..[ MATIVO ]..
I could count on one hand the number of times the full Bridge contingent had been at the Bridge since the expedition started. With the advancement in AI technology, it became less and less necessary to have human input for the well running of the ship. The course of the main ship was already predetermined, and any new information gathered was input to the ship’s main computer. Then the AI would make adjustments as it deemed fit. We, that being me and the navigation team, periodically reviewed the adjustments the AI made to ensure that everything was fine, and it wasn’t leading us into our demise inside a star or blackhole. I say we but it was mostly the navigation team. I attended some of those reviews every once in a while. Otherwise, I left everything in their capable hands.
With the number of shuttles and how frequent and long the explorations were, it had become common to find only two or three people on the Bridge. Of the expected six. The consoles were still there, just in case it ever happened that every bridge member was required at their stations on the Bridge. But on a few occasions, it happened that we all found ourselves there. However rare those were.
There had been one or two changes to the Bridge though. The overall layout was still the same, but the stations had different functions. Some of them. The Helms was still up front and center, and alone; the Command platform still were it had been on Robin, with the Command and Second’s seats. To the right were Engineering and Communication, and on the left Navigation and Security. In terms of personnel, the only change had been Xhalo as the Chief Security Officer, replacing Kalũki. With her new role as Chief Operations Officer, she had a whole lot of things to oversee she had needed a whole office of her own. She still visited the Bridge when she had the time; at least that’s what the others said, I had never met her there.
“Wow, you finally appear again,” Chantel said as I took my seat at the Command platform.
“We saw each other yesterday,” I reminded her but she didn’t seem to care at all.
“What does this make? The fourth time?” Mũsango asked from her Helms seat.
She wasn’t controlling the ship; the number of shuttle trips and races she had piloted served her dose of piloting needs. She still did, occasionally. And participated in the shuttle races, all of them. Both big and small. As popular as the shuttle races were, the Tag Team Wars was still the most watched competition on the ship. With the current advancements in medical and simulation technology, it was always akin to watching an actual battle happening. There were so many teams that it had been divided into three leagues. They still made it work even with some members being away for Months at a time.
“Fifth time,” Cindy, next to me, said.
I turned to her in offense, “I have been to the Bridge more than ten times since the expedition began.”
“We are talking about the number of times the Bridge has seen all of us together,” Mũsango clarified.
“Oh, I see.”
“Where have you been anyway? Cause I know it’s not exploring.” Pon asked while still busy tapping away on his console.
“I’ve been busy.” I replied non-committedly.
“Avoiding people?” Cindy asked, with a mischievous grin which I obviously ignored.
“I interact with people enough.”
“How long before we meet intelligent species?” Mũsango asked, thankfully changing the topic.
“All species with a brain can be called intelligent,” Matt said. He had been silent since I entered the Bridge; I assumed he was possibly analyzing the new cartography data that had been brought back by the returning shuttles.
“You know what he meant.” Chantel said, clearly irritated by Matt’s answer.
“I wonder what the first intelligent species we meet will be; amphibian, avian, mammalian or reptilian,” Pon said. He had finished what he had doing at his console, finally turning to face the rest of the Bridge.
“You forgot fish,” Chantel pointed out.
“I don’t want to meet any aquatic intelligent species,” Pon quickly exclaimed.
“Why? Mermaids and Sirens are supposed to be alluring and beautiful,” Mũsango said, shooting a wink at Pon.
“And in most of those stories, they end up eating the one who falls for their charms.”
“Yeah!”
“Not that kind of eating, scatterbrain!” Pon was visibly blushing at Mũsango’s insinuations.
“With the way things are looking, I for one, am not looking forward to our first intelligent contact,” Xhalo said. Totally on brand for him, being Chief Security officer and all.
“You never know. They might welcome us with open arms,” Chantel said.
“You don’t honestly believe that.”
“I like to keep an open mind.”
“I like to be prepared for the worst,” Xhalo countered.
“I think most of us are ready for the worst the universe could throw at us,” Mũsango said.
“I don’t think so,” Matt said. “What if we meet a civilization like the one we left back on Earth? And they also happen to be completely unfriendly.”
“What idiot would attack a space faring species, when they themselves were not?” Chantel asked.
“Just because a species has become intelligent doesn’t mean the idiot part stops to exist,” Matt argued. “It is still there, and it only takes a little provocation for it to rear its ugly head.”
“I’m with Matt on this. Remember the Europa incident,” Mũsango said.
“I don’t see why you are so worried. We have diplomats for situations such as those,” Cindy said. Which was a good thing, because everyone on the Bridge had absolutely failed on the diplomat test.
“And how long will it take before they can come to an understanding? A lot could happen,” Xhalo said.
“Yeah, it would take a while to get over the language barrier first,” Mũsango added.
“We have lots of linguists for that,” Cindy argued.
“And none of them have ever seen an alien language.”
“I say we go in guns blazing. That is a language every living thing understands,” Chantel said, promptly silencing the Bridge.
Xhalo was the first to recover from that, “And how many would we have to kill before they surrender?”
“As many as it takes.”
“It could be billions,” Pon pointed out.
“They could throw nuclear weapons at us if they think they have no chance of winning,” Xhalo said.
“First of all, we are fast enough to evade a chemical rocket. Besides, I think Canary can survive being bombarded by nuclear bombs.” Mũsango said. I didn’t think she was on Chantel’s side, but she argued for the ship itself. It really could survive nuclear bombardment.
And the debate on how to conduct first contact continued. There was the already agreed on procedure, but like a famous person, whom I don’t remember, once said, ‘no strategy survives first contact’. I think it was a whole lot different than that, but it’s the message that matters.
..[ KAMORT ]..
The hybrids were growing healthily. As the years wore on, their different personalities were becoming more and more apparent to see. Displays of aggression and dominant behaviors were also present; as to be expected when kids were introduced to social situations with other kids of their own age.
Kamort had been nervous the first few Years. Just because the hybrids back on Ũsumbĩ were all doing well, didn’t mean their brood would fare the same. It was the hybrids he was involved with and he believed that he had every right to be anxious with their development. They could get unlucky and have one of the hybrids start munching on another. It was always a healthy possibility, until the first hybrids achieved full maturity and they underwent full psychological analysis. They had been lucky so far.
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At five Years old, the whole brood seemed healthy enough. No hunter tendencies had showed themselves. They had shown no aversion to either meat or vegetarian diets. That was to be expected, for the most part, their digestive tract was similar to that of humans. And even for humans, vegetarians were something of a minority.
No food allergies had been seen, and they had been thoroughly tested. It would have been disappointing to have a genetically engineered organism have food allergies. Or any allergies of any kind really. What would be the point of all that engineering if they ended up with the same issues most humans had?
Aside from being researchers, all scientists involved also collected data on the physical, mental and emotional wellbeing of the children. After all, the hybrids would remain scientific subjects for Decades. And so too would any offspring they happened to have. They had been made to be reproductively compatible with humans and each other, but that was still waiting to be seen. On paper they were, but no one ever knew. The children of such couplings might not be able to survive to term.
He was currently talking to one of the caretakers, and he couldn’t for the life of him remember her name. He really needed to do a better job in that department. Her children on the other hand, were with other scientists.
“She is really smart that one, way ahead of her siblings in intellectual and emotional maturity,” she was talking about one of her daughters, Mondhe to be exact.
She had four of them, and five boys. Unlike the caretakers, he knew every name of all the hybrids. And she wasn’t lying, Mondhe had shown a degree of intellectual maturity at the age of three comparable to that of five-Year olds. But she wasn’t the smartest, far from it. There where geniuses among the children, true intellectual monsters. At ten, they could be smarter than the average PhD students. Could, not will.
“She doesn’t really like playing with other kids though,” she continued, before leaning forward on the desk. “Do you think she is shy? I’ve heard the smart ones are always shy.”
“Kids at this age are just beginning to understand how to interact with other kids. Intellectual and emotional maturity doesn’t always translate to social maturity,” he told her. “It usually leaves them disappointed that they can’t figure out how to go about it. Help her a little.”
“I always involve her in group activities with other kids. I’ve even sought out the other smart kids for her to interact with. But she always finds a way to escape from them.”
“But do you actually help her on how to interact with the other kids?” he asked her.
“What do you mean?” she asked, the confusion clear on her face as she settled back on her chair. He hadn’t thought that the issue would arise from the caretakers. The assumption that placing kids with other kids was always the right thing to do really hurt kids, especially those socially behind their peers.
“Placing her in group activities will do nothing if she doesn’t know how to perform in those groups. You need to teach her how to interact with other kids.
“For some kids, it might come naturally. Others need a guiding hand.”
It had been more than half an hour of talking about the kids with her. Her kids were fine based on what she had told him. He would confer with the scientists who had talked with the kids themselves before writing up the final report. She hadn’t had any issues so far, and he didn’t think any would arise from the visit. They spent the rest of the hour talking about ways she could help Mondhe develop her social skills. He also reminded her that it was possible that the social skills were there; Mondhe was just plain not interested in interacting with other kids.
..[ MATIVO ]..
Fifteen minutes. Something must have been wrong. The last time I came to watch them, it had taken her less than three minutes. I didn’t think I had gotten that better at hiding from her.
I had been starting to worry that she wouldn’t come, but I wasn’t ready to admit that I had gotten used to her silent company. It had started during the first Year, her coming to keep me company when I visited the Hybrids Deck. There was the communal area where the kids were allowed to loiter and play, before and after their visitations with the scientists.
Either I subconsciously made myself visit only when she was there, or she came to every scheduled visitation, highly unlikely considering her age. Or it was just plain coincidence, a very long unbroken streak of coincidences. Ever since that first time, she had, without fail, found me every time I visited.
Mostly we spend the entire time doing nothing. Not even talking. We would either stand or sit, and every time I moved, she would move with me. I had tried talking to her, but she only ever responded with nods or shakes of her head. And only when she felt like it. Some of my statements, and questions, were met with a judging look. Yes, I was being judged by a toddler. Well, she wasn’t a toddler anymore. At least, she had given me her name; Mondhe. It had taken a while to learn the proper pronunciation though.
Her refusal to fully communicate with me meant that I only knew two things for a fact about her: she was a female, called Mondhe. I also knew that all the children had started school by now. When I had asked her if she had started school, I had received one of her judgy looks. She also always left before her caretaker came looking for her. How she knew when to leave, I have no idea. Maybe she saw her looking for her. But I had kept watch for that and I never saw her caretaker looking for her when she left.
As I watched her approach me, I noticed that she looked freer than usual. More relaxed. The way she walked, the way she carried herself. They were all completely different. She had been stiff and downcast before, always throwing pitiful glazes around her. As if she expected to be attacked at any moment. That was all gone, replaced by a head held high with a confident look and the graceful walk of the cat she was. At least, for a child her age. Maybe it was the change in clothing, from bright colored dresses to dark colored pants and a baggy shirt. Her tail was slowly swaying left and right behind her. Which had me wondering exactly where the tail began. And I knew I couldn’t ask. Or check.
“You are losing touch,” I told her as she joined me on the bench. All I got was a small smile before she went on to watching the rest of the kids as they ran around the communal area.
“Why don’t you like playing with the other kids?” I asked after a few minutes of silence. The fifteen-minute wait had made me a little too chatty.
“Too childish.”
I stared at her, she couldn’t have possibly said that. For two reasons: one, it was the first time she had said anything to me other than the time she gave me her name. Two, “And how old are you?”
And there it was. I knew it was coming long before I finished that question. But there was no way I wasn’t going to ask it. She had to be five six years old. Maybe four? How exactly had I forgotten when these kids had been born? I really was a failure as a manager. Creating the hybrids had been one of my most treasured projects as far back as I could remember. It had been delayed for a while, waiting on Mutave’s artificial womb to be perfected. So, I should have been remembering every milestone accomplished throughout the project. At least for the first few decades.
“You know, I just spend more than three hours on the Bridge with the other Bridge offices passing the time.” And there I was being chatty again. I was having trouble keeping my mouth shut, unlike before. And I still blamed the fifteen-minute wait I had had to go through. Especially with her not offering any explanation for her tardiness.
“I didn’t talk much then. They talked all the time amongst themselves, and I was just there listening. How the tables have turned. And then there was last Week in the simulation room. I nearly died fighting the opponents Jacy had set for me. I swear she was trying to get me killed.”
“You fight?” she asked before I could continue my rant on how I had spent my time since the last time we had met. Seriously, it was as if someone had imprinted on someone. And for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out who had imprinted on whom.
“Mhm.”
“I fight too,” she said proudly.
“Is that so?” I was gleeful on the inside as I tried to maintain a calm and collected exterior. Not only had she answered my question, she had asked one of her own. “I do other things too. I’m working on a research project that could see people doing things akin to magic. I study too.” I added the last part as an afterthought.
“Studying is hard,” she said, dropping her head a little. Even her tail stopped the dancing it had been doing.
“Tell me about it.” And I completely agreed with her. My sister, Mutethya, once accused me of talking to kids as if I were talking to an adult. She said that most of the things I told them, they had no way of understanding. Maybe I did so because kids were less likely to judge me for the things I said compared to adults. But so far, Mondhe seemed to be keeping up with me where it really mattered.
We settled down to a companionable silence. I was glad that the chattiness had finally passed. We went back to watching the other kids be kids. One of the main reasons I had started up the project on the hybrids was due to the failed human trials with the nanobots.
My personal scientists all agreed that the normal human body was in capable of withstanding the toll the nanobots put on it. They had however, failed to come up with an explanation as to why I seemed okay after using the nanobots for so long. So, we had studied my genetic makeup analyzing how every gene affected the working of my body. We finally managed to narrow it down to a few candidates, and those had been activated in the hybrids in varying configurations. It was guaranteed that some of the hybrids would not be able to pay the toll the nanobots demanded. It was a sad truth, but a truth nonetheless. I found myself wondering what it would feel like if Mondhe turned out to be one of those hybrids.
Jacy was planning to have an iteration of an earlier version of the nanobots I had. One made to work with her bioaugments. She had wanted to go with the current version I had, but Dominic and Mbithe had been strongly against that. Apparently, merely activating them would flay her open. She was just genetically unlucky in that regard; being on the other end of the compatibility spectrum.
Her surgery was scheduled to be in three Days, and then she would have three Months to get used to the chip, nanobots and bioaugments before her next exploration mission. We would also start releasing bits of our research then. Not to the public, but to the scientists who would be working with the hybrids when they reached ten Years of age. Those on Ũsumbĩ were three Years away from starting the experiments. Only the gene configurations that could take the nanobots’ toll would continue to be produced, the others would be discontinued.
“Mativo.” Her saying my name gave me enough of a jolt to end my train of thought and bring me back to the present. When she saw that she had my attention, she continued, “What am I?”
I had never ever thought I would be asked that question. I always thought the caretakers would field them. I knew what she was asking, and she knew I knew. Any half-assed answer was out of the question. I didn’t think hybrid was the correct answer either. And I was drawing a blank on what the caretakers were supposed to answer to that kind of question. I really should have studied that guide book more. Or maybe I shouldn’t have been visiting the Hybrids Deck at all.
“Hybrid.” I settled on the easy answer. It was hard to tell with her face still in the clutches of baby fur, but she still got a confused look on her face. “Do you know what that is?”
“A little.” It sounded more like a question than a statement. “Of what?”
“Human and cheetah.” I wasn’t sure that I should be answering her questions. Maybe her caretaker would feel slighted; it was common. Guardians liked be the first to know or tell something to their wards. It felt like one of those.
“The fastest land animal.” That one was most definitely a statement, and I didn’t think she wanted me agreeing with her meaninglessly.
“Shouldn’t you be asking your caretaker this questions?” I didn’t get an answer for that, or a judgmental look. But I also knew I had cut short any more questions she had. I did feel a little bad about it. But only a tiny bit.