Borne On Wings of Steel Page 6

  She took a deep breath, trying to regain control of herself. “Yes, you did. You said what you were thinking, what you think—of me!"

  Jaric held his hands up defensively. “Wait..."

  “No, you wait!” Elise walked closer to him as he eyed her carefully. She stared into his eyes. “You don't think I'm a real person. You never have. And neither have you!” She jabbed her finger at Kyle with the last sentence.

  Kyle let out a sigh as he rolled his eyes.

  “Just because I wasn't born, just because I'm a clone of Becky, you don't think I'm a real person.” She stated this fact as if it were a spiritual revelation. Her mouth fell open as she looked from Jaric to Kyle, her eyes now wide with understanding.

  “Well, I didn't mean...” Jaric began.

  “You treat me like some kind of unwanted step-child!” Elise cried.

  But Kyle and Jaric simply averted their eyes.

  “Oh, I'm sure you didn't mean to say it in front of me. And Mother.” Elise sobbed, new tears falling fresh. She wiped them away quickly, as if they had never been, although her heart was breaking once again—because of the boys.

  Kyle and Jaric each lowered their heads a fraction in shame as they realized for the first time that Mother's sensors were active in the library.

  “Oh man, I guess Mother's heard all of this.” Jaric sighed.

  “Unfortunately, I have,” Mother said.

  A pained looked covered Jaric's face, while Kyle shook his head slowly and sighed again.

  “But that's it, isn't it, I'm just the clone,” Elise uttered the last two words as if it were something loathsome. She paused, fighting the tears that threatened to fall again. Her breathing grew ragged for only a second, as with all her will, she focused her pain back into words. “You think the clone is not a real person. That I'm not real somehow."

  The tension in the air grew electric with raw emotion as Elise looked from Jaric to Kyle, daring them to speak.

  “But if you strike me, I cry. If you cut me, I bleed! Just like you!"

  Jaric's eyes narrowed as Kyle held his breath.

  “And if you kill me, I die!” Elise clenched her eyes shut, still fighting her tears. But she couldn't prevent a single, mournful sob. She continued, her voice now full of sadness. “But maybe that's what you really want, you'd rather I was dead than here bothering you with my presence!"

  “Wait a minute, aren't you going a bit far..."

  But Elise did not let Jaric finish. “Think about how you've treated me ever since you first laid eyes on me! How you've avoided me, resented me, talked behind my back. Don't you think that's hurt me?” Elise took a deep breath. And then she put her pain into words.

  “You know, sometimes I wish I was dead."

  Expressions of regret and guilt clouded Kyle and Jaric's faces.

  “Yes, I know. Everybody wishes Becky were still alive. Everybody wants Becky back. And you know...” The tears returned, streaming like rain down her cheeks. She began to sob now, no longer caring if the boys saw how badly she hurt.

  “You kno-o-ow,” she sobbed. “I wish Becky was alive too,” she cried. “And I wish that I was dead instead of her. Everybody would be much happier then. And the clone would be gone forever!"

  Jaric and Kyle stared at Elise dumb-founded.

  With a rush, Elise ran out of the room, her painful sobs cutting the air like blaster fire.

  * * * *

  JARIC SAT DOWN and placed his head into his hands, rubbing his temples as if he were suffering from an intense migraine.

  Kyle stared at the closed door, speechless, still shaking his head.

  “I guess ... I guess she might be right,” Jaric whispered.

  “It's not her fault Becky died,” Kyle agreed.

  “Elise is a unique person, even though she looks identical because she is a clone,” Mother added, unable to watch in silence any longer.

  Jaric stood and walked to door. He stopped suddenly and turned back to Kyle, glancing momentarily at Mother's optic sensor. “I'm going to try to treat Elise ... differently from now on.” Jaric sighed. “I'm going to try to treat her like a ... a person.” A pained looked came across his face with the memory of Elise running from the room. Looking down, he fidgeted nervously with his hands while a thick silence filled the room.

  “Like a real person,” Jaric whispered.

  Kyle nodded silent agreement.

  “It'll still be hard. Every time I look at her, I see Becky. But I've got to stop thinking that way.” Jaric looked directly at Mother. “I'll try."

  He spoke from the doorway. “I have to think about this some more. It's hard for me, too. Tell the Fixers I'll have dinner by myself in my room.” The door slid silently shut.

  Kyle rose.

  “Do you agree with Jaric, Kyle?” Mother asked.

  Kyle rubbed his eyes tiredly. “When I saw her tears, and thought about Jaric's slip-of-the-tongue, well...” Kyle sighed deeply. “I thought back to Earth, early twenty-first century. Back to those first, foolish attempts at cloning humans—the accidents.” He emphasized the last word with hidden meaning, and with sadness.

  “It was terrible,” Mother agreed.

  “So much pain, for so many.” Kyle's eyes became moist. “I guess the awful connotation associated with that word—clone—well, that poisoned both of our reactions right off toward Elise. And then every time I looked at her, I only saw Becky."

  He stood with sudden energy. “I want to be alone too. I guess all three of us do, right now. We'll have to postpone the ‘Music Evening’ this week."

  “And Elise practiced so hard,” Mother said.

  But Kyle did not acknowledge her words. Instead, he made his way to his room, to be alone with his pain like the other two.

  Mother's optic sensor watched him leave impassively.

  The next two hours went by in quiet solitude. Mother focused her processing on necessary housekeeping tasks, especially her memory systems. She utilized an algorithm she designed herself in order to keep it at optimum efficiency.

  A sudden shimmering in the air caught her attention.

  “I am glad you are back, Minstrel. And I'm glad you've changed back to your natural, plasma body. Did you enjoy the ‘Happy Dancing'?"

  “Yes. It's always fun discovering new music—especially music we classify as Escastre or Special Music."

  “What is that?"

  “Music that is on another level—music that floats in your mind all day after you've listened to it. And as you listen, you feel its power, its emotions."

  “Yes, I know what you mean. I've played the entire Mozart catalogue today,” Mother said.

  “That's a lot of Mozart."

  “You can never have too much Mozart,” Mother said, her tone matter-of-fact.

  Minstrel glowed and swirled with agreement.

  “It is fascinating though, that some of his music—certain of his melodies—echo through my memory systems over and over for hours afterward. Such music is different in a mysterious way, while other music by Mozart is simply pleasant and melodious—just music."

  “Escastre. Somehow the composer, like Mozart, infuses the notes with passion and pathos and it lives. That is music on another level.” Minstrel twinkled, remembering the first reports of Mozart's music by another Minstrel visiting Earth during his lifetime long ago.

  “It is music that moves the inner emotions of biological life-forms. Although I too can somehow sense it is on another level,” Mother said.

  A wave of blue and black flashed throughout Minstrel. “Have I missed something tonight? I passed Kyle in the corridor just now, and he was the opposite of what I experienced at the Blue Star—which was happy."

  “I will fill you in later. Let me say there was a very emotional, a very human, encounter between the boys and Elise tonight."

  Minstrel's body twinkled with a thousand lights. “Well, we did want them to interact with each other."

  “Yes, we did,” Mother said. “But ano
ther emotional issue is bothering the boys. They are once again too preoccupied with searching for human survivors. Every time we visit a new planet, that is the only thing that interests them. They don't enjoy meeting new aliens. Nor do they want to explore these new worlds and experience the beauty and uniqueness of each. They are missing out."

  “Indeed, how many beings yearn to travel to the stars and never get the chance,” Minstrel said with a wave of color. “And here the boys have traveled to scores of worlds and met dozens of interesting alien beings. Yet, they don't take advantage of this wonderful privilege because they are so preoccupied."

  “How could we get them to focus on traveling to another world and simply enjoying it?” Mother wondered.

  Minstrel's plasma body glowed and swirled like a multi-colored whirlpool.

  “Life is a journey, not a race."

  “And the boys live as if it is a race, with the only goal to find other survivors,” Mother said.

  “They need to enjoy life more,” Minstrel said.

  “And they can still keep their utmost objective. But if they appreciated the beauty, the wonder of life around them..."

  “Did humans have a process for such activity in their past—to simply enjoy themselves?” Minstrel asked.

  Mother referenced her vast knowledgebase. “There is a process entitled vacation."

  “Perhaps they need a vacation then?” Minstrel said.

  “I must research this term,” Mother said.

  “All beings need time to rest and refresh themselves—a time of renewal. A time to simply enjoy themselves and life.” Minstrel glowed brighter. The plasma alien danced in the air, waiting for Mother to complete her search.

  Ten seconds passed in mutual silence.

  “I have studied over one million references to the term vacation—a most interesting concept,” Mother said, breaking their short reverie.

  “Please explain, how do humans ... vacation?"

  “In most instances, humans travel to distant locations far from their normal residence—traveling to cities or areas of great, natural beauty. Food, dance, music and associating with new friends seem to be common themes.” Mother's processors hummed as she correlated and cross-referenced more data about humans and their vacations.

  “Well, that's easy enough to do with a starship. And vacation sounds like a good thing, if music and food is involved.” Waves of silver and green swept Minstrel's plasma surface.

  “Two intra-planetary locations seem to be the most popular destinations—either traveling to the mountains for recreation and relaxation, or going to a tropical climate and enjoying sea-side activities. The latter seems to be slightly preferred from all the sources I have checked so far."

  “We must find a planet that will fit the needs of a perfect human vacation. Perhaps one with beautiful mountain ranges—I've visited some worlds where the mountains are fifty kilometers tall. And I've traveled to worlds with exquisite oceans of various colors—sometimes seas of gold, or orange or royal blue. Although the most beautiful ocean I've had the pleasure of swimming in was the deepest, darkest green. And the wonderful beaches bordering their shores—fabulous! Surely we can find a planet perfect for vacation,” Minstrel chimed.

  “Another reason for choosing a particular location for a human vacation seems to hinge on the term festival.” Mother paused as she digested more data on this new subject. “There are various themes to festivals—the most popular festivals are based on music and tradition and drink. It seems festival and vacations are almost synonymous."

  “I understand why a festival based on music would be so enjoyable. I can imagine all the various flavors of music coming together in one place in order to celebrate life with song. Minstrels have such momentous events once every thousand years—we call it Caldara. All Minstrels come together from the far reaches of space, bringing with us the songs we've discovered or created from our distant travels. It is a very special time for Minstrels. And a lot of fun!"

  “But how many could you attend—a thousand years is a long time between each Caldara."

  “Minstrels suffer from no natural disease. It is only due to accident or violence that a Minstrel's life is cut short. Otherwise, we live on indefinitely."

  “And how long is the normal life-span of a Minstrel?"

  “I have attended twenty-four such Festivals of Minstrels.” Wave after wave of twinkling lights swept Minstrels fluidic body. “And I am nowhere near what is considered the middle epoch of a normal Minstrel life-span."

  Mother whistled, a long, electronic sound that slowly faded away. “That's a long time. You risked much by fighting alongside us against the T'kaan, with such a potentially long life ahead of you. You might have died."

  “Indeed. But I evaluated the risk as worth it—for your sake, and the children. And for the universe to be safe from T'kaan."

  “You honor me, and my children. We will always value your friendship. I will now cross-reference the human definition of the ideal vacation and search for a planet upon which the children can experience it."

  “A delightful concept."

  “I only hope the children will embrace the concept of vacation and forget about searching for other humans for a while. I wonder if a vacation will be enough,” Mother lamented.

  “Remember how insistent Kyle was that the Kraaqi frigate go check out the planet Oord that serves as a trading center in the adjoining Sector, leaving only Rok to travel with us here?” Minstrel added, “I think the last few disappointments have really affected them."

  “I agree. But I do not want to divert them completely away from searching for any survivors, as remote a possibility as that hope may be. It is their greatest dream—to find other human survivors. And I do not want to damage something so dear to them."

  Minstrel's body glowed brightly, as if it might go nova. Minstrel spoke, its words echoing as if in a great, solemn hall.

  "O, but dreams die so hard. And well they should."

  “But when dreams fail, or never come true, it seems to humans that it is the end of their existence.” Mother paused, reflecting on that subject as she quickly referenced the knowledgebase where she reviewed the failed dreams of so many. Her checks found another list. “But if their dreams come to fruition, then it is their greatest happiness."

  “Well, being here may bring that to a climax. Even Minstrels travel, albeit incognito, to RahajMr to tap into its massive search engine, seeking out new worlds to visit. If there is mention of human survivors from anywhere in this section of the universe, and the Mrad are reputed to be able to gather data from all of the Known Quadrants, it will be here. The vastness of their knowledge is unheard of except for Minstrels themselves in our travels. This place could well be where Jaric's and Kyle's search will find success."

  “Or their final failure.” Mother's voice faded ominously.

  “There is another reason for our visit here,” Minstrel added quickly.

  “Yes?"

  “Because RahajMr is a focal point to which so many far-flung races travel to for data, it is the ideal place for Jaric and Kyle to meet aliens solely for the sake of friendly interchange. And enjoyment. In fact, RahajMr is the social entertainment center for this quadrant. Tourism is the second most important reason aliens travel here."

  “Well, I hope they indulge and have some fun. They need to,” Mother said.

  “I too, have a personal reason for coming here.” Minstrel's body undulated like a cloud as different colors shimmered across its body with emotion. “A reason associated with you."

  “Please elaborate."

  “Ever since I met you, Mother, I have marveled that a race was able to create technology that is sentient, alive. No other Minstrel has ever come across such a life-form as yourself, not in all the ages of our traveling the known universe."

  Mother's processors hummed with activity, remembering how the Minstrel race traveled to the ends of the universe.

  “But one Minstrel did report a rumor of
such a thing—recently.” Minstrel's body sparkled as a bright red wave swept over and over its tenuous surface. “A few months ago, in a search on this very system we used today. That Minstrel reported a reference, a single item, about a living computer system created on a nearby world."

  “I am intrigued,” Mother said.

  But now the flowing colors turned to deeper hues of blue and black across Minstrel as the twinkling lights faded. “I feel awkward."

  Mother processed this word. “Please explain. I would think the search would not elicit this emotion at all."

  “The initial search results were negative. I found nothing—almost as if it were never there. And my search received other answers that were very surprising. And I mean, very surprising,"

  Mother's processors hummed as she tried to predict the answer Minstrel received and that seemed to bother it so much. Although thousands of possible answers presented themselves, Mother could not locate a single one with a high probability of being correct.

  “With what initial answers did your search respond?” Mother finally asked.

  “My search revealed that there are actually laws forbidding such research among most alien races in this quadrant—laws forbidding artificial intelligence and even its research.” Minstrel paused, a sense of foreboding in its tone now. “In fact, the punishment on some worlds for this type of research is death."

  “That is incredible.” Mother's voice rose several decibels.

  Minstrel spoke, its voice filled with mystery.

  “I wonder why these worlds have outlawed this kind of research?"

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  * * *

  Chapter Six

  BACK AT ONE of the numerous Mrad Search Complexes, Ablek started to shut down the last console. The little black and white Clakza smiled to himself, reflecting that another profitable day was once again successfully concluded. Walking slowly to his desk, he again checked the daily tally of usage—over one hundred thousand requests for data from his complex alone.