Brian Plante - True Blue

Illustration by Janet Aulisio

Grandma Ruth stood at the far end of ship’s rec room three, her hands fluttering about her, busy at some unseen activity, when Max entered the tiny room. Perhaps she was playing a musical instrument, Max thought. Or sculpting. It was odd watching someone act out their recreational simulation without actually viewing the sim.

“Who’s there?” Grandma Ruth asked, looking blindly in Max’s direction.

Grandma was a frail, gray-haired woman, seventy-nine years old according to her medical charts; the oldest crew member on board the John Chapman, and one of the last of the Earth-borns. Max saw the wire harness trailing behind Grandma Ruth’s head, snaking down to the floor and back up to the control panel on the wall. Until he jacked into the console himself, he was not part of her simulation and invisible to her.

“It’s me. Dr. Max,” he said. Max wasn’t really a doctor, having spent his entire life shipboard, light-years from the nearest medical school. The training sims had taught him most of the technical things he needed to know, but he was still picking up the “people” skills, a proper bedside manner, and the time was coming when he would soon take over as the ship’s medical officer. Grandma Ruth was old-fashioned and preferred the title “doctor” over “medical officer.” Max didn’t argue the point.

“Dr. Max,” Grandma Ruth repeated. “How nice. Why don’t you plug in so I can see you?”

Max thought it would be better if Grandma Ruth unplugged, but it was hard to disagree with the old lady. Like a lot of the crew, Max revered Grandma Ruth. When he was a boy, she used to tell Max and all the kids his age the stories about old Earth. It all seemed so different from life on the ship, the only life his generation ever knew, but somehow Grandma had a knack for making the home planet come alive in the minds of the children where the educational and entertainment sims could not. Max fondly remembered the good times he and his friends had spent at Grandma Ruth’s knee listening to the tales of places like New York and Paris and Disney World. Grandma Ruth never had any children of her own, but to Max and couple of dozen others she had been like a second mother.

As all those children grew up into responsible positions, Grandma Ruth had rightfully assumed the position of grande dame of the John Chapman. Too bad, Max thought, but somehow along the way, the second generation of ship-borns didn’t seem to care about the old Earth stories, and Grandma Ruth’s audience dwindled. But Max remembered those days fondly, and if Grandma Ruth wanted him in her sim, there was no way he could resist. He picked up a free harness from the console and guided it into the connector on his mastoid bone.

It was a warm and bright one, this simulation, Max thought. He had to squint for a few seconds as his eyes adjusted from the dim rec room lighting to the new perceived level. After he got over the initial disorientation, he surveyed the tableau: some sort of flimsy-looking construction, with walls of glass offering dramatic views of blue sky and white puffy clouds. In the structure itself were rows and rows of green plants. Max had never seen one, but had read about such places. It was a greenhouse.

Grandma Ruth had been a cargo specialist in her active years, and on a seed ship like the John Chapman, the cargo was mainly botanical, so it almost made sense. But the plants growing in the sim greenhouse weren’t exactly the kind of things the crew would be growing when they made planetfall.

Scattered among the green foliage was a riot of colorful flowers, vivid in the bright sunshine. Yellows from the fairest flax to a striking saffron, reds from pale pink to strong scarlet, purples from light lilac to murky maroon. And whites of all varieties, linen and alabaster and milk and snow.

Most rec room simulations weren’t this detailed. Max breathed in the heady floral fragrance, so much more clean and natural-smelling than the artificial aromas used in the entertainment sims. It was very impressive.

“They’re roses,” Grandma Ruth said. “Do you like them?”

It was obvious she had put a lot of hard work into this sim. It wasn’t at all patronizing when Max replied, “This is incredible; they’re all so beautiful, Grandma. Did you used to grow them back on Earth?”

Grandma Ruth smiled and replied, “Yes, but it was a bit trickier growing them in the dirt than it is in the computer. But then I don’t imagine you’re here to admire my roses, are you?”

“No, Grandma Ruth. Officer… Doctor Lillian said I might find you here. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. I like showing off my roses.”

“Well, Dr. Lillian wanted me to start making some of her regular rounds from now on. She’s going to be retiring from active duty soon.”

“She’s all right, isn’t she?” Grandma Ruth asked.

“Oh sure, but she’s getting on in years and it’s time to step down now.”

“I suppose,” Grandma Ruth said, her smile fading as a somber expression came over her face. Against her wishes, she had been forced to give up active duty six years ago. Max had been in training back then, and recalled how Grandma Ruth had fought that decision tooth and nail, but in the end it was Lillian’s medical reports that had tipped the scales against her.

“Well, anyway,” Max said, “I just wanted to touch base and see how you were doing. See if you needed anything.”

“You’re just checking to see if I’m still alive,” Grandma said through pursed lips. “You don’t have to mince words with me. Lillian never does.”

“That’s not… we just want to make sure our Grandma Ruth is all right.”

“Who’s we?” Grandma said with a silly grin.

“Everyone. Jeez, Grandma, even the little kids are always asking ‘How is Grandma Ruth doing?’ ”

“Ahh, so the death watch has started then, has it?”

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

Grandma Ruth put a hand lightly on Max’s forearm and said, “It’s OK. I’m just being a crotchety old fool. I guess I should be happy that they still send someone out to look after me. And I’m just fine today—thanks for asking.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Max said. He gave the greenhouse another appreciative look and added, “Nice place you have here. Is it OK if I come again?”

“It’d be a pleasure, Dr. Max. I’m here every day, same time, rain or shine.”

Max made a face. “I know what rain is, Grandma. Was that supposed to be a joke?”

“Actually, no. My sim randomly changes the weather from day to day and season to season. It’s supposed to mirror Bloomington, Minnesota.” Max gave her a puzzled look, so she added, “On Earth. It’s where I grew up. Anyway, I’m always here for the full hour if you want to see me. There’s not much else to do on the ship after you retire, you know.”

Max didn’t know, but he nodded yes as if he understood perfectly well. It was a skill Lillian had taught him, to nod knowingly when a patient described her problems, even if you didn’t have a clue what she was talking about. Dr. Lillian had trained Max well and he knew that sometimes a patient needed more than routine medical care. Sometimes a patient just needed somebody talk to.

“Grandma Ruth, what exactly do you do with all these flowers?” Max asked.

“Oh, just a little breeding. Crosspollination, trying to come up with something new.”

“Why don’t you just program the simulation for whatever you want, then? It looks like you really know how to program this thing.”