Cyborg in Cygnus

By Richard Allen

I suppose I should introduce myself in a little more formal fashion. I am Andrea Ubutanga, a cyborg. Yeah, I am not even really a human being, regardless of the UEC officially declaring me to be one. I have an Asimov android body controlled by a more or less human brain. That brain is made up of spare parts they had lying around in a neurological wing of a hospital here on earth. Approximately one-half of those spare parts are from a naval commander that lived over a century ago while the other half is from a prostitute that was a whole human even longer ago than that. I became Andrea thanks to some very fine work by one Dr. Delios of that same hospital I mentioned. I was adopted by Secretary Ubutanga in a political expediency move to keep me out of the hands of the scientific researchers and the military. (They wanted to make me into a weapon!)

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Mar 20, 2018
• ISBN: 9781546234197

Richard Allen

    Richard Allen is Chair Professor of Film and Media Art and Dean of the School of Creative Media at City University Hong Kong

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Cyborg In Cygnus

Richard Allen

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© 2018 Richard Allen. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 03/19/2018

ISBN: 978-1-5462-3420-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5462-3419-7 (e)

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and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

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Contents

Chapter 1 Wanted: Dead And Alive

Chapter 2 Ruminations

Chapter 3 Lunar Skullduggery

Chapter 4 The Escape!

Chapter 5 Of Frustration

Chapter 6 The Secretary’s Daughter

Chapter 7 Andrea’s Musings

Chapter 8 Jillian And The Bell Continuum

Chapter 9 Life’s Little Surprises

Chapter 10 Confusion Mixed With Hysteria

Chapter 11 Haste, Confusion, Promotion.

Chapter 12 Clubbies Revisited

Chapter 13 Dr. Jim Develops A Problem

Chapter 14 Andrea’s Decision

Chapter 15 A Different Kind Of Battle

Chapter 16 The Mystery

Chapter 17 Home Again

Chapter 18 Home?

Chapter 19 Ad Astra

Chapter 20 The Others

Chapter 21 If At First You Don’t Succeed …

Chapter 22 One More Time

Chapter 23 Insurgents

Chapter 24 Present And Future Tense

Chapter 25 Vacation??

I

dedicate this book to the person that has been there for me all of my life. My Indomitable Sister Lola. She has made life livable when I was ready to give up and celebrated my few victories. I like to call her my Indomitable Sister only because she is.

1

Wanted: Dead And Alive

D octor! It moved!

Dr. James Weil smiled at his nurse’s comment. ‘When would they learn that one of them couldn’t move?’ He turned toward his patient (#773714), eradicating the smile and donning his professional demeanor. He quickly reviewed the case history in his mind, as he looked toward his extant patient - Female, 33 years old, brain removed for grafting and repair -if possible- of damage incurred during an autoflyer accident, body currently maintained by a motor brain from the library. This particular brain had several grafts during the years of storage and duty. It had been used several times as a motor with no evidence of cognitive function.

Judy, I hope you are wrong about that. After all, it has never happened in the hundred and thirty-seven years we’ve been using this procedure. By the way, how is that new fella of yours? The rumor mill is having a field day and reports are floating around that you may actually go the law-bond route with this one. Come on; fill me in on the real story. What th…… Holy Chaos! It IS moving! Nurse, get me the EEG trace for the last 10 hours, Stat!

Judy thought (not for the first time) how strange it was that this highly skilled and modern surgeon still wanted some things in hard copy. The station comp was ready at the sound of his voice, but no, he had to have the paper in his hand rather than looking at the same thing on the vid screen.

Jim literally snatched the yards of trace from his startled nurse and began to examine it. Everything was normal ten hours ago because he had checked this one just before turning in the night before. He saw no aberrations during the next four hours. Then he saw it. There were definite signs of increased significance in the Delta, Theta, and Beta waves. About two hours ago the Alpha waves came into play with corresponding increasing definition in all others! Hmmmm. Better get a hold of dad on this one. Thank Chaos, he is the Chief of Service and not me! Computer! Find Dr. Richard Weil and inform him that Dr. James Weil needs an immediate consult in this room. Dr. James’ mind was racing with unsociable thoughts. If he could bring this brain to consciousness the experimental potential was boundless! If he did, and the original brain survived, he would be tried for some crime or other and convicted and executed within a week. At least he would be given an extended leave of absence. Still ... I wonder if the brain could integrate the various grafts successfully. Could that brain become a useful member of society? Could it learn and accept that it had memories from ... hmmm how long ago?

He asked for the station comp and called up the chart on the motor brain. He seldom looked past the first page of one. As long as it said that the brain was certified for motor use on the out side, the history contained on the inside was of little interest. The first injury was one hundred seven years ago. Since that time there have been four grafts done, one major and three minor ... more than fifty percent of the brain has been replaced. Wait a minute. What the hell is this? The original biochips on the interfaces of the grafts were replaced with experimental 4 terabit biochips!

In 2108, a descendant of William James, a twentieth century psychologist, with the unlikely and uninspired name of James James, had experimented with increasing the intelligence of rats then monkeys by using the biochips. He discovered that he could repair massive cerebral trauma with transplants using the biochips as interfaces. Since they are powered with electrochemical stimulation from the neurons, they could be used as permanent implants. The biochips could be grown via a biologically neutral medium and when implanted took on the characteristics of surrounding tissue, thus negating the possibility of rejection.

So new and improved four terabit biochips had been used on this otherwise normal motor brain. The results are listed as inconclusive with the note that it remained capable of motor function. It exhibited no apparent improvement over a three-month period of cybernetic and electro-chemical stimulation so it was restored to the motor library with no further action! The idiots! That was two years ago. It has been sitting in nutrient fluid with normal stimulation until used for this caretaker function as of two days ago. Damn! FOUR terras. That’s eight times the normal for a motor brain and four times the standard live brain graft chip. And these biochips had been grown right here at the center.

Jim heard a faint sound behind him and turned a startled face to find his father, Dr. Richard Weil, standing behind him. Dr. Richard Weil was of average height, just a shade over six three, with penetrating, lucent blue eyes and the Weil nose that gave away their Mediterranean heritage. It used to amuse James that he had to explain to people that his multi-great grand sire and founder of the current Weil line was Welsh. Seems all the males in his immediate ancestry including his venerable grandfather were enamored of the Italian female.

Mindful of the monitors, he addressed his father formally. Doctor, we have an anomalous situation occurring with this patient and her motor brain. Here, look at the EEG tracing beginning six hours ago. .… Please, just look at this then I’ll fill you in on the other unusual items that might clear up some of your questions ‘But I’ll bet it brings up a lot more’, Jim thought.

After Jim had finished filling his father in, they decided to check on the progress that the parent brain was making in the CNS grafting lab. This inquiry informed them that there were several hours of programming to do on the biochip interface implant, so there was nothing to do but wait. The motor brain had not reached sentience and there were little if any further changes in the EEG. They decided to do nothing except record the EEG progression with the comment that it might be related to increased stimulation on the electro-chemical level.

It seemed that the life of one chief neurosurgical resident was about to go from dull to ... to what? Adventurous? Well unusual at least. What ever happened to the motor brain of patient #773714 he would have a hand in it. His father had promised him that much.

Jim contacted a friend of his that worked in the Central Nervous Systems (CNS) lab. Since the brain was the central part of the CNS that was where all of the work on cranial trauma cases were done. He needed to be kept up to date on the progress of the brain in question. His chum had told him that there had never been more than a 50-50 chance for this one from the beginning. If that held true there was a good chance that he could do some really original research.

His thoughts returned to patient #771734 throughout the day. He finally sought out his father and asked him to go to dinner that night. It was raining when he met his father at the Medical Club provided by the government for doctors and nurses. Four hundred years had been spent studying weather control and they still didn’t have the bugs worked out. The forecast had promised a cloudless sky tonight. Well, at least they had learned to control hurricanes and tornadoes. Quite an achievement, really.

They ascended to the fifteenth floor restaurant that was reserved for those with a Government Service rating of 20 (GS20) and above. His father qualified. It would be twenty years before he could reach those lofty heights. Unless this new opportunity gave him a significant boost. Well, he could dream a little longer. Until his father put the kibosh on the plan, or the original brain recovered, or the beginnings of sentience in the motor faded again, or any one of several other possible impediments to his plans.

The table the maitre`d led led them to was in a secluded corner. The privacy light glowing unobtrusively. They would not be disturbed by any human. Jim looked over the menu carefully. You could actually get real beef here. Since the cattle herds had been restricted and forced into buildings that collected all of the methane that was so damaging to the ozone, beef was in very limited supply. You had to be a very high GS to afford it. The building and staff were the paid by the government, the food bill was up to the Dr. The place actually showed a small profit each quarter.

His father ordered a surf and turf (with real beef and real lobster!) Jim had the same. They were enjoying a cocktail when both their wrist comps flashed an incoming call at practically the same instant. They activated their earpieces and throat mics to take their calls.

Jim’s friend in the CNS lab told him that the original brain would be ready to place back in the host in about twelve hours. Jim’s dreams shattered with an almost audible sound. He couldn’t believe that he had hoped for the death of one person so that he could attempt to give an unknown a chance at life. He felt an unfamiliar twinge of guilt.

His father looked at him with an amused expression. They told you?

Yes.

"I think you should enjoy your meal and then I will tell you about some comp calls I made today.

What comp calls? I’ve been thinking all day about what to do if the host brain survived. There is no out! If we push this we’ll end up doing unauthorized research using MedCo’s equipment and personnel. The very least that we could expect is to be reduced in rating and probably impeached out of the profession just for good measure.

Cheer up! We’re not finished with this yet. You forget that your father, as a Nobel Prize winner in medicine, is a very famous and well-connected man. I have been making plans and expect to hear any moment about the results. So enjoy this meal. I intend that it be a celebration.

His father refused to say more so the conversation drifted into the mundane.

The lighting was from the latest bio-engineered algae tubes and required no electrical power. The tubes over their table (soft, luminescent blue) tended to relax and soothe the doctors after a long day with patients. The room was a maze of booths with walls around them for privacy. It was said that you could come and go and never see or hear another human except the Maitre d’.

His father was talking about his sister’s work in physics. It appeared that the new line of work was beginning to show results. It was amazing how the field of informational matrix theory of the universe had grown over the last hundred years. It was a field of physics derived from the Bell Continuum that had actually been suggested by a twentieth century futurist and physicist by the name of Greg Bear in a fiction book called Moving Mars. Everybody in the sciences was familiar with the story. His sister was working in the area of descriptor alteration hoping to provide instantaneous travel and communication. It seems that Bear’s imagination had been wrong in several areas, but right in many of the more important ones. It did look as though they might be able to move a fairly large ship to any point in the informational universe then translate it back to normal space time, whatever that meant. At least it would allow people to think about the stars again. If the secret became common knowledge.

After they finally got the limit placed on the terms of politicians and a supreme court that was constrained to strict constructionism of the constitution things began to smooth out. The depression at the turn of the twenty first century and the voters revolt of 2012 and again in 2031 that led to the replacement of over half of the people in both houses of congress had led to a two year concentration on the repeal of laws rather than the enactment of new ones. The Islamic revolt in the early twenty first century had been decisively smashed. The world became a more civilized place. Within sixty years, they had a world government, The United Earth Confederation that was a loose confederation empowered to provide for the common defense, the world court, oversee the World Bank and provide health care for everybody. This gave them the power to fund scientific research for a wide range of endeavors. Based on its own land on and in the Antarctic, and Geneva of course, it was effectively constrained from interfering in the orderly functioning of any of the nation-states with one important exception. Every nation on earth had completely disbanded their war (defense?) departments in favor of the U.E.C. Along with this had gone a pledge of sixty percent of their war (defense?) budget to the U.E.C. This sole contribution had proven sufficient to fund the earth’s new confederation.

The medical profession had gone through a massive upheaval with the new United Earth Confederation. They were all made employees of a completely nonprofit corporation chartered by the Confederation and received generous salaries with good perks and the old system was dead. And surprise, surprise, the corporation was self-sufficient.

Everybody in the world paid the same fees and if they couldn’t pay those fees why then they paid what they could. The doctors did not participate in the setting of those fees or pocket any them. Yet the individual participants could aspire to the good life by simply continuing to learn and performing their jobs with conscience and care. GS rating increases were not easy, but were attainable for the honest and sincere MD. Health care had finally become a universal fact within the reach of all Earth peoples without the unwanted intrusion of government into private lives.

They had finished the main meal and were waiting the dessert and an after dinner drink when Jim decided to broach the subject of patient #773714.

Dad, you’ve kept me sitting on this time bomb long enough. Talk! Jim growled with a smile.

OK! OK! I haven’t received that call yet, but I’ll let you know what I’m planning. I’m sure that you are aware of the Azimov Androids developed in the last century. They are marvelous machines that remain too expensive except for the very rich and some of the world’s larger companies. I hope to use these new four terra biochips to interface this motor brain of yours into one of those bodies and create a truly independent, humaniform cyborg.

Jim was quite literally stunned. The problems with the law had been averted, but the scientific problems had just multiplied by a factor of a thousand. The brain had to sit in nutrient fluid that was replaced like the human body’s. It had to receive the proper electrochemical stimulation, a constant and renewable source of oxygen and endocrine chemicals and and and. .…. Truly mind-boggling. He’d have to get transferred to a pure research team. Hell, he’d have to create a pure research team!

Wait a minute, dad. Just for starters, where are we going to get the android and the permission for this research?

"That is the call I am waiting for. We have just stepped out of the federal matrix and into the world matrix. We are now working directly for the U.E.C..

I hope to be empowered to create any research team that I feel is of significant importance to science and fund it out of discretionary accounts set up for that purpose. If the research proves its worth after a year the UEC Medical Board will take over funding and replace my discretionary account. The people I called can supply a functioning android so we can trace all of the pseudo-neurons and program the biochip interface when we replace the android brain with our human one. I have attempted to convince them that the research is of such vital importance that the android will not cost us a penny. That is what I want for now. I had hoped that they would have a decision by this time, but that hasn’t happened. Sooooo, I arranged a little surprise for you. It is waiting in the foyer right now."

Richard Weil spoke to the table mic asking that the Jim’s surprise be brought to their alcove. It was Ginny. Jim smiled as his father left instructions for the bill be put on his account and that both he and Ginny were to be his guests for the rest of the evening.

Richard turned to the couple and said good night and that they would be talking as soon as he received word.

Ginny sat next to Jim and the social part of the evening began with a warm and passionate kiss. Jim knew he would not have to sleep alone on this night and Ginny was skilled enough that he actually forgot the events of the day and the hopes he held for the future.

His father called with good news at 0431 the next morning. Ginny was still asleep as he left for the hospital. He had no way of knowing that he would see less and less of her during the ensuing months nor that she would end up law-bonded to a member of the most disreputable of so called professions… an attorney for chaos sake!

When he arrived he found that it was time to restore the host brain to patient #773714 and place the motor back in nutrient storage. He hated the thought that this might permanently stop the progress toward sentience; however, this was such a new phenomenon that he knew of nothing that would be better.

It was August 18, 2204, his thirty second birthday and almost seven months after that dinner with his father, that he first spoke to his new female person. They had received the android body of a functional female so she it would be. She had a body that was quite pleasing to the eye and virtually indistinguishable from any human. Approximately 6’ in height with blond hair that would actually need all of the attention of any woman’s. It would grow naturally and was in fact real hair growing from real hair follicles. Her body was slightly less voluptuous than he personally preferred. The face was much prettier than could be described as beautiful with startling hazel eyes that held no sparkle at the moment. There were subtle flaws in it that gave it a look of carefully cultivated character. Her eyes were set just a fraction too wide and her nose was perhaps too long and full. Her lips were perfect according to Jim’s way of thinking; not too wide but pleasantly full. Her teeth were straight and white. No one would guess that they were duralloy with a coating of bonded enamel. Her breasts were a nice 34 C with rather large nipples. He noticed that she was an innie at the navel. The designers were really very thorough. This was a nice female body that would never betray its artificiality by mere stares of passersby.

His patient awoke after a long and tortuous climb to sentience, and spoke the expected and yet very startling first sentence of all people regaining consciousness after a coma, Where am I? Then ... My God, WHO am I. Then the indestructible diamasteel window shattered. This was obviously impossible. Jim and his technician could not help but stare at where the window had been. That window was made of the strongest transparent material known to man. It would stop an armor piercing shell from point blank range.

Jim recovered enough to walk over to his creation with a smile on his face and say, You’re in a hospital and you’re doing fine. You’ve been sick for a very long time, but it looks like you’ll recover completely and be able get up in a few days. I don’t want you to be alarmed at what you see here. You are hooked up to many machines that allow us to monitor your progress and know when you need our help. Now listen to me carefully and let me ask some questions that might seem strange. I need to ask them and you need to answer them carefully and completely. Do you understand?

Where am I? Who am I? What is this place? It doesn’t look like a hospital!

What does a hospital look like? Jim asked in an attempt to stop the flow of panic oriented questions.

I ... I ... I don’t know, came a small and frightened reply. I just seem to remember a hospital room is white and sterile but I also seem to picture a hospital that is very homey with earth tones and pleasant smells. Oh my god, what’s happened to me? I’m so confused. My memory is all mixed up, as if I were several different people all at once. Please, please, please help me. I feel I’m losing control of myself.

The patient lost consciousness. One second she was crying and the next she was asleep. The EEG traces showed the activity of a person who should be awake. She wasn’t.

The patient opened her eyes. What happened? How did I get here? And what the hell happened to my voice!? And just who the hell are you?

I’m Doctor James Weil. You are in an intensive care unit following your accident. Can you tell me your name?

Lieutenant Commander Charles Cameron Blaylock, United Earth Space Force, currently detached, she said with some irritation. What accident? Have you notified my wife that I’m all right? Where is she? And WHERE AM I? I order you to give me some answers!

Sorry, Sir, but you see I am a civilian and you can’t give me an order; however, I am a doctor that has been placed in charge of your case by your superiors and therefore can give you orders that have to do with your medical well being so listen up soldier. My orders are that you calm down and you will be informed after you have answered some questions for me, Commander. Now that that is settled, tell me how you feel. Any pain or disorientation?

Lots of disorientation. I seem to feel the thoughts and emotions of more than just myself, only I don’t really know whom I am. There is some woman around here that is frightened and wants to talk to you. I’m dizzy and lightheaded and have to fight to maintain consciousness. Can you tell me what happened to my voice? I have a good, commanding baritone and this voice sounds downright effeminate.

Jim noted that the voice was getting much weaker and the focus of the eyes seemed to be off. The patient slept again.

Jim put out the call for Dr. Charmaine Delios. The psychiatrist assigned to the case. He was really going to need her here to handle the integration as well as the interrogation of this patient. He has already seen both a male and a female personality. He had looked at the ancient and sketchy records of the two major brain grafts of