The long applause slowly ended. “And now, the recipient of our Nation’s highest award given for service in our Glorious Victory over the Chand, Dr. Martina Ranaay. Martina, please come forward to accept your country’s appreciation.”
Cheers and applause erupted again as the woman rose slightly in her stabilizer to travel on a cushion of air to the speaker. One side of her pale face appeared slightly swollen, but her notorious beauty was still apparent. She thought the face would have healed by now, but considered wryfully the restoration had been done too many times.
“As most of you know, Martina is the head of Ranaay Laboratories which engineered the technology of Entangled Minds. She was the one primarily responsible for enabling our military forces to defeat the cloned armies of the Chand.” More applause quieted quickly as the speaker continued. “Martina’s creativity, ingenuity, and impressive dedication allowed instantaneous communication between our individual warriors. God save the Hive!”
The Hive. The first hive was her own employees who had volunteered, mostly under duress or cajoling with special favors, to accept the prototype brain implant that allowed them to work efficiently together. No one knew then if brains could absorb, organize, and withstand information from so many minds that were connected together. While the first ‘volunteers’ had serious problems, further engineering had allowed filters to share only those thoughts directed toward wartime purposes. Later modifications even better prioritized the thoughts to be shared. Even that overwhelmed a person, leaving little capacity for thinking other thoughts—an ideal soldier, thought Martina.
Martina Ranaay appeared at the podium to hear the continuing roar of approval from the assemblies around the country of Kanel who greeted the powerful, beautiful, and intelligent woman who had been responsible for their victory. In her earlier days, she would have made sure the applause would have led to further goals, perhaps as a political leader.
No, I’m done with that, she mused. Especially because the idea was being broached to have a new democracy with politicians accepting brain chips connected to their constituents. No brain chip for me, thought Martina.
“Dr. Ranaay, because of secrecy requirements, many have not heard how Hive technology was developed. Please tell us your story.” The applause and cheers strengthened in volume and remained for several minutes.
Martina leaned backward in her stabilizer as if to avoid touching her mostly remote audience. This day has finally come, she thought, but then ruminated on the country's vanity accorded to a woman whose time had past. She glanced at Aranat, who smiled generously for the assembled recorders. The ultimate trophy husband, thought Martina. She avoided looking at her tall, much younger husband, and decided she was not so much resentful of his youth, as she was of her own personal decision to marry Aranat. Nothing works for me, except by chemical prodding. I am the artificial woman, thought Martina. And Aranat has taken up with a fresh one, from what Scott told me.
The crowd quieted as the Martina adjusted her viewer to see the short acceptance speech. “Men and women of Kanel, almost every one of you devoted your lives and contributed to the victory.”
She stopped for the extended applause. How much longer do l have, she thought. Perhaps two months; maybe four if I’m lucky. Enough to change my life, unless Scott changes it first.
The applause ended slowly, and Martina continued. “We were unable to initially defeat the cloned armies of the Chand because their minds and bodies were uniformly created for one purpose—to defeat us. Yet there was a critical weakness in the Chand army—their uniformity. Whereas, Kanel has always rewarded individuality and self-initiative.”
Cheers stopped the speech again. When did I start to go wrong? Was it when I took Daryn’s idea of Entangled Minds and ran with it? No, it was much earlier. But I was somewhat good once and Mother said she thought I should consider being a nun. If I were ever to tell anyone that story, they would be hugely amused, Martina thought.
“The strength Kanel needed was found in brain communication between our soldiers, somewhat similar to identical twins knowing what the other seems to be thinking--but much more comprehensive. Our new technology allows our individual soldiers to fight together as a Hive—using a superior communication system.”
Martina stopped again for the sustained applause to continue her inward thoughts. No, it started with my first dates—they were the problem. No, it was me, Me, ME! I was the one who made sure I was noticed. A short skirt, a little cleavage, a smile, a willingness to trade for power, intelligence, favors... That’s where it started—that changed everything in my life. God's gifts of beauty and intelligence--so much pride. A bad combination for my life ending like this.
“Briefly, the technology that won our war, your hard fought war, is Entangled Minds. We created a way to embed chips with quantum entangled particles into the brains of our fighting soldiers. These chips enable instantaneous communication, regardless of whether our soldiers were 100 light years away or 100,000 light years away. Now our soldiers could fought both as individuals and as members of a Hive. The identical cloned Chand army without such communication had no chance against our Hive.” Long live the Hive!"
“Long live the Hive, Long live the Hive, Long live the Hive,” chanted and cheered the audience in return.
Martina slouched back in her stabilizer and Scott, her only son and public caretaker, raised his hands over the head of his mother to receive the public admiration and gratitude of a nation. Aranat had moved closer to his wife to also receive the adulation.
Only Aranat has the strength of his convictions, Martina thought as she looked as her fourth husband. Of course, his convictions were only for the new Foundation he had persuaded her to fund. "Favored Children" was dedicated to the creation of babies who seemed to be somewhat autistic and introverted, but who had special talents. Martina had recently determined Aranat's business arrangements to "loan" these children to certain business enterprises. Martina knew that Aranat really didn’t like children, and it was an effort for him to stay in the same room with his own children when they visited on assignment from his former wife.
The roar of the crowds began to diminish, and Martina’s thoughts continued to wander. Mel, now that was the boy I should have married. The next time, she vowed again, it will be different, and not just with a husband.
Scott towered over his mother until the deafening roar seemed to peak, then he quickly hustled Martina off the stage to the flyvan. “I thought the crowds could have been a little larger after all our organization did for them.”
Martina decided not to respond to her son’s remarks. Scott was not the most considerate person, nor was he the most honest. Martina’s thoughts turned to the recent large payment she had made to relieve Scott of the consequences of one of his unethical arrangements. Martina had briefly considered that Scott might be appreciative of her efforts to undo his recent past, but had quickly abandoned the thought. It would have been best had Scott never been born, she had concluded a long time ago.
Martina knew that once Scott had inherited Ranaay Laboratories, that the country, and Scott, would not be improved. Martina sometimes wondered if Scott did not even have plans for his mother’s early departure—perhaps more immanent than natural death. Well, Martina knew she deserved Scott—little time spent with him, no good father, no moral training. Just excuses and more excuses for not being a good mother.
___________________________________________________________
“I’m glad I’m not the one to try this out,” said Garcia, the chief engineer of Hive Technologies, a recent spinoff of Ranaay Laboratories. “You realize this may kill you and all your past good work.” Two technicians worked on a small QuanCam on a lab bench on the far side of the laboratory.
“Good work?” responded Martina. “What you call my good work was self-indulgent and power-seeking.. You certainly are not going to excuse what I’ve done to get where I am, are you, Garcia?”
Garcia did not respond. Just as well, thought Martina. “You’ve been with me for a long time. Are you too going to excuse my life? Tell me Garcia, you're a Catholic. Didn't you ever have a problem with my sexual contacts, several husbands, my lack of concern for others, my illegal transactions. Garcia, Why didn't you say something?"
Garcia was silent and Martina knew he did not want to remind her of the threats she constantly made to all employees who had disagreed with her.
"I knew you wouldn't listen, so I thought patience and good example were the only ways to respond."
Martina sighed, "Then you know I need to do this in spite of the consequences. I have to do it.”
“Yes,” answered Garcia, then added, “But there are other ways. Perhaps not to change the past, but still to change the future Why this?”
‘Only this will change my entire life. There is no other way.”
Garcia responded quietly. “The weakness of age is not something anyone enjoys. But it teaches you to rely on others.”
Ignoring the real intent of Garcia’s comments, Martina responded, “And I rely especially on you, Garcia” she added. “I’m glad I didn’t fire you when you did object to one of my ‘deals’.”
“That deal was dishonest. I wanted no part of it,” said Garcia.
Martina thought, Garcia knows I am getting close to my final judgment. He knows, more than he says.
Garcia slowly continued. “Sins can be forgiven, Dr. Ranaay.”
“My sins would have been better not to be committed than forgiven,” countered Martina. “You know how many lives I’ve changed for the worse in the past 90 years."
Garcia tried again, "You need to go to confession, Martina."
"I've done that, and the priest said justice required restitution. Yet all the money and activity in the world wouldn’t solve the problems I’ve caused. The only way is Pandora’s Sphere.”
“If you’re determined to go ahead…,” trailed Garcia’s voice. He unlocked the door to what appeared to be a small environmental chamber, but shaped more like a pyramid with rounded corners. A round porthole was fitted with clear plexiglass. Something about the strange shape still intrigued Garcia, but he had not been privy to the reasons why he had been told to build that particular design.
Garcia stepped forward and pressed a mark on the chamber that opened a splitting door to reveal a simple control panel on the opposite inner wall. “Can you move inside by yourself? Otherwise I’ll get a technician to help.”
Martina’s stabilizer lifted slightly off the floor and gently moved inside the sphere. “Please open the sphere in an hour if I don’t come out,” instructed Martina to the engineer.
Yet if everything works as I've planned, Garcia’s life, my life, and a lot of other lives will be changed in an hour. That’s the way it is when one affects the past, thought Martina.
Martina smiled wanly at Garcia as the flap closed and seamlessly sealed Martina inside the Sphere. The pale yellow light was comforting, and Martina heard the system begin operation. Then she activated the small device that Garcia had inserted above her left ear.
Martina relaxed. First she could perceive nothing, then she realized that her brain was beginning to be entangled with another brain from a past age. The strangely familiar sound of a middle-aged man was heard, “Marti, you need to help your mother.” The eyeview opened so she could see a middle-aged woman struggling with groceries she was bringing in the house. It was hard to explain the exotic experience where the inside of her old house could be observed.
Marti answered, “I can’t, I’m going to be late.”
The entangled choice of Martina’s brain was Marti, Martina at the age of seventeen. Martina had considered for several months about what to change in her early life because Pandora’s Sphere could be used only once. Any significant modification to Martina’s early life would certainly destroy the Sphere.
Martina had decided to see and listen before engaging full brain entanglement with Marti. So often parents and grandparents tell children what to do and how to do it without understanding the thought processes going on in children’s heads. Martina knew that Marti would likely not be receptive to instructions from a strange old woman. Although she will certainly be greatly interested, thought Martina.
“Where are you going, Marti?” asked his mother.
“Why do you need to know?” Marti responded defensively. “You don’t trust me, do you?”
“Button your blouse, Marti” asked her Mother. “You don’t want boys to get ideas, do you?”
Martina saw her mother sigh and Marti buttoned her blouse, grabbed her coat and turned to leave. “Look at your Grandma, Marti,” said Martina in an entangled mind communication.
Without thinking, Marti looked at her Grandma. “Bye, Grandma,” she said more softly than usual as she saw the rosary beads.
“Be good, Marty. I’ll pray for you.”
“Yeah, of course, Grandma,” responded Marti. “I always need your prayers—especially when our team is playing,” she laughingly added.
Marti hurried to the shortie car. Cheaper than a regular car, it was nice and tight—especially for girl and boy travel. Tonight was the party—one she had looked forward to all week. Reib would be there.
______________________________________________________
Mark yelled, “We’re gonna have a real party tonight. Our Bulleters won!” The large room in the underground center was filled with students laughing and talking about the Sillion game with the Arrows team that had just ended.
The government supported the Sillion games because they had been shown to lead to higher intelligence, better self-discipline, and physical agility. Yet relatively few students participated, even though all were encouraged to take part. Lots of students watched and celebrated the games, however.
Marti had parked the car on a ledge near the entrance, even though the Center did not permit it. But it was very close, and Marti was late. She swung briskly through the door and found her girlfriends talking in a small group.
“Say, Marti, where did you get that skirt?” asked a dark haired girl in a short skirt. “Don’t you know that length is old-fashioned. You remind me of my Grandma.” All the girls laughed.
Marti felt ashamed at Eveh’s remark, and Martina felt it might be time to intrude into Marti’s mind, but thought better of it.
“I’m not going to listen to you,” responded Marti.
“Yeah, but your boyfriend likes me better,” said Evehe. “You don’t know how to keep him, do you?”
Marti turned away to avoid looking at Evehe. Martina knew that Evehe’s remark had drawn blood.
“What did you do to attract Reib?” asked Marti contemptuously. “Open your blouse again?” She was determined not to let Evehe have the last word.
“That, and a few other tricks. You simply don’t know anything, do you, girl?” replied Evehe. “You want Rieb back. Well, take him back yourself, if you can.” And Eveh marched away to join a group of young men who seemed to want to sample the baser things in life
“Don’t pay attend to Evehe,” said Perie. “She told me she might be getting tired of Reib, anyway. He’s not here tonight because he got hurt in the Sillion games, and Mel took him to the reconstruction center.”
“What happened,” said Marti anxiously.
“Nothing serious, but he’ll be in the reconstruction center for a week. Imagine our star player being held by the infirmary when he is so good at not being captured by anyone else. You ought to visit Rieb because Evehe won't be leaving this party tonight.”
________________________________________________________
Marti walked into Rieb’s room to see Mel talking with the patient. “What happened?” she asked, as Mel stood aside to let her approach Rieb’s bed.
“Can’t keep my legs under me while fighting, I guess,” responded Rieb. He appeared somewhat ill at ease, knowing that Marti had probably heard of his recent dalliance with Evehe.
Marti was determined to win a warmer reception from Rieb. Guys strayed, and Rieb is worth it, thought Marti, especially with his father’s money and position. “I’ll be back in a minute with some snacks and drinks.”
Great!” sounded both Rieb and Mel, almost in unison, adding, “Bring us some Carbonis.”
Marti left to pick up the snacks, then remembered Evehe’s comments and decided a more frontal attack was needed to regain Rieb’s attention. She entered the R-Room and looked in the long holomirror. Marti decided to heighten her skirt more than a few inches, and again unbuttoned her blouse—two buttons this time. A little more tousled hair, and she looked a lot like Evehe, but a little shorter and slimmer. I do know how to attract guys, thought Marti, and I’ll attract a lot more of them than stupid Evehe ever will.
At that moment, Martina knew. No other time would be better. “Marti, Grandma is praying for you right now.”
The sudden thought in her mind caused Marti to glance again at the holomirror. Had she seen something? Heard something? Confused, Marti looked more closely at the special image in the holomirror. It was herself, or was it?
Yet the image was of Marti. The hologram then changed to show a slightly older Marti surrounded by men, with Reib sulking in the background. Sequential images quickly shifted, each with the beautiful mature woman who seemed to be flirting, marrying, making business decisions, and receiving the fruits of successful enterprises. Yet the face had become hardened with time, as many sins were obviously committed by the beautiful woman.
Marti was confused. "Stop!" she shouted involuntarily, and the images stopped abruptly.
Martina had decided several holographic images of her past life would be necessary, but had not anticipated they would be interrupted.
"Marti, you've seen your future life. It's not a good life. Change it! For my sake," pleaded Martina in an entangled mind communication.
"What are you?" responded Marti violently.
"I am YOU" answered Martina. "And I am dying with so many regrets."
Marti was strangely affected. The vision had stopped, if it had been a vision. She looked at herself in the holomirror again, but the image was simply of herself. Yes, she did look like Evehe—a lot more like Evehe than Marti had ever looked before. And Marti didn’t like herself looking like Evehe.
As Marti returned to the room with snacks, Mel motioned to Marti to sit in the chair and he took a place at the side of Rieb’s bed. Mel laughed in anticipation, as he distributed the candies and drinks from her overladen hands. “Marti’s a great girl, Rieb. Where did you find her?“
“I agree she’s a great gal,” responded Rieb cautiously.
“She’s going to miss the Orpheum Classic concert, though,” said Mel. “Perhaps I could take her while you’re out of commission. Not that I’m stealing your prize, however.”
Marti shivered at being referred to as a prize. The concert was a class function, but the guys usually tried to pair up with specific girls and sit with them on top the flyvans and at the concert.
Rieb appeared relieved, “Nah, I can’t go anywhere for a while.” Turning to Mel, he suddenly added, “But you’ll have to tell me afterwards how it felt to be with the most beautiful and intelligent young woman you’ve ever met.”
“Gladly,” responded Mel with a big smile.
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