Midshipman Henry Gallant in Space
CHAPTER 10
MIND REVOLUTION
After an interminable day of personnel and maintenance reports, followed by a humdrum evening watch as JOOD, Gallant returned to his cubicle to find Red changing into gym gear.
“Hey, Red, wait up. I’ll join you,” said Gallant, stripping off his uniform while grabbing his gym outfit from his locker, “I need to work up a sweat.”
“Okay, I know what you mean. I just completed six mind-numbing hours sitting on a lumpy chair in engineering. You would think with all the AI power available, an EOOW could do something more useful than monitoring reactor parameters as they dance around with every power fluctuation. I am so ready to let off some steam.”
They were quick to exit through the common room and began jogging down the corridor to the gym. In a few minutes, however, their jog turned into a run, and then into a race where no quarter was given. A few good-natured elbows found their way into each competitor’s ribs, not to mention an occasional genial shove.
They arrived at the gym out of breath, but invigorated.
“The only reason you won was because of those scrawny legs that let you hug the corners,” laughed Red. He huffed and puffed while leaning against the bulkhead.
“I’m glad you’re able to find an excuse for your dismal performance,” retorted Gallant, gasping for his share of air.
When they entered the nearly empty gym, they found Kelsey jogging on the track that circumscribed the compartment.
“Hi,” said Gallant as he joined her, matching her pace. They were content to jog side by side quietly for a while. The only interruption was the regimen of Red’s exercise, which took a more physical nature.
WAMP! WAMP! WAMP! WAMP! moaned the heavy punching bag, as Red slammed his gloved fists into it. Red's decision to work on his boxing skills provided a rhythmic harmony for Gallant’s and Kelsey’s jog, which followed the brisk tempo that Red maintained for nearly half an hour. Finally, they took a break.
Chests heaving and arms dragging, with shirts soaked and breath labored, Gallant imagined the three of them were a ragged sight. To revitalize them, he got three bottles of water from a nearby dispenser. They sat on the seats of available workout machines, consuming the liquid and gasping every few swallows.
“I think yoga might help your training program,” suggested Kelsey, looking at Red.
“This body wasn’t meant for those kinds of contortions.”
“Your lop-sided dimensions shouldn’t be a serious impediment,” she said, pursing her lips into a grin, enjoying the chance to bait the oversized pilot.
“I think, you’re the one who's size-challenged." He moved to the edge of his seat and stretched his elongated arms to pat her on the head. "Anyway, why are you picking on me? It’s Henry who’s the freak,” he chortled.
“Don’t pull your punches, Red,” she said, letting her grin expand into a broad smile, “let Henry really have it!”
“Oh. Why am I a freak?” asked Gallant, his face contorted in bewilderment. He looked back and forth from Red to Kelsey and back to Red.
“Henry, don’t be so sensitive,” said Red, giving Gallant a friendly poke. “You must know that everyone talks about you behind your back. You should be open to discussing your peculiarities with your friends.”
“What Red, is trying to say,” Kelsey said tactfully, “is that you need to change how you think about yourself, Henry. You’re not just a little different,” she paused and licked her lips, searching for the right words. “From our perspective, you’re unique. You’re literally one in a billion.”
Completely nonplussed, Gallant did not reply.
“Henry, Henry, Henry, how can I explain?” she said. “Every midshipman pilot on this ship can fly an Eagle, using a neuron interface. It allows them to literally fly a huge powerful antimatter space fighter, traveling at 1,860 miles a second with their thoughts - instantaneous control by mere thought.”
“That’s true, but it took a century to develop that technology,” replied Gallant.
“Sure. It started with implanting chips into the brain,” contributed Red.
Kelsey moved closer to Gallant and began speaking in a helpful voice, “Then genetic engineering, which had only been used to eliminate birth defects and disease, was transformed to create designer enzymes and hormones. They radically altered brain chemistry. Today, those ingredients allow pilots to network directly into AI machines, through their neuron interface.”
“That’s my point,” said Red, getting excited. “After a century of trying, only those who were genetically enhanced could make the neuron interface function efficiently." He waited an uneasy second then added, "Until you.”
“That’s why you’re special. You were born to be a fighter pilot — a Natural,” concluded Kelsey. “The question everyone wants to know is, are you a once-in-a-century affair, or the first of your kind? You’ll have to admit, it’s a rather intriguing prospect.”
“That’s why you got into the academy. That’s why you’re here. That’s why Caine was observing you at the mock battle. You’re being watched,” said Red, sucking his checks until he had squished his face into prune.
“Now you’re exaggerating,” said Gallant, but casting a look over his shoulder, nonetheless.
“Henry, you've got to think big. This is the century of genetic mind enhancement. It happens, however, that some are more talented than others. That’s why we’re not all pilots,” said Kelsey, blushing.
“Think of it in terms of a sociological revolution,” said Red, spreading his arms wide to demonstrate the scope of the issue he was addressing.
“You mean like the Industrial Revolution?” asked Gallant.
Kelsey touched Gallant’s shoulder, “Exactly. Only while our 22nd Century Mind Revolution may have started with genetically enhanced neuron interfaces, you may be the fore bearer of something different - a future where mind control of AI machines can be accomplished without an interface. Control by mere thought. That’s why Neumann resents you so much.”
“Oh, so you noticed, did you?” asked Gallant, nodding his head for emphasis.
“You’re stealing his spotlight,” she said.