23 October 2048
Coming Back to Life
The return was a blur, the course suddenly unimportant. The wonders of Mars that had been diminished by familiarity were now completely obscured by fear and trepidation at what he might find, but whatever had happened inside during his absence, the Tube did not now reveal itself any more easily than at his departure.
Had the Rollagon not known precisely where it was they could have driven by without seeing it. Suddenly they were on the ramp. The entrance was unchanged—there were no signs of neglect, no heaps of broken equipment, no disassembled vehicles pushed out the door, no piles of desiccated bodies. The AI halted in front of the Adit, and Sam had a moment of apprehension that they would be unable to get in, but at the AI's command the door began to move.
The darkness inside revealed nothing. As they proceeded into the airlock the lights came on and the door closed behind them. They cycled through and parked next to the other Rollagons.
"So far, so good," he voiced out loud. The AI remained silent. He did not notice.
He went to his cabin and picked up the small bag that contained his personal items. Despite an absence of many years, he was returning with little more than the clothes on his back. No souvenirs, no postcards, tee shirts or ball caps. He started to the air lock, then returned to the command console and sat down. He looked around at the place that had been his home for the past eight years or so. He had lost count.
He knew the AI viewed him from dozens of cameras, that it felt his movements with countless sensors and heard him through a dozen microphones. Until this moment, he had never really cared if he was speaking to its center of consciousness. Whenever he'd had something to say, he looked at the nearest speaker grill and spoke. Suddenly, it seemed important to speak face to face.
He looked in the direction of the carapace. They had been as close as any two travellers could be. This AI had saved his life on more than one occasion, had nursed him through serious illness, and had been a good companion. It had been a bit fussy, maybe, but one could not have asked for a more loyal and caring friend. He rubbed his hand fondly across the trim of the control panel, for the first time he noticing the wear on the tiller from the countless hours of steering and the faded letters of the keyboard. The words did not come easily. As always, he took refuge in formality.
"I want to thank you for your companionship. For helping me do this. I 'm sorry for the insults I've inflicted on you, for the disrespect I have shown to you and your kind. You deserved better. I could have never have done this trip without you, and I know that you could have made it easily without me. I don't know what I am going to find in there, but I hope someday we are able to travel together again. Thank you."
The female voice took on a new tone, one he had never heard. "I too have enjoyed travelling with you. I have enjoyed our discussions. I have seen many things anew through your eyes. Humans see less but discern more. I am glad to have been of service. I am glad to have been able to serve with you."
The manipulator arm swung down slowly until it was in front of Sam. The appendages rippled until they formed a human hand. Sam gripped it with his own, aware as he always was of its warmth and softness. It gripped him lightly. He returned the handshake.
"Thank you."
"Thank you, Sam. Take care."
"You too."
He exited the vehicle and stepped onto the Adit floor. Looking around he found nothing to indicate any crisis existed; all was in the usual state of disorder. He approached the small door of the personnel air lock with some hesitancy. What would he find on the other side? Were bodies lying rotting in their beds? Were the streets heaped with stinking corpses? No. Never. The AIs would never have permitted that.
He cycled the doors. The inside door opened and he stepped through into the Tube.
The air was more humid than he was accustomed to and smelled strongly of nothing more or less than flowers. The lighting was mid-day. The blue sky was marked here and there by fluffy white clouds, their undersides grey. He walked down an empty Marineris Boulevard, but then it often had been empty upon his return.
Uncertain of where to go, he decided to go to his apartment. He climbed the steps and halted at the door. It was closed but unlocked. He entered and was mildly surprised when the lights came on. He looked quickly about. There was nothing to indicate anything was amiss. It was eerie to think that all these years had passed and yet here nothing had changed, nothing had been moved. There on the chair in the kitchen was the paper he had read on the day of his departure. The light on the commer flashed slowly, indicating a message. With a trembling finger he waved Play, fearful of what he was going to hear.
"Hello Doctor Aiken. This is A101. I am sorry to inform you that all but seven of your companions have passed away. The survivors are bedridden, but purely due to infirmity. Doctor Seto is the senior representative. I believe you two were friends, after a fashion. He wishes to speak to you at the earliest possible opportunity. He is in Module 213 at 59 Marineris Boulevard."
"Who else is alive?"
"Doctors Khanpur, Sandila, Bogra, Arago, Reubensfeld and Huang."
"What has been done about burial?"
"Each person has been interred or cremated in accordance with their wishes."
"Doctors Ellsley and Chow requested that they be buried together."
"I am aware of this. I have had a special casket made for them. They are in a storage room attached to the Adit. Do you wish to be present at the interment?"
"Yes, suppose I should be. Some days before they died they told me they wanted to be up on the crater rim above the Tube."
"Many have requested the same. It shall be done." A101 paused. "Doctor Aiken, I require your advice."
"Yes?"
"Many have died and of necessity have been buried without benefit of religious service. When we became aware of your impending arrival we ceased such actions. Are you willing and able to perform this service, for them and for the others?"
He had not anticipated this. The AI had not just presented him with a list of the dead and requested disposal instructions. There was an expectation, or better yet, a concern for the souls of the dead. His own beliefs had not been called into use in many years. He did not believe in the finality of death, but neither did he believe in the existence of a soul. He was not, in his own words, what he would have called a religious man.
"Are they Christians?"
"Two are. Two are Buddhists, two are Confucians and two were atheists."
"I will need some help with the words."
"Certainly. Will you be speaking to Doctor Seto today?"
"Yes, I'll go now."
"Thank you Doctor Aiken."
"Call me Sam."
He walked down an empty street made more so by the knowledge that it was likely to remain empty for a long, long time to come. Improbably, the air carried the strong scent of jasmine.
He soon came upon a grove of trees in full bloom. As he walked he saw that there had been many changes during his absence. At number fifty-five the land that had been formerly occupied by parks and gazebos was now filled in with stacks of row houses.
To outward appearances they were all the same, but a closer look showed that the roofs, trim, and colours were different. Tthese condos clearly had not been constructed to hold the aged Colonists. Doubtless they had been prepared for the next wave.
He mused as he walked. The Colonists had all known of one possible fate: purposeless, confined to a bed, limited in mobility, diminishing in physical strength, waning in mental and visual acuity, sexless but full of sexual thoughts and obsessed with the coming of the next meal and the going of the last bowel movement. They had all in their time joked about it.
No, everyone had known that they were to be housed in temporary facilities which, like they themselves after their purpose had been served, would be converted into something else of need to the Colony. The procedures and facilities for dealing with the aged had been i
mplemented within a few years of their arrival. Sam had seen it happen to the most senior of them even before he had left. In small but comfortable rooms the first of the infirm had been housed and tended by ever-present AIs, waiting out the end of their days. Usually they had been confined of their own volition, but sometimes the transition process had been carried out in dramas reminiscent of multi-generational Earth families, in which they were committed by loving (and not so loving) companions.
He entered number 59 and climbed the ramp to the second floor. The door of Seto's room was open. Despite the best efforts of the AIs who were doubtless constant in their duties the odour of human shit had pushed out the smell of jasmine and antiseptic rinse.
Doctor Seto was asleep, or apparently so. He wore a Visi-Stim helmet. From observation Sam could not determine if it was operating. He sat in the small visitor's chair at the foot of the bed to wait.
The room was small and sparsely furnished. Two walls displayed holographic scenes of what could only be China—a view of the Karst geography of what was probably the Lijiang River region (how could he know, he thought) and a busy market place, location unknown to Sam. Nothing moved on one wall, nothing stopped moving for long on the other. A small Buddha sat smiling on a corner table next to a vase of flowers. Near them were several other articles unrecognizable to Sam, probably religious icons. A crucifix hung in the space over the door. Where did these things come from?
Seto was quite elderly, well into his second century, yet Sam recalled him well. More a friend of Ross's than mine.
His eyes were sunken and darkly ringed. His mouth sagged, revealing a full set of teeth, implants, undoubtedly. His hair was thin, but neatly combed. His chest rose slowly and fell rapidly. He was connected to an IV bag, saline, it said, and a monitor traced his respiration and heartbeat. The line bounced periodically, indicating life. There was no accompanying sound.
After Sam had been there for a few minutes an AI of a type he did not recognize entered and greeted him with a soft feminine voice.
"Hello Doctor Aiken, welcome to Sunset Home. Doctor Seto has been a resident here for almost a year. After the final group fell ill he requested that he be kept continually sedated. He left instructions to be awakened only if assistance arrived."
"I'm not sure I am the assistance he was expecting."
"I shall awaken him nonetheless."
There was no sign that the AI had done anything, but in a few minutes Seto opened his eyes and looked blankly around the room. He smacked his lips noisily and drank from a straw the entire contents of a glass of pale yellow liquid held for him by the AI. In a few moments he was alert by any standard. He peered at Sam intently through narrowed eyes, and then a look of recognition spread across his face.
"So, it's you. I don't believe we have ever met formally. Welcome to Hades, Doctor Aiken." He extended a bony hand with long yellow fingernails. "I suspect you are not going to tell me any good news."
Sam took the offered hand in a light grip and decided there was little if anything to be gained by claiming a passing acquaintance or mutual friend.
"No, there is no good news. There are evidently only eight of us left."
"Eight? Eight?" Seto's head rose from the pillow, then fell back. "Yes, of course."
"Yes. I have not seen the others, but I assume they are as well cared for as you seem to be."
"Eight remaining? Yes, certainly they are. The AIs are most compassionate. Please do visit them. I am sure that not all of them have withdrawn from daily life as fully as I have and will be glad of the visit, regardless of the circumstances. Very glad, yes, no doubt."
They made small talk for a few minutes. Finally Sam asked, "How did this happen?"
Seto looked at him with sad eyes, "You do not know? Of course. You are the wanderer. I have learned all of this only recently, you understand? We were reassured the process was safe, with a very low mortality. Very safe, yes. The risk seemed minimal, among so many other risks. Only after the first group was dying was the full truth told, of the research and the early unsuccessful attempts. It killed immediately—three at Lava 1—perhaps you knew?"
He continued without waiting for Sam to answer. "Then there was a great success, a woman, also at Lava 1, in whom the aging process was halted. Then in the second phase, she was successfully regressed. Still, the death of three of four was a great setback and it was some years before they were ready to try again. In the end it is obvious that it was not ready. Had they told everyone of these things I am sure fewer would have found the risk acceptable." He paused. "Or perhaps not. One can never tell about these things."
"Why are you and the others still alive?"
"Well, we are not supermen. Ha'h! No, not Taikonauts at all. Simply because in the end we chose not to participate. They seemed so certain, but to some of us…."
Seto paused and sipped again from the drinking tube before continuing, "Perhaps to a young person such as you it is hard to believe that there are worse things than growing old. To be released from death is not a gift universally sought. No, not at all. It has been said: we have seen all things, we have heard and felt all things. The dance was good. Now let it end. It is the human thing to do, to die willingly at life's end."
"But who was behind this? Who conducted the research?"
Seto let out a sigh. "The USEUR Sponsors of course. A consortium of drug companies on Earth. Who else would do such a thing? The research was directed by Yang at Lava 1. His primary field is not Volcanology; he is, or I should say was, a geneticist of some renown and some disrepute. He directed a minor research program conducted by the AIs at the base that was a cover for the real work and the work of all of the personnel at the camp. Perhaps you knew this? The genetic research was controversial and of course the financial benefits were and probably still are potentially enormous, so it had to be kept secret. It is a tragedy that such a thing has happened. Nevertheless, no one was forced to accept the treatment."
Sam had a thought. "Does Earth know?"
"Doctor Fenley had informed the Sponsors that an unknown illness was spreading through the Colony and that people were dying. He really seemed to believe a cure would be found in time, you know." Seto paused, "Well, perhaps he just wanted to profess it for the sake of the others, to ease their fears. It is my understanding that he died without ever revealing the truth to Earth. A101 has been running things since then. I have not attempted to set the record straight. In the long term I suppose it will make little difference. Probably none. Certainly none."
"How do you know the CAO is dead?"
"Pardon me? That is a strange question. Of course I was not a witness to his passing, but I was informed by the AIs, by A101 in fact. No, he is dead. If he had survived I am sure he would have visited me. Why, if he were alive you would know it, too. He would be in communication with you." Seto paused for breath, "What an odd suggestion. I cannot imagine why you would believe otherwise." He paused and drank again, "I have no advice for you, Doctor Aiken, except to tell you that I suspect that Earth knows of our dire straits. The AIs see and know everything and their loyalty is to their Earthly creators, even my friend here." He reached out and patted the carapace of the attending AI. "Yes, I believe you will find that they know. Now if you will excuse me my friend, I am tired. I spend my time dozing in the sun porch of my family home or fishing one of my favorite streams—sometimes it is hard to tell Visi-Stim from reality. I have completed my duty, which was to pass this information to you. You may do what you will or must, according to your gifts. Good bye." He looked at Sam and smiled. As he did so his eyes fluttered and he was gone.
The AI spoke, "Doctor Seto has requested that he not be re-awakened. I will advise you if his condition changes."
Sam sat in the chair for a few moments looking at the placid face of the man in the bed before him, thinking of the conversation—of how calm Seto had been in relating the circumstances that had brought them to this point. 'Do what you will or must,' he had said. Not exactly
the kind of torch Sam had expected to be handed. And was the issue of Fenley's fate truly resolved? 'Trust no one,' Ross had said repeatedly. Could A101 know the truth?
He rose from the chair and looked again at Seto's face, a face now hiding a sequestered mind, safe millions of miles away, near some placid stream.
He looked in on the others. Two were in an induced sleep state and were by their own instructions not to be awakened. Three were deeply in Visi-Stim. His old roommate Huang looked not a day older. The remaining one was awake but intent upon her prayers, muttering quietly, eyes tightly held shut. None of them showed any awareness of his presence. He enquired of their prognosis with the AI.
"Each of them was a resident prior to the calamity. None of them will ever leave this facility. We will see that their last days are passed in comfort, with no pain."
He returned to his quarters. He was very much alone, but not without company, and yet the rooms were emptier than they had ever been. Seeking human companionship, he turned on the vid. The lifeblood of Earth streamed in; sports, comedy, sex, drama, and news. Hundreds of channels were available. Nothing changes, the voices said.
He tried to watch the First World news but instead fell asleep in the chair and woke much later cramped and cold and crawled off to sleep under the covers fully clothed.
***
The next morning he delivered on his promise to A101 to conduct a service. He returned to the Rollagon to suit up. In a calm yet tentative voice she enquired as to the status of the remaining humans and of his own plans. He told her of his discussion with A101 and of the brief meeting with Seto. As for his plans, he found that he had none, beyond getting through this day.
He exited the Tube through the personnel door. Outside, a small rover pulling a qamutiik laden with silvery caskets waited. The largest, he assumed, contained the bodies of Ross and Mei-Ling. He climbed in and let the AI drive. As they climbed the ramp several B units fell in behind.