Agent to the Stars Part 30

"Yes, but you don't mean it literally," Gwedif said.

Joshua, who had been conferring with one of the Yherajk, trotted over and spoke to Gwedif. "Got the last-minute objection ironed out," he said. "We're ready."

"Very well," Gwedif said. "Should you speak or should I?"

"It's your show, big man," Joshua said. "Far be it from me to steal your thunder."

"All right, then," Gwedif said, and wafted out a not-too-obnoxious odor. The Yherajk on the risers, who had been cl.u.s.tered in groups, broke out of the groups and arrayed themselves in their formal positions. When they had gotten to their places, Gwedif spoke to us.

"The ientcio wishes me to inform you that after much debate, the senior officers have decided, at this juncture, to withdraw all opposition on moral ground to Joshua's inhabitation of your friend's body," he said. "Be aware that this does not mean that the senior officers have fully resolved the overarching philosophical and ethical issues at hand. Far from it, in fact. Be that as it may, the senior officers have come to agree that what is moral and ethical for Yherajk may not have an exact a.n.a.logue for humanity, and that this is likely to be one of those issues where the a.n.a.logue does not exist. If nothing else comes of this, you may at least have the consolation that you've introduced a new philosophical issue for the Yherajk to argue about for at least a century or two."

"I didn't mean to cause trouble," I said, looking at the Yherajk that I a.s.sumed was the ientcio. "You have to believe that I meant well."

"The ientcio says he understands that you humans have a phrase -- 'The road to h.e.l.l is paved with good intentions.' He suggests that this may be a case where that phrase might apply."

"Possibly," I said. "But we also have another phrase, 'You have to go through h.e.l.l before you get to Heaven.' It might also apply."

"The ientcio agrees that it might indeed," Gwedif said.

"I can't believe you just quoted a Steve Miller tune to the leader of an alien race," Van Doren, standing next to me, muttered under his breath.

"Shut up," I muttered back. "It worked."

"With the ethical issues in this case tabled at least for the moment, we have one final issue to confront," Gwedif said. "But there is a complication. It involves one of you."

"Which one?" I asked.

"Before I can answer that, I have to request something," Gwedif said. "We have to ask something of one of you. That person must answer a question, and that answer must be truthful, arrived at without coercion from the other two of you. There's a number of ways that we could do this, but the most convenient would simply be that the one of you asked the question to answer it without conferring with others."

"How would you do that?" I asked.

"We'd ask the other two of you to step away and turn around."

"Kind of low-tech, isn't it?" Van Doren asked.

"You'd prefer electrodes or something?" Gwedif said, breaking formality for just a second.

"Well, no," Van Doren admitted.

"Then I suggest we do it my way," Gwedif said. "Will you all agree to this?"

We all nodded our a.s.sent.

"The person is Miranda," Gwedif said.

"c.r.a.p," Miranda sighed. "It figures."

"Tom, Jim, please turn around and step back," Gwedif said. "Please listen, but do nothing else."

We did as we were told.

"Now, Miranda," we heard Gwedif said. "As I'm sure you know, your friend Mich.e.l.le's mind is severely damaged. Even if Joshua were to attempt to inhabit the body, he would not be able to control it, because of the severity of the brain damage."

"I understand that," I heard Miranda say.

"Normally, this would be the end of the issue," Gwedif said. "But Joshua has suggested another avenue that we have never explored. Simply put, it involves removing Mich.e.l.le's remaining personal memories, then replacing the damaged brain, and using a template of another, similar brain to control Mich.e.l.le's body."

"My brain," Miranda said.

"That's right," Gwedif said. "By examining how your brain functions and handles body operation, it's possible that Joshua might be able to train his own body to mimic your total brain function, and then use those functions to handle Mich.e.l.le."

"Will that really work?" Miranda asked.

"We don't know. There are several issues that complicate matters. The first, of course, is whether Joshua can successfully map your brain at all, well enough to have that map control a human body. The second issue is whether the way your brain handles your body is at all similar to the way Mich.e.l.le's brain handled hers. There are bound to be subtle differences, and possibly some that are not so subtle. The advantage would be that it would help give Joshua an even better idea of what it is to be human. It's also the only idea we've come up with that has a chance, however small, of succeeding."

"Why can't you use Tom's brain or Jim's brain as a model?" Miranda asked. "They're human, too."

"Yes, but they're men," Gwedif said. "On the level of bodily function, this presents obvious problems, since men and women are physically s.e.xually differentiated. Tom's brain or Jim's brain aren't prepared, for example, to handle something like menstruation."

"There's a comment that works on a whole bunch of levels," Miranda said.

"I'll bet," Gwedif said. "Beyond the physical issues, men and women also have different cognitive structure to their brains -- they use different parts of their brains to handle the same tasks. They're different enough that it would just make sense to use a woman's brain if we can. In a way, it's very lucky that you found out about Joshua; otherwise the chances of success for this idea would be even lower than they already are."

"How would you make a template of my brain?" Miranda asked. "Would you do what you did with Jim?"

"It's going to be quite a bit more involved than that, I'm afraid," Gwedif said. "Joshua would literally have to go swimming in your brain, examining each part of it, discovering how it functions and how it relates to every other part. He did this to some extent with Ralph, the dog whose body he inhabited, but in that case he had a couple of weeks to do it, and it was a fairly organic process. This will be much quicker and more invasive. There is some potential for injury on your part. We feel that it is small, but we would be remiss not to bring it up."

"What happens to Mich.e.l.le's brain?" Miranda said. "I mean, the one that's in there right now?"

"I suppose we'd get rid of it," Gwedif said. "It serves no further purpose at that point. It's already terribly damaged, and if we can't get this to work, your friend Mich.e.l.le will be dead regardless."

"That's terrible," Miranda said, and I could hear a trace of bitterness in her voice. "She deserves better than to have her brain, or any part of her, just thrown in the trash. Any of us do."

"I understand," Gwedif said. "And we're all very aware of your opposition to having Joshua inhabit the body. That's why we need to ask you, without input from Tom or Jim, whether you would do this. You will possibly be risking your own life and your own brain for something that is not likely to work. If it does not, your friend will certainly die. If it does, your friend is still dead and another person will have taken her place. This is your decision, Miranda. It can be made by no one but you."

I suddenly felt my hand taken up by Miranda's. "It's funny," she said. "I understand why you don't want me to ask Tom or Jim about it. I know how much this means to Tom. I don't know what it means to Jim, but if I had to guess, I'd say that he'd agree with Tom. But I think that either of them would tell me to make up my own mind. I'm sure of it, in fact."

I squeezed Miranda's hand fiercely. She squeezed it back briefly, and then let it go.

"I have a few more questions," Miranda said.

"Of course," Gwedif said.

"If Joshua goes into my brain, will he be making a copy of me?"

"I'll answer that," I heard Joshua said. "Miranda, no. I don't have any interest in things like your memories, just the way your brain handles your body."

"But who I am isn't just my memories, it's how I see the world," Miranda said. "Part of that's got to be how my brain works."

"Well, yes," Joshua said. "But, remember that your brain pattern is going to be overlaid onto my personality as it is now, and that Mich.e.l.le's memories will also be in a mix. The end result is going to be something that's part you, part me, and part Mich.e.l.le. And part Ralph the dog, now that I think about it. It's going to be a wild time inside that skull, let me tell you."

"How much of Mich.e.l.le is going to be in there?" Miranda asked.

"I haven't decided yet," Joshua said. "I have to see what works and what doesn't."

"You have to promise me that you have as much of Mich.e.l.le in there as possible," Miranda said. "And not just memories, Joshua. Anything of her that can be salvaged."

"I don't know if I can do that," Joshua said. "It may make it more difficult to inhabit the body."

"I don't care," Miranda said. "If you need me to do this, you have to live with my conditions. That's my condition. You and I don't belong in that body, Joshua. She does. I want as much of her in there as can be there. Or we have no deal."

"You understand that what you're asking may put you yourself at additional risk," Gwedif said. "Joshua will have to spend more time integrating your brain with what remains of her brain. The longer he has to be in your brain, the more dangerous it is for you."

"I figured as much," Miranda said. "But it's important to me. And it's the only way I'll do it."

"Are you sure?" Joshua asked.

"I am," Miranda said.

"All right," Joshua said. "I'll do it your way."

"Then I'll do it," Miranda.

It was only after I relaxed that I realized I was tense. I turned around.

"When do we start?" Miranda asked Joshua "As soon as you're ready," Joshua said. "You might want to have that extra stretcher from the ambulance to rest on, though. It's going to be a long, drawn out process."

"I'll make arrangements," Gwedif said, and slid away to do so. Joshua stepped back to the risers, apparently to confer with the senior officers. I went to Miranda, who stood there, looking drained.

"You're a star," I told her.

She smiled wanly. "I bet you say that to all the girls," she said.

"Sure," I said. "But I really mean it this time."

Miranda laughed a little, and then rested her head on my shoulder and cried just a little bit as well. Van Doren, who had been watching us, decided this was a good time to stare at a far wall. "Oh, Tom," Miranda said, finally. "I don't have the slightest idea what I'm doing."

"You'll be fine," I said. "You'll be just fine. I'll stay with you, if you want."

"And have you see me with aliens digging into my skull?" Miranda smiled more widely and wiped her eyes, clearing away the film of tears. "I don't think so, Tom. I don't think we're at that point in our relations.h.i.+p yet."

"I guess that's true," I said. "Most couples would save the alien probe scene until at least the tenth anniversary. You know, to add some zip to a stale relations.h.i.+p. We're just way ahead on that curve."

Miranda placed her hand on my cheek. "Tom," she said, not unkindly. "Right now, that's nowhere as funny as you think it is."

Miranda, Mich.e.l.le and Joshua wheeled away towards the Yherajk medical area, shapeless Yherjak pooling on the sides of the stretchers, pulling it along. Van Doren and I looked at each other. We had no idea what to do with ourselves now. Gwedif, who remained with us, offered a full tour. I accepted, and Van Doren tagged along, apparently excited at the idea of actually understanding what it was he was looking at this time.

The rest of the s.h.i.+p was as visually unappealing as what we had already seen: corridor and rooms carved out of the stone of the asteroid, smoothed over and filled with the Yherajks' equipment. For all intents and purposes, we could have been at a science lab anywhere on the planet -- everything functional, none of it esthetically pleasing.

Gwedif, who was trying to keep us distracted from our concern about Miranda and Mich.e.l.le, acknowledged that for us the s.h.i.+p might not be tremendously exciting to look at. That's the problem with our species having different primary sensory organs, he said. It's really fascinating to smell, he a.s.sured us. Of course, most of the smells on the s.h.i.+p would make us pa.s.s out from their potency if we didn't have noseplugs. Which Gwedif also admitted put a damper on the wonder of the s.h.i.+p.

The one area of the s.h.i.+p that I found the most interesting was what Gwedif labeled as the art gallery, with the tivis that Gwedif described to Carl. Like everything else on the s.h.i.+p, the tivis weren't much to look at -- they looked like shallow bowls left on the floor, with blackened crusts of something surrounded by wires. Gwedif steered us to one, suggested we sit down to get closer to the tivis, and then slid a tendril into a slot on the floor near the tivis.

The tivis immediately started to warm up; the wires were apparently heating elements. Through my noseplugs, I smelled something acrid, but I was also immediately overwhelmed by a sense of wistfulness, with overtones of happiness but the slightest bit of regret. It was the feeling you get when you see an old girlfriend, realize that she's a wonderful person, and that you were kind of an idiot to let her go, even if you're happily married now. I mentioned this (without the drama) to Gwedif.

"It worked, then," Gwedif said. "Tivis work by stimulating certain emotions through smells. This one," he pointed to the one we were at, "is actually fairly crude -- it's just one primary emotion with only a couple of emotional harmonics. Any of us could have made it, actually. It's the tivis equivalent of a paint-by-numbers. Some of our tivis masters can create works of incredible emotional depth, layering emotion on emotion in unexpected combinations. You can get really worked up over a good tivis."

"I'll bet," I said. "These could go over real big on earth. You need to introduce me to some of the Yherajk who make these."

"Looking for clients already?" Gwedif said.

"I've already got all of you as clients, Gwedif," I said. "Now I just need to find out which ones of you need individual attention."

We sampled a few more tivis before I got restless and wanted to return to the ambulance. If I was going to be worried, I wanted to be worried near something familiar. Van Doren came with me. We hung around the ambulance for an hour before Van Doren fished through the glove compartment and unearthed a pack of cards. We played gin. Van Doren kicked my a.s.s; he apparently didn't believe or understand the concept of a friendly game of cards. After I got sick of cards, I grabbed a blanket out of the ambulance, spread it out on the floor of the hangar and willed myself into another nap.

I awakened this time by someone sticking their toe in my side. I swatted at the leg. It jabbed, harder.

"Wake up," Someone said. It was Mich.e.l.le's voice.

I spun up, whacking my head on the ambulance as I struggled to get up. Mich.e.l.le stood before me, naked. There was a crooked and slightly sardonic grin on her face. Never in all the years that I knew her had she ever had an expression like that. Sardonicism would have been a little much to ask out of Mich.e.l.le.

"Joshua?" I asked.

"You were expecting maybe Winston Churchill?" Joshua said. "By the way, I think you might as well start calling me Mich.e.l.le. There are very few people who look like this," she motioned to her body, "That would be called Joshua."

"All right....Mich.e.l.le," I said.

Van Doren came over and frankly stared at Mich.e.l.le's naked form. "Wow," he said. "I may have to revise that comment about taking you off my list of women to date."

"Back off, jerky," Mich.e.l.le said.

"I just can't win," Van Doren complained.

"I guess we can say the transfer was a success," I said.

"It was easier than I thought," Mich.e.l.le said. "It helped that Gwedif had rummaged around through a human brain before. When I first suggested the idea of going into Miranda's brain, he shared his knowledge with me so I didn't have to fly completely blind. And Miranda was very open as well. Between the two of them, we made some remarkable progress."

"Where is Miranda?" I asked.

"She's sleeping," Mich.e.l.le said. "The experience took a lot out of her."

"Is she all right?" I said. "I mean, no damage to her?"

"Other than fatigue, no, none," Mich.e.l.le said. "Though you might give her a few days off when we get back. Let her rest up."

"She can take the rest of the year off," I said.