History

Arlene achieved lock on the comet an A.U. out from the Delta Tango LaGrange Point.

Three weeks earlier, we departed the comfort and familiarity of Europa Station, departed the familiarity that comes with the Jupiter system. In dead space, our starcraft is in a long elliptical Sol orbit en route the inner solar system as Arlene preps the comet’s ice core.

Now, the two of us are way past the Jovian Blue Line on slow approach to Venus.

“I love the smell of Venution terraforming,” I say.

“There is no smell,” Arlene says.

I sigh. “Forget about it.”

“You puzzle me at times,” Arlene says.

“A lot of women have told me that.”

I spent the duration in pseudo-stasis as the dynamic cloning took hold, and my body mods began in earnest. Arlene, my Sentient Companion, runs the whole show. I’m just along for the ride.

“My Sentient…” the Government frowns on the use of that possessive expression, but my genetic Imprints are considered ‘old school.’

You see, dear reader, there is no physical form to Arlene. Well, that is to say, not like human physical form. Not like me. She lives in the Network, and as I move physically, she moves virtually and always with me, but never with me. Once upon a time, Arlene would have been called “A.I.,” but that term is considered derogatory in our enlightened age.

Ever since Fifth Treaty of Olympus Mons, it’s Illegal for sentients to engage in combat. But, it’s only a rule, an abstract: humans never follow the rules, especially when there’s an advantage to be gained. That’s why I’m here, why a human is sent on these deep space runs. One would ask, including you, dear reader, as to why war continues? That’s a thoughtful question, indeed. Some say it’s the Dirac Sea. Perhaps yes, perhaps no.

My human-enhanced dynamic cloning doesn’t require me to sleep, but I must dream, otherwise the insanity. Hence, the reason for the stasis, the deep sleep, which I must endure at least once every five cycles. I’ve experienced stasis deprivation, the dreaded S.D.s, only once.

And so we continue to sail among the dark of the solar system’s void, and I wonder if I’ll make Venus by happy hour.