And we don’t experience it by following the most efficient path to our destination. That would be routine and boring. Now it’s my turn to ask you a question. What do you know about the Belarian race, and more specifically about Ek-clar station?”
“Very little. My programming was developed to prepare me for studying human culture. It was limited to knowledge of such things as human genetics, the English language, and some of the basic customs humans have been observed performing. I have been programmed with very little information about other races.”