Tevun-Krus #35 - Best of '16

After Human - A Short Story by @Holly_Gonzalez

Day 87, Year 183 of 309, 18:00

Interstellar Greatship Melpomene

Executive Sector Alpha

Sometimes the citizens of the greatship Melpomene refused to accept the truth. In flesh-space Chief Enforcer Finlo Grady tensed his blunt fingers around the armrests of his office chair. In the bio-network of the Share, he resonated a mass thought-send of disapproval to the Conclave.

"How many times must I explain?" His virtual message growled to the thousands of unaltered dissidents in thought-space. "PostHom isn't the elixir of eternal youth. It's an addictive crutch. Take it from me. Sure, I'm two hundred and eight years old, but my body's a mess. It doesn't give you immortality, no matter what the pseudo-science claims. I volunteered to become post-hom to protect and guide this Seed mission, and that's exactly what I'm doing."

"The Chief Enforcer is correct," sent Caretaker Sanvaris Neto, the only other First Gen post-hominid like Finlo and Sister. "I also disapprove of anything which would endanger the living and the unborn."

The citizens' reply roared in waves of data current at Finlo and Neto. Finlo weathered the crash with the obstinate rock of his will.

"You want proof of the long-term effects of PostHom?" Finlo retorted. "Look at what's happened to the rest of the altered First Gens. All of them dead or gone insane. Prolonged life isn't for everyone. Your mind weakens, even though your body looks young and healthy. It's an extended nightmare."

Sister's all-encompassing presence rippled a vast sigh through the Share, and everyone fell silent. "Chief Enforcer, Caretaker, your noble contributions are praised by all. Yet the wishes of the citizens must be considered. PostHom has been questionable in some cases, but my researchers have made excellent progress developing a new version. To deny our citizens the right to choose violates the morals of our society. I find the selfish viewpoint you both harbor disappointing, and thus I uphold the proposal for further assessment. The Conclave is adjourned."

The Conclave-channel disintegrated from Finlo's mind. Grumbling, he tore the bio-receiver from his head and pushed himself to his feet.

"Fuck this." Selfish--of all the damned nerve. Sister was far over the line to humiliate him and Neto before the Conclave.

Sister knew of PostHom's drawbacks better than anyone. Her physical body floated in a vat of it somewhere inside her Spire, her flesh constantly rejuvenated while her magnified consciousness directed the ship and the Share. She was as old as he and Neto were and just as dependent on the substance. Before she'd volunteered her mind and body to become one of the Nine Sisters--the nine women who'd sacrificed themselves to PostHom to guide the Seed missions--Melpomene's name had been Gwendola Harken. Just another bright-eyed young kid like Finlo had been at the time. Sister seemed to have lost her common sense. If so, the entire mission was in jeopardy.

It wasn't the first time he'd opposed Sister, and it wouldn't be the last given the idiocy of this distribution proposal. If Melpomene became a megalomaniacal goddess, he'd shove her back into place. Sister always had the final say, but Finlo and Neto were still part of Central Command.

A pale beam of artificial daylight glinted through the tall window--bright, but never as warm as a real sun. Finlo leaned against the glass and rubbed his chin. Seething wouldn't do. He had to remain vigilant for the sake of everything he believed in. Though his parents were long dead, the values they'd instilled lived on in him. He vowed to never forget them--and to help the children remember what being 'human' truly meant.

***

20:00

Entertainment Sector Sigma