A link to one of my stories
What makes humans, human?
The android, designated as WNRV, sat in the control room of its ship as it tumbled lazily through the void of space. The lone occupant had its optical sensors trained on the viewscreen as they had been for the last two weeks. As it always did during such journeys, WNRV watched the stars drift past on the viewscreen and remembered its existence.
Twenty-five centuries ago, WNRV had a different designation, a name: Jhanda. He had been human once and thought about those times. He remembered riding his bike by the wheat farms in the country, out to the hills, where he would lie for hours watching the stars. In his mind, he replayed the dinners with his family or friends and laughing with them. Just a few of the thousands of other events Jhanda could recall, all now electronic patterns in his cyber brain.
Jhanda had lived during the turn of the 22nd century when it appeared that humans had mastered planetary climate, but still had much to learn about stellar life cycles.
It was during this time that the sun cooled dramatically, with little warning. The scientists of the day couldn’t predict how much the sun would cool or for how long. To ensure humanity’s survival, scientists and world leaders devised a plan to reach out to the stars.
Not sure if the nearest exoplanets could support biological life, the first people to reach them would be cybernetic humans. They would take a person’s mind and transfer it to a cyber brain and then connect it to an android body.
Earth built and launched explorer ships with thousands of such people to the nearest exoplanets. But before the first of these explorer ships completed their forty-plus year trip, they received a message from Earth: “Good luck, and godspeed.”
A call from another ship interrupted Jhanda’s respite. “Ore Hauler TQ1, this is Galactic Transport X818. You are tumbling, are you in distress? Please acknowledge.”
Jhanda stood and placed his hand on the control panel so his cyber brain could interface with the ship’s communication system. “Galactic Transport X818, this is Ore Hauler TQ1. All systems are nominal. Currently, attitude controls are turned off. When I reach the alignment corridor to CT-287c, I will reactivate them.”
“Please stabilize. We wish to dock.”
With his cyber brain still connected to the ship’s controls, he activated the attitude controls. In his mind, he saw the readings that the ship’s tumble was coming to a halt and it was orienting itself so the other ship could dock with him.
“Galactic Transport X818, my ship is stabilized, and I am in position to accept docking.”
“Acknowledged. Beginning docking.”
Jhanda left the control room and began walking to the docking port. Once there, he waited for the other ship to dock. A few minutes later, Jhanda registered the vibration as the other ship connected to his ship. Had he been his old biological self, he would have felt nothing.
He put his hand on the monitor panel and watched the airlock go through its cycle of stabilizing the air pressure as the two visitors came aboard. Now that all humans were cybernetic, there was no need for air on spaceships to maintain life. On ships like Jhanda’s, the air was there mostly to minimize volatiles that might be trapped in his cargo.
When the cycle was complete, the doors to the hatch opened for the two visitors. The shorter of the two visitors was a type II, which made Jhanda feel uneasy.
They derived their baseline cyber brain mapping from two type ones, something akin to a biological infant. However, where type Is had anatomically correct bodies, the new type IIs often had arms that were designed differently. They may have a second elbow, elongated upper and lower arms, or longer, supple fingers.
What bothered Jhanda the most about the type IIs, though, was them.
When dealing with his fellow refugees from Earth, he noticed certain body language elements in them. It might be a tilt of the head, a slight turn of the body, or gestures with arms and hands when talking. These little quirks made Jhanda feel comfortable around them.
Type IIs lacked these idiosyncrasies. When dealing with them, Jhanda often felt like he was talking to a manakin as they stayed fixed in their position without moving.
The other was a type IV, whose cyber brain had no direct baselines from a type I.
It stood over two meters tall, with a sphere as a head atop a cylindrical body. At the base of the cylinder was a set of six tentacles that ended in four fingers. These six tentacles served both as its legs and arms.
Where Jhanda felt uneasy around type IIs, IVs set him on edge.
Not only did they not look humanoid and had the same body language deficiency of type IIs, their cold mannerisms, monotone voices, and lack of gender designations made them seem more AI to Jhanda than being descended from humans.
“Welcome aboard the Ore Hauler TQ1. I am WNRV, its operator, but you can call me Jhanda. What can I do for you?” Jhanda said. In the centuries after leaving Earth and the advent of type II and type III cybernetics, and the population soaring into the trillions, people began to use designations rather than names.
The two visitors crossed the threshold of the airlock. “I am AOKD-FOSA-KLDS-EWRN, you may refer to me as EWRN. This is DFOWDP. You are being reassigned. DFOWDP will replace you,” the type IV said in its monotone synthetic voice. It used one of its tentacles to indicate the type II. “Show us the control room.”
Jhanda’s head quickly, but subtly, tilted to one side. “Why am I being replaced? Is my performance below standard?”
“Negative. Your performance has been above expectations. You possess talents that may be useful elsewhere. We can discuss it more once we are aboard Galactic Transport X818.”
“Follow me then,” Jhanda said as he turned and started leading the others to the control room.
The three walked to the control room in silence. When they arrived, EWRN paused before going in. “Are you experiencing some defects, WNRV?”
Jhanda shook his head and said, “No. Is there a problem, EWRN?”
“I believe EWRN is referring to the chair and monitor,” DFOWDP said in a voice that had a feminine tone to it. “They are unnecessary unless you are experiencing some defect.”
When he had a human body, Jhanda would have smiled at this. In his current form, he didn’t have the capacity to smile. He simply turned to the other two. “During trips, I like to sit back and look at the stars. Once I am on course and the engines shut down, I put the ship into a slow tumble so it creates the illusion that the stars are passing by like they did on Earth at night.”
“What astronomical data and insights have you accumulated?” EWRN said in its impersonal voice.
“EWRN, I believe Jhanda is stargazing. Just merely looking at the stars and possibly finding pictures or shapes in them. My parents tried to teach me something similar with clouds,” DFOWDP said. “I rarely saw anything other than clouds, though.”
“You are correct,” Jhanda said with a nod of his head.
EWRN entered the control room saying, “Standard star registries should be sufficient.”
“Proceed with the transfer of command,” EWRN said as it walked to the control panel and placed one of its tentacles on the panel. Jhanda and DFOWDP followed its lead. A second after all three had touched the panel, they stepped back.
“DFOWDP, the ship is now yours. WNRV, please come with me.”
Jhanda turned to DFOWDP and extended his hand. “I wish you the best.”
“Thank you. I will endeavor to continue to operate this ship in a satisfactory manner, Jhanda,” DFOWDP said, not acknowledging Jhanda’s outstretched hand.
EWRN and Jhanda made their way back to the airlock, leaving DFOWDP in the control room. During their walk and the processing through the airlock, neither said a word.
Once aboard the X818, EWRN led Jhanda to a room towards the interior of the ship. Unlike his ship, which only had a control room, engine room, cargo holds and a couple of utility rooms, the GT-X818 had far more compartments. EWRN opened the door and asked Jhanda to step inside.
As he entered, Jhanda saw three other type Is standing in the center of the room. They were conversing among themselves as they were facing each other and making gestures with their arms and hands.
Along one wall was part of a cybernetic maintenance pod and various monitors and other pieces of equipment.
Seeing Jhanda enter the room, one of the three individuals looked at Jhanda and said in a feminine tone, “Welcome. Are you WNRV, Jhanda Chadda?”
The type I stepped towards Jhanda and extended a hand. “I am Doctor Agrina Rubene, and this is Doctor Desa bin Demak, and Doctor Nicola Roy.” As Doctor Rubene named her colleagues, she tilted her head towards each one. Doctor bin Demak and Doctor Roy then stepped forward, and the three took turns shaking Jhanda’s hand.
“It is a pleasure to meet you all,” he said. “Can you tell me what is going on? EWRN said I was being reassigned because of talents I possess that may be useful elsewhere and it has been centuries since I’ve been in the company of more than one other type I at a time.” When Jhanda shook hands with Doctor bin Demak, he noticed engraved on his chest plate was, “I am not a designation, I am a name.”
Doctor Roy nodded his head. On his chest plate, he had stenciled “Hello, My Name is Nicola Roy.”
“I can completely comprehend that. It has been ten years since I interacted with another person, face to face.”
“Mr. Chadda, if you would step over to the table, we will explain,” Doctor bin Demak said, indicating the maintenance pod.
“Thank you EWRN. Unless you have something to add, you may go. We will call you if we need anything,” Doctor Roy said to the type IV who still hovered at the doorway.
Closing the door, it said, “Understood.”
Jhanda looked back over his shoulder and watched the door obscure EWRN as it slid closed. He then stepped over to the maintenance pod. As he entered the open pod and leaned back, he said, “Is there something wrong with me?”
“No,” Doctor Rubene said. “You are a candidate for a very special project. One that will have a long-lasting impact on what is left of humanity. Now turn your head away from me.” Jhanda did as instructed and soon felt an interface cable being attached to the base of his head.
When the cable connected, Jhanda had expected his sensory inputs to decrease, as if to prepare for maintenance or hibernation. Instead, their levels remained constant.
“We have a good connection,” Doctor Roy said. “How are you feeling, Mr. Chadda?”
Jhanda turned his head and looked straight ahead. “Everything seems to be normal. Are you sure you have a good connection?”
Doctor Rubene looked up from the control board she had her hand on. “Quite sure. The data link is to watch and monitor how your brain functions, so you aren’t having the same sensations you would expect if a checkup was being done.”
“Everything is ready. Doctor Roy, if you would disable his motor controls. Mr. Chadda, we are going to ask you a series of questions and to perform tasks. Please respond as quickly as possible. There are no right or wrong answers. Doctor Rubene, ladies first, please.”
The feed from his optic sensors was turned off and replaced with a simulation of a plain white room. The three doctors began asking Jhanda a series of bizarre and unrelated questions in a rapid fire: What is the sound of a rose? What does the moon smell like? Does Grieg’s music taste sweet or sour?
Interspersed with these questions, they asked him to play childhood games like checkers or go fish. They even asked him to build and draw items with the materials they provided in the simulated room. Sometimes they were specific about what to make, like the Taj Mahal. Other times, it was abstract, such as a feeling of peace.
After an indeterminate amount of time and questions, Doctor Roy said, “We have one last test to perform. We’re going to shut down all inputs to your brain and just record what happens. No need to be alarmed.”
Everything for Jhanda went dark and silent, and he let his mind drift.
In his mind, he saw visions of farms in India as he rode his bike to one of his favorite places to look up at the stars. He thought he smelled the fresh cut wheat and heard the threshers in the fields.
This vision changed as he was now looking down on a large stretch of grassland with a herd of deer grazing. In the corner of his eye, he spied a tiger just entering the grass from the treeline. The tiger looked odd as its fangs scraped the ground and its paws looked like flippers.
He snapped out of this state suddenly when he heard Doctor Rubene say, “Okay, that does it. We’re re-enabling your sensory inputs.”
While Jhanda’s sensory inputs came back online, he felt a series of sensations that he had not felt in centuries. Not since he had a biological body. He felt like he was waking up.
“That was unusual, doctor. It was almost like…” he said.
“You were dreaming? You were,” Doctor Rubene said.
Jhanda looked at the doctor while he tried to comprehend what she just said.
“Doctor bin Demak and Doctor Roy are verifying everything, but it looks like you are a suitable candidate to be one of humanity’s saviors.”
“Humanity’s savior? How? Aren’t we practically immortal?”
Doctor Rubene shook her head. “No, we’re not. There were over ten million of us who left Earth. After twenty-five centuries, there are slightly over nine and a half million of us left. Even at that rate, we would all be gone at some point.”
“Though theoretically we are immortal as cybernetics, only those of us from Earth have any real creativity. Type III and type IVs can out think us, but they lack inspiration. It was our ideas that they took and made tremendous advances on. But without us, they can only improve on things, not create. We are asking those who can transition back to biological bodies to do so and have children and to hopefully ensure our survival.”
“There seems to be something about growing up with a biological brain that is conducive to creativity. Something not yet discovered. Type IIs have some imagination, but even that pales to our own.”
“And it appears that imagination is tied to empathy and personal feelings. That is why some of us view the others as more machine than human.”
Jhanda looked at the doctor in silence, letting all this sink in.
“We have a copy of your DNA. When and if you are selected, we will engineer you a new body, based on your old one, and transfer your mind to it. We can even make you a woman if you’d like.”
“If I’m accepted, I’ll do it. I’m curious to see what the stars are like on Earth now.”
“You won’t be going to Earth. It isn’t quite ready for us to go home yet. Our new home will be SH-108e, also known as Tellus or Earth II. With a copy of the Global Genome Project database we brought with us from Earth, we are trying to make Tellus a copy of Earth.”
“Think hard about your decision, though. The human mind doesn’t appear to survive multiple transfers to and from biological brains.”
Jhanda nodded his head. “I don’t have to think about it. To see the stars, to actually talk to someone and touch them. Just to be my old self again, that is enough to convince me.”
Doctor Rubene reached out and took Jhanda’s hand in her own. “Then I will let the others know, and we’ll get a maintenance pod ready for you.”
An hour later, Jhanda was in a maintenance pod and placed into stasis for the journey to Tellus.
Jhanda didn’t know how long he was in stasis. Normally, when in stasis, nothing transpired in the months or years he was in stasis. As someone described it, it was like you didn’t exist for years or decades at a time.
This time, it was different.
He was sitting on a blanket, looking up at the stars, describing the constellations to children he didn’t recognize. The children sat around him listening and their eyes were as big as saucers, and the more he talked, the bigger their eyes got.
Jhanda then reached up and plucked the star Atlas from the sky. As he did this, he heard The Pleiades, the Seven Sisters, giggle. It mixed with the exclamations of excitement from the children as he handed the star to the children to pass around and look at.
While the children were marveling at the star, one of them said they were thirsty. Looking around, Jhanda saw the Little Dipper. He grabbed it by the handle and pulled it down so the children could take turns drinking from it.
He was enjoying what he was doing when things started going dark. He thought he heard something. Not the interpretation of sounds that he was so familiar with, but actual sounds. On his extremities, there was a sensation that reminded him of something poking him.
“What is happening?” he tried to ask, but all he heard was a drawn-out moan.
In response, he felt pressure on his left hand. Not something pressing against his hand, but he could feel the structure of his hand shift slightly under a gentle squeeze and it felt warm.
Jhanda heard an odd voice say, “Mr. Chadda, I’m Doctor Sanie Osman. Everything is fine. You are in hospital and just finished undergoing transference. Just relax and rest. Nurse Turner, please stay with him and call me when he wakes up.”
“Yes, Doctor,” came a reply just before Jhanda lost consciousness again.
He didn’t know how long he had been out when he woke up again and was experiencing a host of strange sensations. When his optics came online, he realized he wasn’t seeing things with artificial photoreceptors, but he was seeing things as he did when he was a biological human.
When he tried to look around, he could only make out vague shapes in the darkness that surrounded him.
Again he tried to ask, “What is happening?” but only managed a slurred groan.
“One second, Mr. Chadda,” an artificial voice said in reply. He heard the clacking of metallic feet on the floor coming towards him. When it stopped, he felt something that he could only describe as a hum in his head, like some electronic device that was switched on.
“How do you feel, Mr. Chadda?”
“Strange,” in his slurred speech. At the same time, an artificial voice that seemed to have no gender echoed his words.
“That is normal. Excuse me while I call Doctor Osman.” There was a moment of silence before the voice said, “The Doctor says for you to lie still and she will be in shortly to see you.”
“Where am I? What is happening? Who are you?”
“I am Nurse Turner, but you can refer to me as Al. Currently, you are in hospital. I’ll let Doctor Osman explain the rest when she gets here. Do you need a blanket? You seem cold.”
When Nurse Turner said ‘cold,’ Jhanda suddenly made sense of one of the strange sensations he was experiencing. “Yes, please,” he said.
A moment later, he felt something warm draped across his body, weighing it down. The weight was not massive, but it felt like it kept Jhanda from moving and felt comforting.
Jhanda spent several minutes trying to sort out these new sensations he was experiencing when a door opened up and a blinding light flooded in. The intensity of the light was so strong that it caused Jhanda to jerk and close his eyes.
He heard the door close and a woman’s voice say, “Mr. Chadda, I’m Doctor Osman. How are you feeling?” After Doctor Osman finished her question, he heard a series of claps he couldn’t identify coming towards him.
“I feel strange. What is going on?”
Doctor Osman said, “You are in hospital. You underwent transference. Right now, your brain is trying to make sense of new sensations. Much like when you became a cybernetic. I’ve turned the lights up just a little. Can you open your eyes and look around?”
Slowly, Jhanda opened his eyes again. The room was dark, but not as dark as it was before, and his vision was still blurry. It was hard to make out details in the dim light with eyes that were learning to focus. He could make out two figures in the room. The one by his head had a humanoid shape, but didn’t move and seemed to have something on its head and something draped over its body.
The other, who was on the other side of the room, also looked humanoid from the waist up. The lower part seemed to be a mix of legs and a rectangular frame. It was holding on to the frame as it walked towards Jhanda.
“Are you having a bad day, Doctor Osman, or did you overdo it, again?” the figure at the side of Jhanda’s bed said. Looking at the figure by his bed when it spoke, Jhanda realized it was Nurse Turner. In his mind, he envisioned a type II wearing an ancient nurse’s outfit, complete with cornett.
Jhanda chuckled as he said, “Doctor Osman, please tell me Nurse Turner isn’t wearing a nurse’s uniform.”
Jhanda felt a sensation on his hand again like before. Doctor Osman was now sitting beside him, holding his hand. Being so close, Jhanda could make out she had a dark complexion and with her hair pulled back on her head.
She responded with her own laugh. “Yes, Nurse Turner is wearing a 1950s nurse’s dress, complete with a cornett. He does that to help patients relax around him.”
“A dress? Why not pants or traditional scrubs?”
Nurse Turner turned to face Chanda. “The cornett helps identify my position here, and I prefer the dress. Also, when I am in the nursery, the children seem to like to reach up and pull on the hem. Dr. Crabtree says it is good exercise for them.”
It then turned to the doctor and said, “You did not answer my question, Doctor.”
“I am fine Al, I’ve just been on my feet all day. That is why I have my walker. How is his condition?”
Looking closer and trying to focus his eyes on Doctor Osman, Jhanda could make out a black handle to her side.
“His vital statistics are nominal. He was suffering from involuntary muscle contractions earlier and a decrease in skin temperature. I thought he might have been cold, so I provided him with a blanket. The muscle contractions have ceased.”
“You should get some rest, Doctor,” Nurse Turner said.
Doctor Osman turned to face Jhanda and said, “He can be such a worrywart at times. Did the blanket help, Mr. Chanda?”
Jhanda tried to sit up, but found that his arms would hardly move. “Yes, but why is it so hard to move?”
Doctor Osman nodded her head as she said, “Even though you now have the body of a twenty-two-year-old, your mussels have never been used and your brain has to build neural pathways to fully control them. You can’t even talk without the halo on. In many ways, it’s like you are a baby again. But not to worry, a few months of physical therapy and you’ll be able to do tasks on your own.”
“Even then, you’ll need at least a year of therapy to be back to your old self. I transitioned back about fourteen months ago and still don’t have my full stamina back yet. But everyday I get a little stronger.”
After a few deep breaths, Jhanda said, “When will I be able to go outside?”
Doctor Osman smiled at Jhanda and patted his hand. “We’ll see about taking you to the sunroom in a few days. Your body needs a little time to adjust first.”
Jhanda’s head sank back into the pillow. “Okay, Doctor.”
“Why don’t you have some dinner and get some sleep? I’ll see you in the morning before your first therapy session.” She gave Jhanda’s hand a quick pat before she grasped her walker and made her way across the room.
After the doctor had left, Nurse Turner fed Jhanda a shake of yogurt and bananas.
Initially, Jhanda had refused, saying he wanted something with more substance to it, but allowed Nurse Turner to feed him some.
After three spoonfuls, Jhanda learned the full gravity of Doctor Osman’s comment of “it’s like you are a baby again.” More of his dinner ran out of his mouth than he could swallow, causing Nurser Turner to use the spoon to scrape the overflow.
At Jhanda’s request, Nurse Turner told him about Tellus. He told him that shortly after its discovery a millennium and a half ago; they decided to terraform the planet. And when the argument that they needed biological humans to save humanity, they selected Tellus to be the first colony.
“Is there anything in particular you are looking forward to doing?” Nurse Turner asked, while washing Jhanda’s face after dinner.
Jhanda smiled as he said, “Falling asleep while laying down outside and looking up at the stars.”
As he was looking up at the ceiling, it changed from the flat white to an image of a night sky. “What is this? Is this Tellus?” Jhanda asked.
“Yes, it is. I thought, since you wished to fall asleep looking at the stars, I would show you a view of the stars here.”
Jhanda shook his head a little. “Not quite what I had in mind. But all things considered, Al, this isn’t bad at all. Are you going to stay?”
“Yes, as you are my assigned patient for the next year. Why do you ask?”
“I always enjoyed looking at the stars with someone else,” Jhanda said after a few deep breaths. He described to Al the patterns he was seeing in the stars.
Starting the next morning after breakfast, Jhanda went through his first rounds of physical therapy. He had never thought simple things such as moving his legs while laying in a bathtub or just opening and closing his mouth could be so exhausting, but when he was done, all he wanted to do was sleep.
He could see tangible results from his hard work. By the end of the week, he was now eating more than what was being pushed out of his mouth and turn his head on his own.
One evening, Jhanda heard the unmistakable sound of thunder through the walls of the hospital while he was eating dinner.
Once he had finished eating and Al had helped him change clothes, Al asked, “Mr. Chanda, would you mind helping with a minor issue this evening?”
Jhanda’s eyes narrowed as he half chuckled, “What issue, Al? I don’t know how much help I can be.”
“This hospital also serves as a daycare for children whose parents are working at night. The storm outside is frightening the children and Nurse Soto is having difficulty getting them to settle down and go to sleep. Dr. Osman suggested bringing them in here with you to star gaze. She had been planning this as a surprise for you when you have more stamina. She says it as good of a time as any, if you are feeling up to it.”
A huge smile came across Jhanda’s face. “I would absolutely love to help. But do you have any hot chocolate for the kids?”
Nurse Turner was silent for several minutes as it finished helping Jhanda change clothes. “Sorry, I was talking with Dr. Osman and Nurse Soto. No hot chocolate for the children, but Dr. Osman prescribed warm milk and biscuits for them. Please excuse me while I assist Nurse Soto.”
“I will be back shortly,” Nurse Turner said as it left the room. Before leaving, Nurse Turner activated the sky view and Jhanda settled in, looking at the stars.
A few minutes later, Nurse Turner returned with another type II. Nurse Turner was wheeling in a bed while the other type II was leading three children by the hand into the room. The oldest child looked to be five, and they were all dressed in pajamas.
When they entered the room, Nurse Turner said, “Mr. Chanda, this is Tarra, Carlos and Jonel.” He pointed to each of the children as it said their names. “Children, this is Mr. Chanda.”
Jonel, who appeared to be the youngest of the three, clutched the other type II’s leg and used it to hide from Jhanda. “Children, say hello to Mr. Chanda,” the type II said in a distinctive feminine voice.
“Hello, Mr. Chanda,” two of the children said while Jonel looked down and shook his head.
“And this is Nurse Soto. She is assigned to the daycare.”
“Good evening Mr. Chanda. I hope we are not disturbing you.”
Jhanda smiled and said, “No, not at all. I like to have company when I look up at the stars.”
Hearing stars, the children looked up at the ceiling and noticed the star view. “Why do you look up at the stars, Mr. Chanda?” Tarra asked.
“I like to see the patterns they make and think of the stories people made up about them. Why don’t you three get up in your bed and get settled and I’ll show you some of them. Nurse Turner, when you get a moment, can you show us the stars of Earth?”
