Christopher Nuttall - A Learning Experience

“But it still seems odd for aliens not to notice the dangers.”

“This race seems to be permanently trapped in the Dark Ages,” Steve said, as they reached the alien’s cabin. The cleaning effort hadn’t quite reached this part of the ship; he saw Wilhelm wrinkle his nose as he smelled the decomposing alien meat in the air. “Just like some human groups, for that matter.”

“True,” Kevin agreed. “You know we used to offer laptops to schoolchildren in Africa? The idea was that they would develop their talents and join the global information age.”

Wilhelm lifted his eyebrows, but said nothing.

“We did a survey, a year after we donated the laptops,” Kevin explained. “Only a handful of children ever managed to learn how to use them properly. The remainder were either junked or turned into portable lights for the women who cook. They — the laptops — were just so far outside their experience that they had no idea what to do with them.”

“And these aliens are the same,” Wilhelm mused. “You know, we could probably sell some crap to the aliens if that’s the case.”

Steve nodded. “Something to think about, if we live that long,” he agreed. He opened the door to the alien’s room. “Meet… the alien.”

He smiled as Wilhelm gasped in shock. It was a familiar reaction by now; men who took the teleporter in their stride found themselves caught short by the mere presence of the alien. A couple who happened to be deathly scared of spiders had recoiled when they’d seen the alien, then had to be given alcohol to calm their nerves. But then, after meeting deadly spiders in Iraq and Afghanistan, the fears were actually somewhat logical.

“Let me know when you come to an agreement,” Steve said to Kevin, then left the compartment. “I have to check up on Edward.”

He made his way down to the medical bay, then smiled. In a handful of hours, Mariko had turned it into something more suitable for human use, scrubbing the decks clean and installing a couple of beds she’d had brought up from the ranch. The older kids had helped, captivated by the thought of learning from alien computers and neural interfaces rather than at their desks, along with the rest of the children in the region. He smiled as he saw Edward, lying on one of the beds.

“I feel fine,” Romford protested. “But she threatened to cuff me to the bed if I tried to leave.”

“She’s the boss in this sickbay,” Steve said, firmly. “How are you feeling?”

“Well, I can feel my legs and my groin,” Romford said. “That’s… very definitely an improvement. And I can actually walk, when she lets me.”

He paused. “Does she have a sister?”

“She never talks to her family,” Steve said. He wasn’t surprised by the question. If he’d lost the ability to have sex and then regained it, he would have wanted to have sex as soon as possible too. “But there will be other women coming up here.”

“Or there will be shore leave, I hope,” Romford said. He sat upright, looking down at his hairless chest. “She says the hair will grow back in its own sweet time.”

“She’s probably right,” Steve said. Romford was certainly sounding a whole lot better. The croak was gone from his voice, for one thing. “What else did she say?”

“She said he ought to stay in bed,” Mariko’s voice said. Steve turned to see her standing behind him, her hands on her hips. “I know this autodoc is likely to put us all out of business, but I would infinitely prefer to have you lying down until I am absolutely sure it does what it says on the tin.”

“Yes, boss,” Romford said, reluctantly.

Mariko caught Steve’s hand and pulled him into the next compartment. “I don’t tell you what to do on the ranch,” she snapped. “Don’t tell me what to do in my sickbay!”

An angry retort came to Steve’s lips, but he forced it down. “What’s wrong?”

Mariko sighed. “I checked him carefully,” she said. “I did every test I could think of with the equipment I brought up from the ranch. And you know what I found?”

Steve shook his head.

“Perfection,” Mariko said. “His spine has been repaired, several gunshot wounds are no longer detectable, a small problem with his heart has been fixed, even the excess fat he gained since being forced into the residence has been removed. The autodoc did a perfect job, well beyond anything the best surgeon on Earth could do.”

She sighed. “This thing will put all the surgeons on Earth out of business,” she added. “And there are quite a few other things it can do. Do you realise that we could start producing cancer cures now? Or a modified virus that could destroy AIDS? Or… hell, Steve, I want to improve the kids. What sort of mother would I be if I let this opportunity pass me by?”

“Improve the kids?” Steve asked. “How?”

“All sorts of little genetic tweaks,” Mariko said. “They’d have perfect eyesight for the rest of their lives. They’d live at least two hundred years with minimal age-related decay. They’d be completely immune to everything from the Common Cold to AIDS. They’d never really put on weight or lose their muscle tone; hell, I think even their mental agility can be modified and improved. And this… thing just did it! I asked for a list of options and it provided them, almost at once.”

She looked up at him, plaintively. “Steve, honey, this scares the hell out of me.”

Steve frowned. He didn’t understand. “Why?”

“One thing you learn as a doctor,” Mariko said, “is that, on average, there are no real differences between different races — different human races, I should say. But with this technology… it wouldn’t be long until people start creating superhumans, men and women who are smarter, stronger and just plain more capable than the rest of the human race. Or you could start creating slaves, people who really are good for nothing more than grunt labour, people who are always obedient to those they know to be their masters because servitude is engineered into them.

“This is Pandora’s Box, honey. And once you open it you can’t stuff the contents back inside.”

She hugged him, tightly. “That’s why I’m scared,” she admitted. “This is going to change the world. Everything will change.”

Steve nodded, hugging her back. Now, he was scared too.

Lunar Base, The Moon

“Now this,” Steve declared, “is impressive.”

“Glad to hear it,” Graham Rochester said. “And glad you decided to look in on us.”

Steve smiled. Rochester had been a British Army Combat Engineer before being seriously wounded in Afghanistan and sent back to face the tender mercies of the British National Health Service. He’d been as badly crippled as Romford — perhaps worse — and the offer of a new life had been too much for him to refuse. Unlike Romford, he’d decided to become an outright cyborg. One of his arms had been replaced by a cyborg arm that whirred and clicked at inappropriate moments, his eyes had been replaced by sensors and his skin had been coated in a material that allowed him to survive in vacuum. He claimed it was far better than mere humanity.

“I was taught it was always a bad idea to let subordinates think I didn’t care about them,” Steve said. “But you’ve done wonders in a single month.”

“That’s what the Royal Engineers are for,” Rochester said. “You should see some of the bases we had to put together in Afghanistan at a moment’s notice. Compared to that, this is a snap.”

Steve nodded, his gaze sweeping across the surface of the moon. It looked oddly dirty, with modified human vehicles and mining tools scattered everywhere. The foundations of Heinlein Colony were under the lunar surface — it would provide additional protection and camouflage for the colony — but enough was visible for him to know that work was proceeding smoothly.