Episode 5: Star
Dedicated to Kat who taught me the price of perfection oh
so many years ago

"We are not the droids you are looking for" - Lexa Doig
does a tribute to Obi Wan Kenobi in Jin Rodenberry's
Andromeda

It was beginning to end. The self-recharging battery was
full, sending signals to the core brain unit. I initiated
the scanning and triangulation systems, checking my body and
positioning myself in time-space. In truth, it was not very
different from the normal human brain process of waking up.
First your brain sets the answers to simple but important
questions such as "Where am I? What am I doing here? And why
is there a stranger in my bed?". Once the scan was complete,
I have opened my eyes. The sun was already out but I had the
urge to laze a bit in bed. I had no hurries this morning. I
put my hand on the cat's head and patted him.
Jenkins stared at me with blaming eyes. "You brought someone
into my bed," his eyes claimed, "that was not the deal!".
I couldn't help but snigger softly at this stare. Next to
me, Dylan was snoring softly. I closed my eyes and thought
back on last night. There was so much fear, right there. So
much anxiety.
I was sure he'll bolt and run for it. I was sure he would
accuse me of deceit, treachery. But after staring at my
mechanic insides for a short moment that seemed to take
hours, he blinked and spoke heavily. "I'm not a very smart
man," he said, despite the fact that I knew he's much
smarter than one would expect of a space marine, "but I know
one thing. I've been around machines all my life and no
matter what your insides look like, you are no machine".
I cried then, proving him right. A machine can't cry. But a
living being, capable of emotion surges, can cry. That my
tear glands were cybernetic implants, not flesh and blood,
was of little consequence. I didn't control them. I could
control them, if I tried. But I never did. Tears were often
a result of an emotional surge and I found them relieving.
It made no sense but then, emotions seldom do. Hugging him
after that felt like some burden has been lifted off me. I
felt light, elated. I'm not sure either of us actually
intended to get as far or as deep as we got but I was
already without my shirt and the elation easily bypassed any
hesitations I might have had otherwise. When I was given
this body, the 6th body I have had during my life, I have
requested and was cleared for a body capable of the full
sensory rainbow a human body can have. That, naturally,
included the addition of sensor clusters inside my feminine
parts. After last night I finally knew why humans could
become so obsessed with sexual intercourse. The pleasure
was... out of this world. And even though I lacked the
biological instincts of mating and motherhood, when Dylan
reached his peak inside me, there was a sudden feeling of
completeness, of a bond that was beyond words, beyond
physical contact. I wondered how the media would react when
they'd learn about this. I could nearly picture XCC, Earth's
number 1 tabloid's headline, "Human to the last: Digi has
orgasms!". I sniggered softly to myself and then forced
myself to stop lazing around. "You'll get as fat as the
cat," I scolded myself as I forced myself to leave the
warmth of my bed.

The cooking smells of breakfast drew Dylan into the kitchen.
Wearing only boxers, he stood at the entrance, watching me
as I cooked. I allowed myself a moment to admire his
sculpted body. It was like watching a work of art. It made
want to jump on him. I fought down the urge and said, "Good
morning, sweetheart. Have a sit. Breakfast would be ready in
a moment".
He came closer and I turned to kiss him. He returned my
kiss, his hands holding me tight. At that moment, I felt so
complete. For a moment we just stood there, man and woman,
one. Then, I forced myself to separate from him.
"I made scrambled eggs and bacon, there's cheese, toasts and
butter. There's coffee and juice too," I said, somewhat
embarrassed by the fact that at that moment I wanted nothing
more than to remain in his grip forever.
"Why do you eat?" he asked, curious.
I couldn't help but smile. Food is more than fuel. It is a
pleasure to be savored. Three times a day, preferably. "Not
to charge my body, if that's the question," I replied, "I'm
working on Fusion-core batteries. Self-recharging. I eat for
the taste, my love. The taste. Happiness can be found even
in the taste of a single slice of cheese".
"So all the A.I. rumors are true," he observed as I served
breakfast.
I shook my head. "There is no A.I." I replied, taking my
seat, "but the rumors are not completely baseless. There was
a Digital Sentience in Strat-Comm. Me".
"So it's you we ought to thank for the victory, eh?" he
winked while I spread butter over my toast.
I shrugged. "I was just a cog in the machine," I replied.
"It's not like I drew the plans from A to Z. Far from it.
While my brain has all the good attributes of a computer, I
am not the omniscient computer people always thought A.I.
are. My real advantage in Strat-Comm was that I offered a
different perspective. I was the special teams coordinator,
if you wish. I came up with things that most people simply
won't bother to think about. More than half of them ended up
in the recycle bin, just for your information".
"But you did a good job," he noted while I indulged myself
with the scrambled eggs, "so good that people started
talking".
"Actually most of them didn't know I'm not human to the very
end," I replied evenly, "but of course, people are now
talking. Admiral Wilford made sure they would".
"I don't follow," he replied.
"The rumors start behind the admiral's desk," I sniggered,
"It's part of a well-conceived plan to integrate the
existence of Digital Sentience into the public
consciousness".
"Why not just say it out loud?" Dylan wondered.
"Well, seems like the cat is offering a truce," I observed
as Jenkins jumped up to Dylan's lap, giving him that beggar
look, "give him some cheese and he'll forgive your intrusion
into what he conceives as his own kingdom. Anyways, you must
consider the Frankenstein Paranoia effect".
"The what?" Dylan shook his head.
"People are afraid of what's different. That works even
worse when we're talking a so called 'golem'. Frankenstein's
monster, the A.I., you name it.... We're talking about
frightened mobs full of superstitions. Saying: 'we have
created a Digital Sentience' would have cause mass hysteria,
possible resentment. Hell, computer simulations have
predicted a 72.6% chance that some religious zealot would
try to do something stupid because I was 'an abomination
unto god'. I doubt that explaining that I am a believer
myself would actually serve to save my abominable neck from
being cut if this was the case".
"You're a believer?"  he shook his head in amazement.
"Why not?" I retorted, "I have seen many things one can't
explain. How the Orions have such physical resemblance to
the humans of Earth, for example? I sense we are not alone
in this universe. So yes, I am a believer".
"Wow," Dylan shook his head, "the more I know of you, the
more I am amazed".
I leaned over the table towards him. "How amazed?" I asked,
adding just a pinch of seduction to my voice, "enough to
join me in the shower where you could.... Study... me?".


"Will this complicate things?" I asked Admiral Wilford.
The Admiral puffed on his cigar, musing about what I told
him. I did my best to ignore the smell. My sense of smell
could analyze the cigar smoke and determine its exact
composition, level of toxins and so on. However, when not
employed, I could determine the smoke in one word. Stinky.
"It doesn't complicate things," he replied finally, "in
fact, it's only for good.. I can see it all along the
headlines: 'Digi in love: a human heart pumps inside the
biocybernetic body'. Do you think Dylan would mind joining
in our plan?".
I shook my head. "I wouldn't know," I said, "I'll have to
ask him. What did you have in mind?".
The admiral smiled his wolfish smile. "I have a cunning
plan..." he said.

The doorbell was like a salve on an itching mosquito bite. I
was anxious, true, but the waiting had only made it worse.
"Could you get the door, honey?" I called out, just high
enough to be heard by the man standing behind the door. As
orchestrated, Dylan opened the door and admitted XCC's Eric
Lindstrauss, leading him to the living room while I finished
setting the coffee table. "I hope you don't mind that my
boyfriend is here," I told him after exchanging a few
pleasantries, "this is my first one-on-one with a reporter.
I'm excited".
Lindstrauss shook his head with that curved half smile that
was his trademark. His eyes looked at me as a hunter looks
at a prey - He was about to blindside me with a surprising
new information, one he has acquired not an hour ago.
Officially he came here for the monthly interview about
Space Corps. expenditures. The taxpayers wanted to know
their money goes to good causes. However as we sat, he drew
a datapad and passed it over to me. "What's this?" I played
coy.
"Captain Sanders," he smiled his crooked smile, "XCC's
sources have given us this classified document that
documents a project called 'Project Eve' to create a
Digitally Sentient machine. It details in 300 pages exactly
the same principals you have lately summarized in Science
Weekly. It goes as far as even using the term 'Slaps and
Cookies', the same term you have used. How long would Space
Corps. continue to deny the existence of this Digital
Sentience?"
Time for a limp attempt to dodge the question. "I..." I took
a deep breath, allowing my lower lip to tremble slightly, "I
am not in liberty to discuss classified information".
"So you're saying that this document is real and therefore
you are not in liberty to discuss it?" Eric pressed.
"No," I pushed the question aside, "even discussing whether
or not such a project exists is illegal".
"Captain Sanders, two weeks ago you have told me directly
that there was no A.I. in Strat-Comm during the war.
However, in Science Weekly you have set a very clear line
between the A.I. and the Digitally Sentient Machine. Was
there a Digital Sentience in Strat-Comm?".
"This discussion is pointless," I retorted in what was a
too-obvious attempt to dodge, "if I said there wasn't one,
you wouldn't believe me. If there was one, I wouldn't be
allowed to say it".
"Give me a break," Eric pressed, "there is a Digitally
Sentient Machine, isn't there?".
"Eric, I cannot answer that question to your satisfaction.
However, a Digital Sentience would transcend the definition
of machine. There is not Digitally Sentient Machine. A
theoretical Digi would be a live creature".
"Let's discuss this 'theoretical Digi', please," Eric sensed
an opening. It was called the 'If I could talk without
restriction' syndrome in which interviewees wanted to reveal
what they knew and were looking for a safe channel to do so.
"Let's assume this theoretical Digi was to exist. Wouldn't
its core be a machine?"
"Certainly not," I replied, "the Starlions quarterback, Matt
Kinsy, has thrown over a thousand yards this year and 17
touchdowns. His right arm has been replaced after a massive
airspeeder accident and is now a biocybernetic arm. Would
anyone mistake this gifted quarterback to be a machine? Of
course not. We're talking about the same thing. The body may
be a biocybernetic one but in truth, there would be a live
consciousness inside that body. It would not be 'human'
perhaps, but it would be a live being".
"And do you think such Digital Sentience could be
mass-produced?"
"Certainly not," I shook my head, "It would take years to
grow a Digital Sentience into so-called maturity. Each such
unit would need parents, if you wish. It would need to live
its life".
"But couldn't one be grown and then have its brain unit
copied to other empty brains?" asked Eric.
"No," I shook my head, "while it sounds theoretically
possible, it is likely that the Digi's brain would become so
complex during its growth that any attempt to copy it would
be as successful as an attempt to copy the contents of a
human mind".
"Would you mind if I asked a few personal questions now?" he
suddenly changed the subject, "our readers have expressed
interest in you".
"Me?" I smiled, "there's not much about me that would
interest anyone," I said, "I was born to a pair of Science
Corps. scientists in the Pasadena Science Complex, where I
spent my first two years. I've traveled a lot as you can
imagine. My parents were transferred from one facility to
another and me with them. I was home-schooled  instead of
going to elementary school, learned in the 17th Street
Junior High in Boston, the Princess Diana High School in
London and did my Bachelor's at Space Corps. College in
Venus High Orbit astrocolony. Then, I joined the Corps."
"What is your Bachelor's in?" he asked on.
"Mammal Zoology," I smiled, "I always had a soft spot for
animals of all kinds. I wanted to know more. My dream is to
study Veterinary Medicine and become a Vet." I admitted.
"Thank you, Captain Sanders," Eric smiled.
"Please," I put my arm over Dylan who sitting quietly the
whole time, "call me Gail".
"Gail," Eric smiled again, "now, about Space Corps.
Expenditures. Is it true that 100 Million Dollars are going
to be diverted to the production of two new frigates of the
costly 'Bill Gates' class?".

It was the first time I read XCC in three years. As an
adolescent, XCC was my guru, my guiding star, like any
average adolescent. XCC was the most popular tabloid in the
solar system, read by literally billions of people everyday.
It could make a star as easily as it could break one. And
today, I was being made a star! The Vidpage, containing
photos of me on the press stand and in Science Weekly. The
short bio I provided Eric was there, as well as a comment of
a High School class mate, Mandy McGrath, who recalled me as
"that funny girl that used to pull tricks on the Physics
teacher". How quaint. A short paragraph about Dylan was also
present, saying that the young couple seems to be in love
and on its way to a happy relationship - a normal phrase XCC
used whenever they didn't have anything juicy to put in. I
put my hand on Jenkins. The cat seemed oblivious to my
excitement. It was almost time, I knew. Almost. The hardest
part about it would be this last week before finally Admiral
Wilford and I go on the press stand and admit, in details,
that there is a Digital Sentience. No, she doesn't harbor
any "overthrow thy masters" thoughts. No, she's not a
machine. Oh, she's very human actually. She likes cheese,
has a cat, is in love. You know her, in fact. Here she is,
ladies and gentlemen of the media. Gail Sanders. Our Digital
Sentience.

I was going to be a real star, I knew it in my bones. They
won't resent me. Not now, when they already know me. Not
when they were already led to understand that a Digi is not
Frankenstein's Monster. Then, finally, Admiral Wilford would
be able to award me with the United Nations' Medal Of Honor
and I could do what I have dreamed to do for three years
now... Retire from the Corps. and become a civilian.  

Ehud Gat,
09-10.02.07