The Iris (Gravity, Space, and Time: Book 1) by Patkós Csaba - HTML preview

Chapter 27 - Curiosity

Date: June 21, 2856

"I am ready, Captain Peterson. Ask."

"What's your name?"

"Do you prefer a phonetic approximation your ears can hear, or an English name?"

"Let's try phonetic."

"Alabamcosqastanametiklets."

"Uhmm... that's a mouthful. Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. What's the English version?"

"John."

"Meh. What do your colleagues and friends call you?"

"Alabamcosqastanametiklets."

"Really?"

"We use more frequencies to communicate."

"It still takes an eternity to pronounce."

"We also speak very fast compared to you and to the majority of species we've encountered."

"Do you have genders?"

"Yes."

"Are you a male or female?"

"I think... that would be a female... at the moment."

"Can I call you Ala?"

"Certainly, Captain Peterson. How would you like me to call you?"

"Well, I guess you can call me Ben. And you can also use a female voice, please."

"I will."

"What's your species name?"

"Phonetic or English approximation?"

"Uhmm... what is your species called by other alien species?"

"That would be... Gados."

"Gados?"

"Yes, as in Galactic Doctors. We are considered the best doctors in the Alliance and treat all species in it. We've cured all illnesses and continue to fight and cure the new ones that appear throughout this part of the galaxy."

"Amazing... And I guess you said Gados as derived from English based on the same logic?"

"Exactly."

"How is it that you speak English so well?"

"We speak all the languages our patients use. A very long time ago, we devised a scanner that can read brain activity and analyze the language center. Then it's only a matter of imprinting the same language patterns onto our own brains with a similar device. The whole process takes less than a minute and requires no talking at all, just an alive patient."

"Alive?"

"Ah, sorry Captain Peterson... I mean Ben. Humans frequently die after severe injuries in your society. That is unthinkable here. As long as the individual is young, or at least not at the end of its natural life, we can heal them... or should I say revive them."

"But... how?"

"I believe that explanation is beyond your understanding, Ben. No offense, but you are not capable of understanding the technology and science behind it. There may be a few individuals in human space who could understand it, but even applying it is beyond your technological and scientific evolution at the moment."

"OK, OK. No offense. I understand. What happened?"

"You crossed 4.5 GUs."

"Where am I?"

"I already answered that. Problems with your memory? The scans don't show any irregularities."

"No. I mean where are we situated in space?"

"That is a question you will have to wait for a little bit longer. Once your body recovers completely, you will meet other... people... who can explain it to you better than I could at the moment."

"That is not helping with my frustration."

"Sorry. Some questions I just cannot answer or are better suited for a different environment. Anything else?"

"How long was I out?"

"Twenty... one... days."

"Why were you hesitating to tell me that? It's not like a century or something."

"Well... I can answer that. Your body was seriously hurt during your starship's adventure beyond 4.5 GUs. From your perspective, you died on the ship, a little more than three weeks ago. We rebuilt your body, your brain, and imprinted it with human thought patterns. But they are not perfect. Each individual's patterns are different, unique, based on their individual experiences. We didn't have a copy of your patterns, so we started with a neutral one. You woke up. Your first question was how long. When I answered, your brain went into overdrive and risked frying itself.

We adjusted and repeated. It was better, but not good enough. This is the third time I answered that question, and the only time you took it well. You see, Ben, we work with science and technology you may consider magic, but it is not infallible, not perfect. There is a limit to how much we can do before turning healing into torture.

Our rules dictate three attempts per individual for a complete brain imprint. If after three attempts the individual can not regain rational thinking and consciousness, we stop and declare the patient dead. You are... lucky, I guess. It worked this time."

"I... don't know what to say. Why three attempts? Why not continue until you succeed? It's not like I remember the first two occasions you mentioned."

"You don't remember them. Your brain doesn't remember them. But you still felt all of it at those times. How many is too many? How many is not enough? How many failed attempts can be considered torture? How many times should an individual suffer before dying? We, the Gados, set the limit to three attempts."

"My crew? Are they alive?"

"Some of them survived the incident and are already healed. Most of them died, from your point of view, but were since healed or are about to be healed. You are not the only patient here, and I am not the single doctor. There are many similar conversations going on as we speak with other members of your crew who just woke up."

"How long until I am healed and can leave this room?"

"Two more days."

"Can I get some kind of datapad to read about this place meanwhile?"

"No. You will be sleeping. Your brain patterns are stable. Now we need to make sure all your organs are stable as well."

"I see."

"Any more questions?"

"I... no."

"So, Ben, what do you feel?"

"I feel acceptance. I understand my situation. I accept it. I accept my fate is in your hands. I know I can't do anything to change it at the moment. I am comfortable with recognizing my situation. I also feel hope now, after our discussion."

"Thank you, Ben. Good night."

Peterson's thoughts stopped in mid-flight. His mind went black. An instant, deep sleep.