Pando, Part One - Though We Are Many

Vista previa gratuita

Pando, Part One - Though We Are Many

A short story by Ryan Cartwright - CC:By-SA

By Ryan Cartwright

The Pando Project

Published: Jun 2015

Publisher: Crimperbooks (crimperbooks.co.uk)

Categories: Ages-9-and-up, Short-stories, Audio

Original URL: https://www.crimperbooks.co.uk/short-stories/though-we-are-many/

License: Licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International (CC-BY-SA 4.0).

You are free to share, copy, distribute and adapt this material under the same license terms.

Pando, Part One - Though We Are Many

This science fiction short story is aimed at ages 9 and up. It is Part One of a larger story but is self-contained and, so far, is the only part to be published

Audio Edition

<>

This story has been recorded as an audio by Boring Dad Sleep Stories over on YouTube. You can Find it here and don’t forget to give his channel a visit Boring Dad Sleep Stories

This is another brilliant reading of one of my stories and I highly recommend it. It captures the atmosphere of the story really well. This was one of my first attempts at a “grown up” story after the Roboteers so to see it still capturing imagination some ten years later s humbling.

Unlike many Youtube videos it has no adverts before after or during the recording and the video is just a black screen making it perfect for bedtime.

The image on the screen shimmered and gradually came into focus, a side-effect of the ancient display she was using rather than the distance of the broadcast. Cheap or efficient: you can have one but not both, that was the rule. Gradually the blurred shape on the screen began to resemble a face - one she recognised and expected.

“Hi.” She said before it became entirely clear.

“Hi.” came the reply. “I’m sending the ID code now.” The code flashed up on her display, her fingers keyed in the response before she even realised. Muscle memory. Behind her host was the logo of the agency with its bold strapline declaring “Though we are many, we are one. We are never alone.”. It was a phrase that always gave her the creeps given the agency’s tendency for surveillance.

“Are we alone?” she wondered aloud.

“Not entirely.” her host smiled in reply even though it was a rhetorical question.

“I don’t see the idents.” she glanced at the top left but could see no indication of anyone monitoring the communique.

“They voted to stop using them last year.”

“Of course they did.” she said without an ounce of surprise in her voice. “So who is it this time?”

“Oh the usual, plus a few friends from the Academy.”

“I’ll remember to watch my language then.” That got her a smile. The face was entirely in focus now. It looked older, greyer, kind of wilted. Is that how she appeared? There were - deliberately - no mirrors on board so she relied on reflections in displays to see how she appeared. Through a glass darkly. She smiled at the thought.

“They’re getting this as a delayed feed. We can overdub any unsuitable parts.” her host smiled back. “We’d best get the official stuff out of the way.” the corners of her host’s mouth creased as she spoke. Did her own do that?

“How old are we now?” she wondered, again without realising it had been out loud. When you spent so much time alone you lost track of which thoughts were spoken.

“Sorry, what?”

“Oh, I er, lose track of time out here. I was wondering how old we are now?”

“Ah, that’s classified. We can’t talk about that now - given our esteemed guests at the academy are listening.”

“I thought the professors all had level 3?”

“They do. This is being broadcast to the third year bio-tech students.”

“Third year? They do three years of that stuff now?”

“This is the first class to do it. The field is expanding at an alarming rate. Listen we’d better get the official stuff done.” the expression on the screen indicated her host would have rather continued the conversation but had been prompted to repeat the request.

She nodded, “Sorry, just glad to be talking to somebody. You know how it is.”

“Yeah, I understand.” Her host said but they both knew that this project was designed so hosts had little chance of understanding. The project leaders had no desire for hosts to have any idea of the loneliness and isolation. Why would they? Hosts got to spend at least some of their time away from the job. That meant they were able to have conversations, face-to-face ones, with people, not through screens. That meant they got to live. Why would they want the host to know what the remotes had by comparison? Granted, a host’s life would be nothing like what most people had but at least hosts got to experience things first-hand, as they happened, rather than having those experiences uploaded to their mind as they slept. Her host continued. “Since the last communique with you we’ve dispatched 73 memories, 33 skill sets and 12 experiences. Do you confirm?”

“Well I didn’t count them all but I woke with a smile on my face. We enjoyed the theatre trip last month then?”

“Do you confirm? Please respond accordingly.” her host didn’t even look up.

“I confirm.” she sighed. There was no fun left in the world anymore.

“Please confirm the last update ID streamed to you.”

She checked the logs before her. “Confirmed last stream ID was two-seven-alpha-one-zero. Wait that can’t be right?”

“It’s right but since you ask -“

“I didn’t.”

“Since you ask,” the host continued, “we have one more update for you and that will be done manually as part of this communique.”

“You can do that? You can update me while I’m awake?”

“Not quite. This update is different and I have arranged to deliver it myself. It is”, she paused, “of a nature which I felt deserved a more personal touch. We could have updated you as usual but this time I have insisted. You need to get this personally. You deserve to get it personally.”