Deterministic
“Before we begin, we need to do some sorting,” Nai said. “If you already hold some psionic constructs, head to the strange looking alien over there.”
I raised my hand, giving a wave.
Only eight people made their way over to me. This wasn’t the first psionic workshop we’d done, and they all started the same way.
I had the seven Casti and one Farnata line up and let me examine exactly what tools their mind was carrying. Six of the Casti had only the standard intro-module. Two of them hadn’t even opened it out of fear.
Who could blame them?
Several thousand copies of my psionic tutorial flung into every corner of every star system with absolutely no explanation other than the contents of the module?
It was no wonder most people were too scared to explore something that just appeared in their mind one day.
The Beacon-Entity had relayed my creation almost identically. The only alteration was an edit to the module’s outermost shell. I’d engraved instructions to open it in Starspeak, but the Beacons had modified it to include an English phrase too.
It would keep any abductees who caught my intro-module from making the same mistake as these six Casti. Psionics had saved my life, and they’d hopefully saved a lot more already.
They weren’t without their risks though. At least, I was pretty sure.
After looking at hundreds of psionics-enabled people so far, I’d yet to see anything even remotely resembling what had occurred between me and Daniel. No one had lost their mind. No one had been ripped out of their own head.
Right now, I was the only data point suggesting psionics could be harmful at all.
Even Nai’s extended insomnia had come from lack of awareness rather than any actual inherent danger.
I waved the six Casti back to the main group before looking at my two remaining subjects. One Casti had not only opened and explored the tutorial, but even sported some new constructs not included in the intro-module.
The second remaining face was a Farnata, and the faint buzz I felt emanating from them marked them as Adept.
“…You two know each other,” I decided. “Coworkers?”
The Farnata shook her head.
“I work station security,” she said.
I looked at the Casti accusingly, with my hand still on her head.
“I work a shop in the promenade,” she said.
“You aren’t in trouble,” I sighed. “This isn’t a test. I’m looking at your mind’s constructs right now. You’re the only ones here with anything beyond the intro-module.”
“Alright, we’re friends,” the Casti said. “The stuff just plopped into my head one day, and Kez is the only Adept I know.”
“…She showed me the…module, and I copied it…Then I experimented some,” the Farnata, Kez, said. “But I stopped as soon as I heard about the rumors.”
She was older than Nai, I was guessing about Tiv’s age. It was odd. Both of these aliens were career adults, but they were nervously talking to a teenager like they’d been caught with their hands in the cookie jar.
“What rumors in particular?” I asked.
“That these ‘psionics’ were only meant for humans,” the Farnata said.
“…‘Meant for’ as in ‘designed for, and therefore unsafe for others’, or as in ‘only humans are allowed to have these’?” I asked.
“The latter,” the Casti said.
“I don’t suppose you could tell me more about who’s spreading that rumor?” I asked.
“Just gossip at my shop,” she said, clicking ‘no’.
“Yeah, figures,” I sighed. “Well, you don’t have to worry. Neither rumor is true.” I turned to the Farnata. “Honestly this is neat work you did. I’m surprised you managed to copy the intro module this closely, even the documents’ contents are intact. You might think about learning more so you can conduct psionic maintenance for the station.”
“Maintenance?” the Casti asked.
I glanced meaningfully at the Farnata to see if she understood what I meant.
“Psionics…are just like any other Adept creation,” she talked herself through it. “They decay.”
“They last longer the simpler they are, but it also comes down to the skill of who makes the construct too,” I said. “And your work is above average from what I’ve seen. The spatial processor is especially good. You’re the first one besides me to try making anything like it.”
“Oh. Thank you?” the Adept said.
She really had made some interesting stuff. In addition to a spatial processor, she’d also figured out how to modify the default telepathy transceiver. Aside from my fellow crew on the Jack, I’d only seen one other alien in this system sporting a non-default transceiver.
“Um…if we aren’t in trouble for any of this, can I ask a question?” the Casti asked.
I was still analyzing her friend’s psionics when she asked, but I could multitask. Probably.
“This is a seminar,” I said. “The whole point is to help people better understand exactly what psionics are.”
The Casti did not immediately ask her question however. She looked too nervous to be anything other than deferential right now.
“…That means yes, you can ask,” Kez said.
“Oh. Okay. I got the constructs in my brain first, but Kez seems like she has an easier time manipulating them. I get that you have to be Adept to create new ones, but why is it I have so much trouble…affecting what’s in my own mind?”
“Three reasons,” I said. “First; practice. Interacting with psionics is a skill. They haven’t been around that long, but they already come in a very wide variety of models and variants. Second, they, again, haven’t been around that long, so I think everyone is still in the early stages of learning. Third, is that life is unfair. Your friend is Adept and can intuitively create a tool in real time to help her interact with a construct. In order for anyone to manipulate a psionic construct in their own mind, you need either extensive practice or a tool to help cover the lack thereof. The intro-module is basically two such tools, a storage method, some documents to go in storage, and then some very plain games to teach some of the basics. If you’re having trouble manipulating your psionics, go back to the starter tools and practice with them.”
“The lens and the dulkanga?” the Casti asked.
“The…what?”
“Oh. Oh!” the Farnata said. “I remember…the dictionary in the module, you didn’t have a word for this!”
“What is a ‘dulkanga’?” I asked.
“It’s a Casti handling prosthesis for when they want to do precise hand work,” Kez explained. “They’re ancient. Casti wear them like a glove, and they’ve got short little sticks on the fingertips.”
“Makes sense,” I said. “I designed the tools to be interpretable. They’ll take different forms in each person’s mind based on what people recognize about their functions. One is for perception, the other is for, well, exactly what you said: handling.”
“Will practicing make me able to manipulate constructs without the tool?” the Casti asked.
“…Honestly? I don’t know,” I said. “I’m Adept. When I manipulated a construct, I can constantly create new tiny single-function tools to make any small adjustment I need…huh. Tell you what…”
“Tell us…what?” Kez began to ask, but Tasser arrived quickly.
I hadn’t gotten the Casti’s name, and I flubbed.
“Y-you ask…this is Tasser,” I said. “He’s the most experienced Casti alive when it comes to psionics, ask him whatever you want.”
Turning to the Farnata, I said, “I’m finished looking at your psionics. They’re all safe. Nothing alarming, but do be aware that this is all uncharted territory. Nobody knows for sure how risky any of this is. That said? I’m pretty confident it’s not feasible to create anything like a mental plague. But…you know, don’t try to either.”
With that I left Tasser to answer any more questions they had, and I made my way back over to Nai, Serral and the much larger novice group.
Milling about our hangar, no fewer than fifty Casti wearing white and red Organic Authority badges on their hips. Crazier still they were still outnumbered. Not in uniform were almost a hundred more Casti plus a handful of Farnata all from transport unions.
In the day-and-a-half that the Geslyon union was delayed, we’d picked up a small group from another transport union and few more miscellaneous people. Interestingly, I didn’t see any dedicated group representing the colony governance.
Well, someone was going to make a killing sharing psionics with them once we were gone.
Previous workshops had been limited by my ability to evaluate those who already sported psionics. Because I was one of just two Adepts, our ability to make new intro-modules was limited.
It was easily solved by just stocking up beforehand—though even that had some issues. Nora’s breakthrough trick of psionically interactable materials made it pretty easy to prep a few hundred modules loaded onto unremarkable shards of metal. That didn’t solve our entire problem. It was possible for non-Adepts to pull constructs embedded into matter, but being able to cascade the container made it a lot more reliable. Moreso, something about being Adept made it easier to push the module into a recipient’s mind.
Once I was done with the risk checks, the pace of the event sped up and within two hours everyone attending our seminar had the intro-module opened.
All said, I was getting better at teaching psionics. Really, it was a team effort.
With every group we talked to, each one of our crew grew quicker to respond to questions. Patterns were emerging, certain concepts and constructs were proving consistently more difficult to grasp than others.
The telepathy transceivers? Almost everyone took well to them.
Psionic journaling, pages, and word processing? Significantly more problems.
One Casti in particular was bristling at the topic.
We’d broken into a number of smaller groups, and one of mine was proving belligerent at my explanation.
“See, I’m not actually ‘writing’ anything on the page,” I said, conjuring a sheet of paper with some simple writing. “It’s already written in the psionic form. When I materialize a sheet and it’s writing, I’m just materializing the construct without any regard for the information on it.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. How is the consistency maintained if you have no regard for it?”
Was I just using too figurative language? I wasn’t sure I could describe psionics without metaphors.
“The consistency comes from the initial recording,” I said. “Conventional audio recordings store data by physically changing some medium according to a pattern that can be deciphered later. Psionics does the same thing, just without any material medium. Or, at least the material isn’t like anything else in the cosmos except consciousness.”
“Souls have no material,” the Casti protested.
“I don’t think psionics get that involved,” I said.
Except there was a reason I was still doing risk checks on anyone I could find who’d caught one of the Beacon-distributed intro-modules.
“How…can there possibly be something that interacts directly with consciousness?”
“We have no idea,” I said.
“Well that’s stupid,” the Casti said. Without even missing a beat. “Why haven’t you tried figuring it out?”
Excuse me?
The words went through my brain, but I was too stunned by the gall to voice them.
“Pardon me if I go too far saying this,” the Casti said. “But it seems like the lot of you are too cavalier about these things which could have dreadful geshuti implications.”
I frowned. I didn’t recognize the word.
I wasn’t afraid to admit ignorance, but I wasn’t eager to show it off either.
<‘Spiritual’,> Fenno replied.
“Maybe you’re encroaching on something that isn’t meant for us,” the Casti accused.
Not so deferential, this one…
“I don’t follow your implication,” I said bluntly. Not wholly untrue.
“…I think there are some serious ethical implications you’ve failed to consider,” he said.
But then he didn’t say more.
“…Well don’t be shy,” I said. “Let’s hear them.”
“I’m not inclined to share if the only response I’ll hear is ridicule.”
“Relax. You might be rude,” I said, “but that’s not going to stop me from hearing a new opinion on psionics.”
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The Casti glanced around our discussion circle. Everyone else in our ring of chairs was content to let this play out.
“I think psionics shouldn’t be shared,” he said. “If they really do impossibly touch one’s very soul, then it should be an immense responsibility reserved for only the most fastidious of souls, dedicated to understanding the cosmos and people’s place in that grand design.”
“Well that’s—” I started, only to bite off the response. Sarcasm would not be helpful here. “—a lot to take in. Give me a moment to make sure I interpreted what you said correctly…”
“I suppose it’s just a coincidence that you are such an enlightened soul?” someone interjected.
“On the contrary, I looked over what our gracious hosts shared with us and decided I wasn’t remotely qualified to wrestle with that responsibility. I…how did you put it, Junior Hane? I expelled the module.”
Setting aside my irritation at being referred to as ‘junior’, I found he really had tossed the intro-module out of his mind.
“In my experience,” Fenno said as she arrived, “it’s fine to make decisions like that for yourself, but it doesn’t sound like you’re ambivalent about what others ought do.”
“I’m not,” the Casti said. “I don’t think I should wield psionics, but I do think people ought follow my example.”
“Not because it’s yours, but because it’s right,” I confirmed.
The Casti turned his attention back to me.
“That’s correct.”
Fenno gave a psionic click in the positive.
“I’ll be blunt,” I said. “You can’t stop anyone from using or sharing psionics as they see fit. I have absolutely no background to say whether or not they’re compatible with your spiritual principles, but you can’t expect people who aren’t your religion to abide by its principles for no reason.”
“Nor would I,” the Casti said, turning to Fenno. “Tell me, do you believe psionics to at least be connected to your soul somehow?”
“…Yes,” she admitted.
I could follow where he was heading argumentatively. We might not have covered the philosophy, but we’d at the very least talked about the biological implications of psionics.
“They’re connected to something immaterial because to the best of our ability, they’re not connected to anything else,” I said. “But that’s not unique of psionics. It’s true of consciousness itself too. Because it’s not very easy to experiment if consciousness is a wholly material, physical phenomenon.”
“People cannot choose to be endowed with sapience,” the Casti said. “We can choose to forgo psionics. It would be grossly irresponsible, perhaps even blasphemous, to so recklessly dabble in souls.”
“…I’m going to try to be patient with you,” I said. “But fair warning, I spent nine months under threat of death from another alien who was melodramatic about the prospects of psionics, and I’ve no intention of putting myself through that again.”
“I don’t think I’m being melodramatic,” the Casti said. “Psionics are capable of touching minds, and the implications of that are immense.”
“…No,” I said. “They would be, if psionics truly touched minds. But I…have no evidence to suggest that’s true.”
“They’re operated by our very thoughts,” the Casti said. “How is that not—”
“Our minds touch psionics,” I said easily. “But there’s virtually no evidence of the reverse being true. As far as I can tell, the only thing psionics can do to our consciousness is impart information. It’s no more sacrilegious than reading a book.”
Not the best example considering some of Earth’s religions, but I hadn’t heard of anything like that in Casti society. And apparently neither had my debate opponent.
“You don’t believe that feeding information directly into someone’s mind constitutes affecting the soul?” he asked in disbelief.
“Sure it does,” I said. “Words can cut people to the bone, but that’s true whether they’re spoken
What was I thinking? The Casti had done away with his module. He wouldn’t hear the psionic emphasis I put on my point.
…Except everyone else in the circle had. Discussion wasn’t always about convincing your opponent. Sometimes it was about convincing onlookers instead.
“I was careful when I first named psionics,” I continued. “They’re mysterious, and abstract, and—you’re right—even a responsibility. But they’re not sacred. They’re tools. Just machines we’ve figured out how to build out of…something we don’t understand yet. It’s just a new material we’re still learning the rules for.”
The expressions of the other Casti in our discussion circle reassured me, but a proud part of my brain was still irked that my opponent didn’t seem convinced.
But before I could put my foot in my mouth, Fenno gave me an assist.
“You’re Fiansisi, yes?” she asked.
He clicked ‘yes’.
“Then I imagine you’re thinking about the Third Edict with this concern?”
“Align yourselves to your humblest arcs,” he quoted. “Dare not to snatch divinity, for it is the original thing which can only be given—never taken.”
Third Edict. Something conceptually similar to the Ten Commandments?
“I am the Lord your God,” I quoted back, “thou shalt have no other Gods before me.”
Translating scripture into Starspeak wasn’t something I thought I’d be doing today, but here we were.
“We have a similar idea,” I said. “Except the Fiansisi seems to be focused on accepting what’s given to us and shared, yes?”
“Rather than attempting to steal what God has kept out of our reach,” the Casti nodded.
This seemed like the Casti equivalent of warnings not to play God. Of course, on Earth most of those warnings came from stories about cloning, or unraveling the secrets of life itself and manipulating the very building blocks of human organisms.
So I found it more than a little ironic that the Casti had gone and engineered sapient lifeforms without realizing and used them for computers.
“But psionics are within our reach,” Fenno pointed out, “and not beyond our capability to use responsibly, I might add.”
“I do not disagree,” he said. “But you should be guarding them jealously, and finding people worthy to be trusted with them rather than…well, all of us.”
“They let too much good be done to hoard them,” Fenno said.
“And what about the bad? How long will it be before someone’s murder is facilitated by psionics and goes unsolved.”
“Not sooner than the first life saved,” I said simply.
“…All I know is that when the first Casti discovered firearms technology, they entrusted it to ascetics. And for hundreds of years no Casti was murdered with a gun. But when seals were lifted and the public held those weapons, suddenly our next war was the bloodiest in our history.”
“Casti misused the gifts the First, Last, and Only bestowed upon us before,” the Casti belligerent said. “I realize none shall agree with me, but I could not be silent while I see people making the same mistake again.”
“I appreciate your intentions,” I said, “but I don’t think psionics were ‘bestowed’. I invented them. Or…discovered them. Take your pick really. And I appreciate why someone might say ‘discovering’ them would be contingent on God nudging them into my path, but if that’s possible, then surely the reverse must be possible too. Fine, maybe some things happen for a reason, but I really doubt everything happens for a reason. So, sometimes what we’re supposed to do is make the best of whatever coincidence we stumble upon. Sometimes you get abducted for no discernable reason into the depths of outer space, the void, and you have to work to keep yourself a basically stable, functioning, and reasonable human. Other times you accidentally invent an abstract thing which stands to change the fabric of multiple alien societies forever and you have to embrace the responsibility of helping other people figure out what it’s good for and how best to use it…does…does that all make sense?”
“I…also appreciate your intentions,” the Casti said. “Though I do find it conspicuous that you earlier said ‘virtually’ no evidence earlier.”
“I, and I alone have an anecdote which could imply otherwise,” I admitted. “But it was temporary, and I was suffering from blood loss, oxygen deprivation, and a number of other complicating psychological factors which all seem much more likely culprits. We’ve experimented aggressively and to date have produced nothing even close to resembling what I went experienced.”
That was total crap.
Fenno wouldn’t know it. This Casti wouldn’t know it.
But I didn’t believe for a second what happened to Daniel was unrelated to psionics. He’d helped me build half the constructs in my head. For Pete’s sake, my very own superconnector had gobbled him right up, whatever form of ‘him’ had made it to my brain…
But I did believe it wasn’t reproducible. At least not in any relevant capacity, certainly not enough to warrant not sharing psionics.
“This discussion might be nearing the end of its productiveness,” Fenno warned. “Frankly Senior, Caleb Hane isn’t familiar enough to debate religious doctrine with you. It would be impossible to continue without slowing things down to explain minutiae every minute.”
“…Fine, but please do not shrug off what I’ve said today, Junior Hane,” he said.
“I promise I won’t,” I said, “but I expect you to do the same.”
He gave me an affirmative click before wandering toward another group, hopefully not to try and make his pitch again.
The rest of our discussion group finally decided they were comfortable talking and asking questions again. Teaching, explaining, and demonstrating more elaborate constructs was a welcome reprieve from talking philosophy.
I liked discussions like that, but in front of an audience? I’d be unravelling the knots tied in my gut for days.
Not to mention how unexpected it had been. That Casti wasn’t from the Org or one of the transport unions. He’d heard of our seminar and come alone by the looks of things.
<…I didn’t get his name,> I noted to Fenno.
I was irritated by him. It wasn’t easy telling why.
I wasn’t sure how strongly I identified with my parents Christianity, and I’d been at least exposed to other religions enough that I didn’t think his doctrine was what bothered me.
Worse, I’d cooled off about his attitude. He’d been unusually straightforward and rude for a Casti, but after coming to know Tasser so well, I preferred that.
No, what bothered me was that he was right about one thing: the implications of psionics were immense.
I could discuss how to keep a psionic journal, run a calculator with my mind, or maintain a mental radar all day long, and none of that would compare to the real questions psionics might be capable of answering.
So far it seemed like psionics operated under many of the same rules Adeptry did; everything was strictly addition. You couldn’t reach into someone’s mind directly with psionics. Psionics could affect other psionics, but when it came to the minds behind them…ignoring what happened to Daniel, One mind couldn’t affect another with psionics.
But what was possible…was a mind affecting itself with psionics. That was the basis for the superconnector, really. One mind willfully connecting itself to a psionic channel, at the other end of which was another cooperating mind.
What did that imply about people? About souls? Did this prove free will existed? Or that it didn’t? Neither?
The most intense philosophical conversation I’d ever participated in came when my dad had asked me if consciousness could be explained and reproduced using only atoms. Was the entirety of the universe, including all living, thinking beings, deterministic?
I’d mostly pouted about not understanding the question then. But that had been years before I was abducted, and even back on Earth I’d boned up on my critical thinking skills, read more complex ideas. Heard of things like Laplace’s Demon or the Veil of Ignorance.
The reason I was frustrated with this Casti was that I knew now more than ever that this wouldn’t be the last time I heard questions like this. God, I felt like such a child whining about what I’d achieved.
Poor me, making something revolutionary, but being totally unqualified to answer the philosophical questions that would inevitably be posed to me anyway.
Unless I willfully avoided them, I’d be fielding questions like today’s for the rest of my life, and I still didn’t know how to answer them.
No one did. Not for sure.
Worse, I knew a lot better now just how difficult those questions would continue to be. I wasn’t sure what scared me more, that psionics would let someone find out, or that they wouldn’t.
I told Fenno.
<…Maybe I would,> I thought.
I admitted.
<…I feel bad that I keep forgetting you’re so old,> I said.
<[Oh shit,] uhhh…no…not more disrespectful than that, but…gah, I don’t know.>
Competent at my duties…
That had been my opponent’s point, hadn’t it?
He seemed pretty sure I wasn’t. I wasn’t sure at all.
Maybe that was a bigger problem. What exactly was my responsibility? About psionics, other abductees, all of it?
This must have been the kind of thing going through Nora’s head when she decided to try dragging me away from the Coalition. Wasn’t that just a perfectly infuriating thought? I didn’t want to empathize with the position of someone who backstabbed me, tried hijacking my body, and re-abducting me.
Not for the first time I cursed how unfair it was to be abducted by aliens. They say misery loves company, but knowing it happened to five-thousand other people didn’t make the odds any less upsetting.
I wish someone else had been abducted instead of me. I had to fight the pang of guilt that immediately went through me. It was not wrong to not want to be abducted.
If any of my thought process showed on my face while we discussed psionics, only a few Casti would know my facial expressions well enough to recognize my mood.
Tasser was one though. The first.
Once the workshop was winding down, I made sure to find him. I was in my own head again, and I needed some positivity before tomorrow.
With our Adept contract fulfilled, and the psionic seminar behind us, only one of our objectives remained.