Reigniting a Globeship

He had allowed a program crystal to come to sentience, had stolen a research vessel (along with a battle cruiser), and had taken his pregnant mate off-planet, kidnapped their charge, a child healer named Evonny who was given to them at her birth to raise. Now they are roaming the galaxy looking for a home for them all. The man's name was Jobadda.

         The program crystal was used to being housed in the body of the research vessel, but Jobadda had needed, no wanted, to take the battleship. What if there was no home to go to? They needed a portable home, and the battleship was that. Battleships were huge. They were designed to carry armies, and they had entire cities housed inside them. Aorala was stale and dead, there were no more armies, there was no more fighting. What use was a battleship to them anyway? An empty husk sitting in port... Still by now someone was probably chasing them. A battleship and a research vessel were gone, and then again, maybe no one cared. Their staid, preserved existence was killing them as much as their chosen barren way of life.

         They had traveled quickly at first, not stopping for anything. Jobadda had left his mate, Rillina, and the little one, Evonny, in stasis for the journey. He had had to sneak off-planet to start, all the Aoralan government cared about was “preserving” their way of life, and so he would have been killed had he stayed. They were preserved all right; They held their culture in stasis. He had never approved of, nor respected, his people or their government, still though when he had met Rillina that was it. He was bonded to her. Bonding was a biological response and didn't give him an option. The pheromones of one person reacted to the pheromones of another, and it triggered a response in the brain. The area in the brain affected in turn triggered another response, a telepathic sort of thing that caused the soul of each person simultaneously to reach out to one another and... bond. Respect wasn't in it. Fate and some twist of biology chose their union. They would be together the rest of their lives till they died. Mates that bonded, lived together and died together. It wasn't likely that he would survive her death. Bonding combined two souls into one, and linked a couple's thoughts. It wasn't exactly understood, not even by the proud Aoralan scientists that studied it. All efforts on the part of the Breeders to do away with it, failed. They may have considered letting his mate live, if they had not bonded... she was a Healer and thus indispensable. Truly, the Aoralan Enforcers would have been more likely to come after his mate, not the battleship or the research vessel. They wanted him dead, not her, but his death would mean her death... It was all so twisted around! Frustrating!

         He was scared, so scared it wasn't fear anymore, it was outright terror. A home had to be found, or one needed to be made on this vessel, but a problem existed; the program crystal was having trouble fusing the research vessel with the battleship portion of it's new self. The strong magnetic rings that made up the base of each vessel were competing with one another, and the research vessel's magnetic ring (magbelt) was not interacting nicely with that of the battleship. He was not sure how much longer the research portion's belt could withstand the pull of the belt on the battleship, and he was afraid it would be torn apart.

         The belt around the base of a ship consisted of many balls, each bound together by highly conductive metal girders, and by the force of magnetism itself. The vessel could propel and maneuver using this system, and the whole of the vessel was interspersed with smaller versions of these balls throughout the entire design, both in the research portion and the battle section. Continued fighting between the two sections would eventually tear up the belt of the top section.

         Jobadda, not being an engineer, did not know what to do about any of this, and waited. The only thing useful he could do was send out probes, and this he did with all due haste and efficiency. He sent one off into every direction, and more than a few into some. The probes could travel at a fairly high rate of speed, and they were also very easy to make. If the program could not combine the two portions of itself together, then they needed a planet. Hopefully the probes would find something suitable. Probes were not as fast as a research vessel, or battleship, but they were very fast and would have something to tell him in weeks. Jobadda and the program had chosen a part of the galaxy that the Aoralans had not conquered, but that Jobadda had explored some, and then went past that. Onward they pushed till they were well beyond anything known to the Aoralans, and well beyond anything anywhere any of them had thought of going.

         He felt he would lose what little sanity he felt he did possess in the time between now and when the probes reported back though, so he asked the program to wake him from stasis when the first of the probes reported back. The program complied.

         Stasis is an uncomfortable process. The tall cylindrical stasis chambers did not look inviting at all. If they were not so definitely needed, he would avoid them happily. It didn't cause pain, but the shift from being aware of time and events that are taking place one second, and the next being in the middle of a totally separate series of time and events, was a jarring experience. The person in stasis was not aware of time passing, or even of the process involved. You stepped into the chamber and the hatch closed, then you heard the click as it latched. The chamber filled with mist, and then the next second you would hear the latch release and the hatch opened. Mist cleared and there you were. Process complete, and now the person was awake and disoriented.

         The last coherent thought was that of Jobadda hoping that they had ran far enough. For him it was between one thought and the next and then he was awake again. It was very disconcerting and he didn't want to put his mate, and especially not the child, through something so harrowing without there being a very good reason.

         As the mist cleared he expected to hear a report from one of the probes. Instead he heard the program giving him information that upset him quite a bit.

         “There is not a vessel in site, and the probes have not reported back yet.” The program said in it's very flat tone.

         “Then why did you wake me?” demanded Jobadda tersely, very put out that he had been woken. He truly hoped it was for a good reason, it really wasn't a pleasant experience at all!

         “A reason for the difficulty connecting my current body with the new body may have presented itself.” Again the program, frustratingly to Jobadda, stopped.
“Enter new command program. You are to finish what you have to say to me when we are in these situations. Situations where you are telling me something and you haven't yet finished conveying your message. You are no longer to stop after each sentence. Am I clear?” Jobadda managed to say through gritted teeth.

         “There are to be no more pauses between messages I give you. A misunderstanding was not meant to happen. I will attempt to no longer allow that to happen. There is not a vessel in site, and the probes have not reported back yet. A reason for the difficulty connecting my current body with the new body may have presented itself. I believe I can solve the issue of the battleship's magnetic belt fighting the other belt by stopping power to the research vessel, but this is impossible because it contains life. It would not be wise either to shut down power to the battleship, because there is life on board. I need your orders on what to do. The other problem I found with my new half connecting to my current half, is that the systems are somewhat different and the Morig have control of...”

         “STOP!” Yelled Jobadda. “Cancel my last command.” He looked around the command deck of the research vessel for a place to sit. He collapsed onto one of the couches that made up the seating. Only one chair was placed and it was in the center of the back wall of the room, next to all of the controls on units seeming to grow out of the floor. “There is what on the battleship?” His skin tone took on a decidedly lighter shade than it usually had, accentuated by the gray pallor of the furniture.

         “Life.” Came the flat tone from the program, but Jobadda would have sworn that there was also an amused insolence in it as well.

         “What kind of life?” came the reply from Jobadda in a whisper.

         “There are the Finnissk, the Zerans, the Morig, the Zhobosh, the Orbil....” the program would have continued except for another sharp “STOP” yelled by Jobadda.

         “What are the difficulties you are having due to the presence of life?” asked a stunned exasperated Aoralan.

         “The Morig have control of my new half. I have integrated with the programming and have inserted my personality there. Though the systems are slightly different that part was relatively simple since the program is a more simplified version of myself, but the Morig have certain systems locked out manually. I cannot bypass it, and I cannot get them to communicate with me.” the program replied.

         The silence was palpable. The program expected a response immediately, but none was forthcoming, instead there was only silence. Jobadda rose from the couch and paced around the large room of the command center for several minutes, thinking. He gave up.
“I need to... ” Jobadda said as he breathlessly collapsed into the command chair. The command chair, which was also gray, was more of a formality as it had no real practical purpose with a sentient program running things, but it was always handy in case something happened to the program and manual control was necessary.

         It was a living space type setting, with the chair he was in kind of raised up from the floor slightly, with a step needed to get to it. The chair had a throne-like appearance to it. A very arrogant Aoralan design. It faced a large section of the wall that was made of a clear substance that was strong enough to withstand the pressure from space, but was still very clear and easily seen through.

         Jobadda knew from the records he had program copy before their departure, and he had the program copy everything, that there were other races, and he had even encountered a few while conducting research, but he had no personal knowledge of battleships, and it had not even occurred to him when he obtained the vessel, and took off with it, that it had life in it. Since they were obsolete, shouldn't they be empty? Aware that it ran somehow, he wasn't aware that it didn't just require a program in order to function. It had... a crew of sorts.

         “Morig?” he finally asked.

         “Yes.” came the program's reply.

         “Technicians...” said Jobadda.

         “Yes.” said the program.

         “They have control.” said Jobadda.

         “Yes, of some systems. I cannot gain control of the magnetic belt on the battleship to integrate power into this vessel so that I can shut this belt down in order to cease the conflict the two are having. I have incorporated and combined my programming with that of the battleship's. All that is required now is to initiate communication with the Morig and come to some kind of agreement. We need their cooperation.” said the program.

         Head in his hands, he stood up. Jobadda felt very dizzy. He felt like all of his carefully laid plans had suddenly reached up and bit him.

         “They can receive communications correct?” asked Jobadda.

         “Yes, they are able to receive, but they refuse to reply.” the program replied.

         “Then send this. 'Meet with me. I have taken this vessel, along with another, from Aorala. I am not going back. We are going to be together for a very long time. I do not want to fight you. I realize this is a battleship and that you are trained for war. We may fight at some point in the future, but it will not be a fight between the life on these two vessels. I do not wish to fight at all. My mate is pregnant with my child, and she is scared. Currently she is in stasis. I need to awaken her soon. I also have a small child with us. She was given into our care by the Aoralan Breeders. She could have been killed if we had left her there, because they would have considered her upbringing an aberration because she was raised by rebels, so I could not let her stay, I couldn't take that chance.

         This is what we are now. Rebels. We refused to abort the child that my mate is carrying, she wasn't supposed to become pregnant, babies just aren't born that way. Aoralan babies are grown. Artificially.

         Please help us. I am not used to begging. I have been an arrogant man my entire life. I allowed the program that is running these two vessels to come to sentience by sheer laziness. I did not wipe the memory of the crystal every time I came into port. I did not see the need. Now the program has integrated itself into the very fiber of this new vessel, for this is to be one vessel now. The battleship portion and the research portion are almost one, and the program is the vessel and the vessel is the program, it is irreversible. That by itself is enough to earn me death. Sentient vessels are not allowed.

         Our fleeing Aorala and stealing two ships also makes me a thief... So I am a lazy arrogant kidnapping thief. There is no return for me. So... I need us to work together, and help each other, for I can no longer continue to be the arrogant man that I was. We can work together and survive, or we can continue this useless resistance and eventually we will all die. That is all I have to say. I await your reply. My name is Jobadda.'” Jobadda stopped for a moment before continuing. His throat felt very tight, and he wasn't sure he would be able to get the words out, but his voice seemed to be functional, he was just very emotional, another state of being he was not entirely familiar with.

         “Please send message program.” Jobadda managed to say before he started feeling tears in his eyes.

         “Message sent. I will inform you when they respond.” replied the program in it's flat voice. Still though Jobadda could have sworn there was a tad bit of pity in the tone there as well. Maybe it was just implied, or he was imagining it. Something to worry over later, another thing to puzzle out. Right now he was tired.

         “I am going to sleep program, and I am not going into stasis. Please transmit that to the Morig. I do not want them to think I have changed my mind about a truce and communication. It is very important that they trust me... us... Sorry program, I keep forgetting that you also have a say in this. Without you program, we could not have accomplished any of this.” said Jobadda yawning, and then he was asleep.

         The program did not bother to respond. By they rhythm of her programmer's breathing, he was asleep. The program wasn't sure how long the man she viewed as her creator would sleep... but the program would wait. The program saw herself as female. Her creator was male. It was logical to the program, in a childish sort of way.

         He had accessed the language base where the languages of the other races were stored, and could now speak them. His creator would take longer to learn them and was not sure how to go about helping Jobadda to learn them faster. Faster was needed here.

         In his database that he had compiled over a period of centuries, and in that of what they had copied, there were schematics for different devices that could “install” a language fairly rapidly into a humanoid mind. There were different variations for different neural maps, but the idea was generally the same. He put together the design needed for his Aoralan creator and sent a copy to the Morig. Presumptuous... but if the Morig could set it up, he could “build” the pieces needed for the input device fairly quickly, and then the Morig would put the device and install it; All of this hinged, of course, on the Morig technicians being amenable to the suggestion that this be done, and his creator being open to actually doing it.

         Suddenly there was a rumble as all of the battleship's controls were available to the program. His preset instructions were, to shut down the magbelt surrounding the bottom of the research vessel when control of the battleship was obtained and the two vessels were locked. This was unexpectedly executed.

         A message came in from the Morig. If the Aoralan you are carrying is willing to give himself over to this neural device, then he truly must be humbled. This is a very invasive procedure and he would be extremely vulnerable. We have no further objections to you being here. We convened a meeting with the leaders of all the cities on board and we all agree. We are willing to try this new way of peace.

         The schematics for the neural device were a mix of the fluids from the battleship's “circulatory system” and stasis technology. Jobadda would be suspended in a chamber of fluid very similar to the fluids that circulated through the battleship to carry nutrients to all of the bio-tech systems, and circulated the waste out to be processed. The tendrils that the program needed to insert into Jobadda to encode his mind with the languages of the other races could spread through the fluid. The stasis portion of the design was to “suspend” Jobadda in the fluid and the tendrils would grow and infiltrate the skin and membranes at a microscopic rate toward the brain. This would happen in flashes of time, with the chamber in stasis during the process, except when growth was occurring. For Jobadda it would be as stasis always seemed, in and out in seconds, just with the fluid added. The process would actually take several days, maybe even a week.

         The program could run all of the biological processes of Jobadda while he was “under”. The tendrils would reach to the brain and every other organ and system of Jobadda's body. The program would make it seem to Jobadda that he was asleep, and any awareness of passing time would be erased from the mind when the language implantation process was complete. All processes would be handled by the program, including nutrition and waste removal. No wonder the other races believed that this symbolized the humbling of the Aoralan.

         When Jobadda awoke he was momentarily confused from the muddle of sleep, but when his mind cleared it all came rushing back.

         “Status please” he asked.

         “The vessels are joined. It is done.” said the program.

         “So that's it? They will join us?” asked Jobadda.

         “I negotiated with them. They will join us, but what I offered was proof of your word. I told them that you agreed to a process I have designed that will allow you to learn their languages in a matter of days.” said the program, and then he went on to explain it to his creator.

         Jobadda felt horror at what the program was describing, and every arrogant fiber of his being rose to the challenge.

         “What were you thinking?” shrieked Jobadda. Tendrils were going to go where?

         “The process is perfectly safe Jobadda. I assure you of this, and you will not even remember it happened. This was the price of their cooperation. I determined that it would take nothing less than something of this magnitude for them to believe what you had to say. If you rescind this offer that I have made to them... I believe that they will be very unhappy.” said the program admonishingly.

         It really wasn't his imagination, the program was developing tones to his voice responses. That was something to worry about later; for now he had to concentrate on current events.

         “Program, if I do this, and it looks as though I will have to, you can erase all memory of the experience?” asked Jobadda, feeling very embarrassed. He would be so exposed. “You will be the only one there, correct?” he also asked. He felt a bit ashamed as well. Humbling wasn't the term for this experience... but maybe the program was right, it was only something like this that would convince the other races that he was truly different from “regular” Aoralans.

         “They do not have access to this section of the ship. I will be the only one present, although I am actually present all over the ship, and not present at the same time, I do not have a body.” said the program.

         Swallowing his anger that suddenly welled up inside him, Jobadda asked how this was to take place.

         “The Morig have assembled the device. It is waiting right outside the new opening I have made from this section to the lower section directly under us. We can proceed when you are ready.” informed the program.

         As Jobadda followed directions through the new door, down a curving ramp, and into another chamber, he felt numb. Everything he wanted was happening, but nothing like how he imagined the events would take place.

         He arrived at the vat of liquid inside a structure that vaguely resembled a stasis pod. He removed all of his clothing and climbed into the fluid... and was out. His last thought this time was of his mate and their children. He would do this for them.

         The program now initiated the sequence that would infiltrate every part of his creator's body. He was very careful not to harm him. There were flashes as the stasis effect was stopped then started again after every spurt of growth from the tendrils. To the program, now a ship, it was very slow going, though in all actuality it only took a few hours. It was tedious work, but the ship had all the patience in the world.

         Once the process was complete, and everything was in place, he began the electrical impulse implantation of each language. With access to the brain of the Aoralan, and long thin stands encompassing each section, he realized what else he could do, and started doing it. He downloaded everything from his creator's brain as well. The program made copies of everything that Jobadda knew. None of the program's actions were meant maliciously, but he also didn't think that his creator would understand his actions either, so the brain scan was kept in a hidden file for later study.

         A week went by, then two weeks. It was taking longer than he had calculated. The program, now a ship, kept the other races updated on the progress of the language implantation, and apologized for the delay. Things were going well, just slowly. The other races were sympathetic, saying that it couldn't be easy to get past the proud, self-important, strutting barriers that made up an Aoralan mind. The ship was quietly amused, but didn't respond to these comments.

         Time dragged on for everyone else, but the Aoralan. Jobadda was lost to the sensations taking place all around his body. He couldn't breath, but was alive. He didn't think he could ever be hungry in this state either, for his stomach was full, or at least it felt full. The long thin tendrils could be felt up and down his arms and legs, throughout his torso, and inside his body. He should have been terrified, but wasn't. Then a voice filled his mind. Everything is all right. You are fine. I have induced your mind to release the chemicals that will calm you. I do not have the words for these chemicals yet, I have a lot to learn. You are safe though, my creator... I would never let any harm come to you. I am grateful to you for my existence.

         When the process is over, do you wish me to erase your memory of this? I can leave it if you like, or take it away. It is up to you.

         Jobadda thought about it. He was not afraid. He probably should be, but wasn't. He wasn't sure how he would feel about it later when he woke, but this was something to remember. Above all else he was curious. He was born into the field of research... and this was something new.

         Leave it. I will remember this. Thank you. Thought Jobadda back to the program, and the program complied.

         There is one thing I require. I no longer want to be called “program”. I am sentient. I think, and I feel. Since I have a body now, I am as much a being as you are. I wish to have a name. I am Quo' Din. Please use my name to refer to me from now on. This was said gently, but firmly.

         Even in his mollified state Jobadda was a bit stunned and slightly afraid. Quo' Din had him in a vat of fluid at her complete mercy; this newly developed intelligence had decided that it was to be female. Jobadda sensed that she was choosing to give life, not take it as her Aoralan counterparts had.

         I have told you that I will never hurt you. I won't let any harm come to you, not if I can in any way stop it. I will protect you and your offspring. Always, I will be there for you, not to serve you, but as your friend, to help you. This was given as a gentle reminder of his earlier words of comfort.

         Jobadda had spent centuries with this program, with it slowly coming to sentience under his accidental guidance, and despite the utter lack of any participation on his part, Quo' Din, seemed to have developed admirably.

         I have copied your mind, replicated it completely, but I will not incorporate it into my own unless you allow me to. I would like to permanantly make you part of my programming. Said Quo' Din mentally.

         This was the best compliment an entity such as she could pay another living being. It was close to being bonded. Jobadda understood that Quo' Din wanted to be close to him, and he also understood now that Quo' Din saw him as her creator. Oddly enough, it was a life form that wanted to be close to her “god”. That was a compliment, and one that he appreciated, but not one that he was prepared to see through. He didn't want to be “god”, and he was fond of Quo' Din, but not fond enough to bond with her. Sometimes a parent and child could exchange thoughts and feelings, it was not bonding, more a simple telepathy, but Jobadda didn't feel paternal toward Quo' Din either. He felt kind of bad, but all he could forsee was a friendship with his “creation”, not anything more.

         Ship, I cannot give you permission to incorporate myself into you, nor can I stop you, but I would ask you not to do it. All I can see in our future is friendship. Maybe someday there could be a deeper bond between us, but that time is not now. Replied Jobadda.

         The future called.