“Sam, it absolutely has to be reversible. If electrons can just randomly decay into magic like that, this universe should have run out of electrons by now. You must have the ability to create new ones from magic.” Margaret was arguing her case from her Virtual Villain’s Lair, as I’d taken to calling it. She had a window open so I could see her on the edge of my vision no matter where I looked. It was distracting to say the least.

  The Virtual Villain’s Lair was a virtual world in the Shipnet setup for science and surveillance. It resembled a typical mad scientist’s volcano lair, crammed with all sorts of random assorted science stuff, more computer screens than seemed healthy, an impressive number of Tesla coils, bubbling vials of unknown chemicals, and laser shark tanks. Margaret’s avatar had white spiky hair and a lab coat, of course, and she was pointing at some math gibberish on a nearby whiteboard.

  “Creating electrons out of nothing violates the first law of thermodynamics,” I argued.

  “Sam, the laws of thermodynamics hold no sway here. Search your feelings, you know it to be true.” Margaret said in a Darth Vader voice.

  “I suppose you’re right,” I replied with a sigh, briefly resting my forehead against the steering wheel. I was currently driving a tractor to tow a cart full of recently quarried rocks. I could have set the tractor to autopilot and just listened to Margaret’s wild theories, but I found it strangely entertaining to manually drive the large machine. I didn’t really want to figure out new tricks with my magic, I was already nervous about what I could already do. What need was there for me to do more than just the tech field, I wondered.

  I’d much rather do something real, something meaningful, like what I was doing now. I was flanked by a team of repair bots armed with pickaxes who marched alongside me. We were on our way back to the ship from a quarry site we’d found, The quarry had decent quality rocks perfect for Jim’s ship support project. We planned to pile the rocks around the ship’s base to form a mound, then turn it into a crude stone wall with sand and a water-resistant binding agent. But I guess, if Margaret was so determined to put this much effort into my magic, I sort of owed it to her to try.

  I put the tractor on autopilot and focused my attention on the window where Margaret was waiting impatiently. “That doesn’t mean I have that ability, Margaret. I have no clue how to create electrons out of thin air. All I can do is order them around, tell them where to go, and not to decay. I’m an electron manipulator, not an electron creator. Don’t assume I have multiple power sets like that.”

  “You already have three different powers, Sam! Not just two.” Margaret argued.

  “What do you mean?

  “The reason I was so certain you yanked the ship upright was because the fusion reactors showed a massive power drain right as the nozzle got magnetized. That energy couldn’t have just disappeared, you used it to make the nozzle into an electromagnet. What you did with that pen and Henry’s body was a different process. You described it as moving electrons from one object to another? That’s not how an electromagnet works! You’re doing it wrong!”

  I frowned. “But it works the same, doesn’t it?”

  “No way, there's a huge difference between an electromagnet and creating a temporary attraction by creating ionically charged metals. That’s how static electricity works. You stuck Henry to that wall the same way a balloon will stick to a cat who's been running around on a carpet.” Margaret paused to play a century-old youtube video of exactly that.

  “What you did with the engine nozzle was to somehow setup a massive current using power drawn from the reactors. Totally different. You can already use three different fundamental techniques, static charge manipulation, current manipulation, as well as whatever you want to describe your tech field as.” Margaret explained.

  I thought about her argument and sighed. She had a point. I’d gotten a bit confused about how magnets worked. “That doesn’t prove I can create electrons, Margaret, it just proves I’m an idiot and couldn’t even correctly duplicate what I did accidentally.”

  “Oh my god, you’re so negative!” Margaret complained, exasperated. “Just try! I’m certain you can, and I’m clearly way smarter than you. Don’t believe in yourself. Believe in me! Believe in the me who believes in you!” Margaret told me.

  “Was… was that a Gurrenn Lagan quote?” I asked incredulously.

  “Yeah, I’ve been picking Doppel’s brain to try and figure out which pop culture references I can use that you’d actually understand,” Margaret admitted sheepishly. “But, I’ve been saving that one for just this sort of occasion. I know I’m right, your power requires belief? Believe me, I’m completely certain you can do this.” She told me earnestly.

  Frowning, I held my palms about half a meter apart and visualized electrons just appearing there, popping into being from the sheer aether in a freakish violation of everything I knew about physics. There was no way this could work, I thought to myself. But then again, Margaret seemed so convinced, and she’d caught my error with regards to static electricity. I began to doubt my own preconceptions. It could work, maybe? No, I reminded myself, for my power to work I had to be absolutely certain that it would work. Sternly, I said to myself; let there be electrons.

  A bright flash of bluish light appeared between my palms as miniature lightning bolts formed, spreading from a central bright spot to arc to either side, stinging my palms. Ouch.

  “Holy shit! I can’t believe that worked!” Margaret said joyfully.

  I felt woozy. “I thought you were certain it would?” I asked, confused.

  “Nah I thought there was a chance it would work, but I’m a good con artist. It’s all about faking absolute certainty in what you say. Works like a charm.” Margaret explained, looking distracted for a brief moment, then she frowned and gave me a serious look, “I mean, of course, I was certain, I was just fooling just then.” She then turned to the side and yelled, “Hey Doppel! her blood sugar just collapsed, I’m monitoring her brain jar, she must have just burned a ton of calories, hit her up with a sugar rush before she passes out again.”

  “Roger,” Doppel said from somewhere off-screen, but I could tell she was currently inside the Villain’s Lair too. I suddenly felt better, the dizziness starting to fade. But I was still a bit appalled by how good of a liar Margaret was.

  “Doppel, what are you doing hanging out in there?” I asked. “Are you letting her access my vitals?” I asked, nonplused.

  Doppel appeared on the screen wearing dark Jedi robes. No wait, those robes were nearly black. “Doppel, what did I tell you about letting her turn you into Darth Doppel?” I asked, half-joking, half concerned.

  “Ah, sorry Sam, she told me the attire was essential to properly learn the dark side of programming and refused to give me hacking lessons unless I agreed to wear it. I forgot to change after my lesson.” Doppel said sheepishly. “We should take a break, don’t want to strain your grey tissue. But, good progress on your end Sam, really impressive.”

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  “Seriously Doppel, she’s a bad influence, did you see how good of a liar she is? Don’t pick up any bad habits and don’t let her talk you into fooling around with my brain.”

  “Hey! I resent that,” Margaret said, “I’ll have you know that proper social engineering tactics are a key component of hacking, you have to know how to lie to be able to spot a liar. And the blood sugar thing was just a basic precaution. I’m just doing my best to train you both! You believe me, don’t you, Doppel?”

  Doppel looked a little torn, glancing between the two of us. Then she perked up. “Oh hey! Look at that, Captain Tanlier and Mayor Townsend are on their way over to you, you better focus on that. Talk to you later.” She said cheerfully, before causing the window to vanish.

  I groaned. Margaret was a terrible influence on Doppel. I mean, I get why Margaret had projected false confidence and why she’d monitor my blood sugar, but the pop culture thing?

  It turned out Margaret and I both had an interest in obscure old movies and tv shows. While I’d grown out of that phase of my life, Doppel seemed to be regressing into the bad habits of my youth as she spent too much time with Margaret. Now she was feeding her pop culture reference ammunition for Margaret to use against me? Where had I gone wrong as her twin sister? I shook my head sadly, then stopped the tractor, and got off to meet the captain and the colonist partway.

  “Captain Tanlier,” I greeted the captain with a nod, then turned to the mayor. “Mayor Townsend, It is a pleasure to meet you,” I said politely, extending a hand. I wasn’t honestly sure the man would shake my hand, given that he was the leader of the group of Body Purists colonists we had in the cargo hold.

  But he calmly reached out and shook my hand, saying, “A pleasure to meet you, Shipbrain Deckart. May I call you Sam?” He asked.

  “Ah, sure, of course.” This was the first time someone had used my last name since I’d become the Shipbrain, I realized. It sounded strange to my ears.

  “You may also call me Jules, it’s short for Julius, but that makes me sound like I think I’m a Roman emperor,” Jules said with a chuckle.

  I laughed politely, surprised by how affable the man seemed. Then I decided to be blunt. “Jules, forgive me for asking, but I am a bit surprised. I was told members of your faith did not approve of brains in jars like me.”

  Jules laughed a bit, “Oh, I wouldn’t call us a faith. We’re more of a political action group that gave up and decided to start our own colony instead. We’ve tried for years to influence the laws back on Earth, but no one was interested in hearing our opinions, and in the end, most people just started using strawman arguments to make us look bad.” He explained, then with a serious look added, “Sam, I’m told you lost your body in a tragic accident, while saving all of our lives, is that true?”

  “Yeah.” I said simply, “There wasn’t anything left of me but my brain.” I explained.

  “Tragic. Would you have chosen to be a brain in a jar? Or would you rather still have your body?”

  That wasn’t really a tough question. For all the perks of being a Shipbrain, including my new BFF twin sister Doppel, if given the choice to have my own body back, I’d take it in a second. “I’d rather have a real body,” I admitted, especially if I could have it and also have Doppel somehow.

  “We Body Purists don’t think you should be punished for a tragic accident. We have nothing against the use of prosthetic limbs for people who lose them by misfortune, not even full cyborgs are intrinsically bad, in our opinion. What we object to is the voluntary choice to modify the human body. People who decide to just chop off a limb or give up perfectly healthy bodies out of some misguided desire to improve themselves? That’s what we object to. As well as radical cosmetic surgery, genetic alteration, and body modifications for purely… ego related reasons. Those are the things we wished to make illegal. Our society is moving away from what is natural into an artificial species. Our very humanity is being stripped away, bit by bit, and no one seems willing to stem that tide.” Jules explained, passionately. “So we decided that at least one colony world should take it upon itself to preserve true humanity, in case someday, the rest of humanity alters itself to the point of being unrecognizable.”

  Ah, I’d pressed the preach button, I thought to myself.

  Jules seemed to catch himself, then with an apologetic chuckle concluded. “But, no, I have nothing against you Sam. You’re a victim who gave up so much to save our lives, how could I blame you for that?” I frowned slightly. I’d never thought of myself as a victim before, and I didn’t much like the implication that Jules did. But he continued without noticing, “Becoming a Shipbrain was simply the best way to make use of someone with the disability of having lost their entire body, I applaud you for perseverance in the face of such adversity. Perhaps, if we had access to a proper medical facility that could have cloned a new body for you, you wouldn’t have needed to choose this career path, but unfortunately, becoming Shipbrain is irreversible.”

  That was a weird comment, I thought to myself. Although I sort of knew what he meant, I wanted to hear him explain, just to expose his thoughts on the matter. “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Oh, it's just that my day job before I was elected mayor is a neurosurgeon specializing in neural device extraction. I helped many people who decided they’d rather not have a neural implant anymore, maybe they regretted the decision, or wanted to cure their VR addiction by going cold turkey. Whatever the case, I am one of the few people qualified for that procedure. But no one can remove a Shipbrain’s implant without killing the Shipbrain. Unlike a normal neural device that feeds sensory information to the spine and optical nerve, the Shipbrain device is designed to allow Ulderani tech to minutely scan what your brain is doing at all times. It’s very intrusive, advanced sensors monitor every neuron. It’s how they make digital copies of you, there's more cybertech in your brain by weight than actual tissue at this point. That’s not something even the Ulderani can undo.” He informed me.

  I shuddered a bit, but then with a shrug, I replied, “I sort of already knew that, though I hadn’t really thought about the details,” I admitted.

  “And it doesn’t bother you?” He pressed.

  “I agreed to be a Shipbrain rather than being put into indefinite cryosleep.” I pointed out, “If I had known a new clone body waited for me when I got home, I might have made a different choice. But there’s no way for us to go home from here, and I knew what I was getting into when I agreed.” I told Jules. When I’d first woken up, I was just a brain in a jar, with no other connection than my basic neural interface, and only rudimentary life support, I could be carried around on a cart. After becoming the Shipbrain, I was a hardwired, integral part of the ship’s computer core, and no longer mobile. There was a machine in the computer room that performed the installation, but no machine could undo it without killing me. We also had no way to fix the jumpdrive, which had been damaged after the null jump.

  “Well, you are even braver than I thought,” Jules said with a warm, somewhat patronizing smile, “I’m certain I would rather have died, but I respect your choice. I suspect you chose it out of a desire to serve your crewmates. A lot of my fellow colonists are people who went and fought in the Ulderani War out of a desire to serve. They were given fancy Ulderani neural interfaces so they could operate the standard-issue Ulderani power armor. But when they got home, they decided they didn’t want an alien technology inside their heads, came to me, got it removed, and then spent the rest of their savings on buying a ticket to a new life. I think we have somewhere between two or three thousand former soldiers, in fact.” He added pointedly, with a glance at Captain Tanlier to see how the captain reacted. Captain Tanlier wore a polite smile that did not change in the slightest. He must have already known that, I thought to myself, there was a passenger manifest he could have studied.

  “With no idea how hostile the natives are,” the mayor continued, “I’d say we should start waking them up as soon as possible and use your autofab unit to produce simple gunpowder based assault rifles that will work without the need of any of this bizarre “tech field” I’ve heard so much about. Best to be prepared, don’t you think?” He asked me.

  Why didn't the colonists have their own autofab, I wondered, it seemed like an oversight not to have one. They were considerably expensive though, perhaps the colonists had simply not been able to afford it.

  I focused on the mayor's question, my brows furrowing slightly. I noticed Captain Tanlier’s minute shake of the head, he wanted me to say no. I chose to reply honestly. “Well, I don’t think violence should be our first plan. And, I would like us to have jobs for everyone we wake up, so we should wait until we are at the point where we need farmworkers before we start waking up a lot of extra idle mouths to feed. We need to plan to survive first, before planning for war.”

  “Hmm, well, perhaps that’s a valid point,” Jules said with an easy smile. “Perhaps we can compromise on a small number of soldiers? Just in case? And, maybe I could get you to start building those farms? Since you are the only one who can operate our tractors?”

  I smiled politely back at Jules, “You’ll have to discuss that with the captain. At the moment, I’m working on quarrying stone for our project to ensure the ship doesn’t fall over. Let me know when you two work out a schedule for me.” I told them politely, then turned to get back on the tractor before either of them could try to further drag me into their political games.