Things you do not wish to Chapter 10: Realise, an alpha centauri fanfic

Things you do not wish to...

An Alpha Centauri fan fiction by Shade

I say this only once before beginning. I don't own Alpha Centauri, owning myself is difficult enough. I intend no harm. Now that we're clear about this, let us begin...

(PS: I apologise for the lack of updates both yesterday and last week. I'm kinda busy with exams, papers and a masters' thesis, so... Expect no regular updates for at least a month. Sorry...)

10) Realise

In the three years that passed, much had happened except for Sean's cracking the encryption on the data pod. He had begun with enthusiasm, but even his strongest hacking attempts amounted to nothing: the data pod remained silent and stubborn.

"I'm sure of one thing, though...", Sean had said the day before, as he officially gave up all attempts of decryption on the thing. "It isn't broken or malfunctioning. Whatever that data pod holds, must be important..."

Zakharov had gotten exasperated with the thing, and he was now enjoying the calm of University Base as he had given all his scientists the day off – including himself. He was walking around the streets aimlessly, thinking about several things... mostly concerning Deirdre's last visit and the next one...

"Academician!" The voice startled him: in front of him stood Tamar, accompanied by three children. "I see you're spending your day brooding..."

"I'm surprised to meet you.", he said as he looked at her – she did look different when she wasn't wearing a lab coat – and smiled as he noticed her partially concerned look. "I was a bit preoccupied with my thoughts. I see you are taking a walk."

"Yeah, more like a walk to and from the recreation dome.", she said with a snicker as she motioned for the three children. "They have a day off from school and I got stuck dragging them around the city. They're absolute demons!", she said in mock exasperation. Then, noticing Zakharov raising an eyebrow in disbelief, she continued: "Oh, sure, to you they put up an angelic face and say 'hello, sir' and 'yes, sir', but I get to get dragged around the base for their enjoyment! By the way, their names are Aïcha, Natasha and Kevin. Kev, Tasha, Aïcha, this is Academician Zakharov – the man who leads the University, and my... um, boss, I guess?", she finished rather lamely. Zakharov smiled and bent down to get at the same level as the children, shaking their hands. "Well, I'd best be going.", Tamar said as Zakharov rose again. "I promised them I'd buy them ice cream..."

"There's an ice-cream parlor somewhere in the base!" Zakharov couldn't believe his ears. He looked around him incredulously.

"You should get out of your labs a bit more often.", Tamar remarked with a wink. "Why don't you come along? I don't think my kids will let you go now that you've confessed your love for ice cream..."

The day after, Zakharov found his thoughts pleasantly filled with the ice-cream parlor and the conversation with the children. The threesome had been curious: they had asked him anything and everything about his being a leader – "Is it really difficult to sit in an office and tell other people that they should do things?" – and his being a scientist – "Mom said you're really good at science... um, I think that was what she said...". He spent most of the time between ice-creams talking about minor incidents that happened occasionally and which he thought would interest the children: stuff blowing up, people getting sprayed with paint or slipping on oil stains. But the most interesting part of the afternoon had been when Tamar had left for the bathroom: the three had suddenly started talking about Deirdre.

"She comes here very often, to visit her brother – that's the guy that's living in our attic – and she looks so pretty and nice. Does she visit you when she's here, mister academician sir? Does she miss her brother much? Is she a scientist too, mom said she's a biologist..." He ended up telling them about their friendship and about how happy they had been to meet each other again after not having been sure the other had survived. But he had not hinted about his feelings for the Gaian lady.

Tamar had, in the meanwhile, entered – having noticed the vacant expression on her Academician's face and the silly grin he bore, she stood opposite him and smiled.

"Dreaming about a friend, Academician? ...My children told me the story of a wonderful friendship yesterday. Why not the sad love story?" Zakharov had looked up by then.

"They would have never let me go away then. 'Do you love Lady Deirdre! Ooh, does she love you too? Are you going to marry her, mister academician sir?' I wouldn't like to disappoint them – I don't see a marriage happening between us in the next fifty years..."

"Oh, don't give up hope, Academician. Maybe not tomorrow, no... but I can see you getting there." She grinned – it was the type of grin Zakharov had come to distrust over the years. But to his surprise, her expression turned into a serious one almost immediately. "We should get back to work, though. Imagine what the assistants would say when they saw their Academician slacking off..." Zakharov nodded and went to the cupboard to take his chart. He was supposed to be checking the Glow mite farms that were lined up along the walls. With the chart in his one hand and a pen in his others, he walked slowly to each glass box and checked its progress.

"Farm one... okay. Farm two... seems to be no activity. Glow mites might be sleeping... Farm three... hmm, this is interesting. This colony seems to have expanded, look here..." He pointed to a small entrance well away from the main entrance. "This could prove interesting...", he said as he began to note down his findings on the chart hurriedly. When he had reached the fifth farm, one of the doctors from the floor above walked inside.

"Academician, you're needed in the medical labs!", he said. Zakharov turned around, mildly surprised.

"What could they need me for?", he asked, nonplussed.

"I believe it is about Sean Skye's last blood test. The hematologists have made some discoveries – and they could pertain to you, too, Academician..."

It was a discovery indeed, he pondered the next day. Deirdre – having come to get Sean, seeing as the three years had passed - sat opposite him, next to Sean, and both were listening incredulously: Deirdre looked stunned by the information, while Sean merely seemed surprised.

"Explain again, I still don't quite get it...", Deirdre said slowly. Zakharov nodded and obliged.

"Sean's last blood test showed residues of an unknown enzyme in his blood. The doctors were startled, but they thought that it might be a mistake. Sean was asked for a second sample and the second test showed the same unknown enzyme in his blood. When the medical staff started to research the properties of the enzyme, they found out that that enzyme was only one of an entire cocktail. Sean's blood showed twice the normal amount of hormones in it – the bigger part of it being a hitherto unknown hormone which causes the body to renew itself constantly. This hormone has been named rejuvenadron – it indicates that the body is constantly being rejuvenated.

"Then, the doctors started searching for the source of the alien hormone, and found that our brain itself secretes it. That can only be done if the genetic material of our neurons has been changed. The cryogenic sleep must have altered our organisms – caused them to enter a state of agelessness...", Zakharov concluded. He sat silently, waiting for Deirdre's reaction – she was still trying to digest the information, by the looks of it. Sean slowly spoke his thoughts.

"Youth hormone... this could mean... Professor," he suddenly said while turning to his mentor, "did the doctors say anything about being able to synthetically create the hormone? Because if they could... we would have – I don't know – a longevity vaccine of sorts!" The young man's words hung in the air for a while as the tension suddenly culminated. Deirdre looked up in curiosity, her blue eyes directed at Zakharov, who found himself warmed by the fire that suddenly roared to life in his heart.

"The doctors know how I think of my agelessness", he said after a while, looking from Deirdre to Sean and back. "I consider it a nuisance, as you undoubtedly do yourselves. But I have given them permission to find a way to synthetically recreate the hormone, yes. It could have its useful applications." He smiled as he saw Sean nod – the young man had undoubtedly thought the same as he – and then turned to Deirdre. "Now, Deirdre, you said you have news as well?"

"I do, and I doubt it this news has useful applications as well...", she said darkly before explaining. "When you asked if Sean could stay a bit longer, three years ago, I was watching a documentary about Planet's native life on television. It was shot by an unmanned camera, placed in the middle of a fungus field. There was this colony of glow mites that came out at that moment, gathering spores that had been carried to the ground by the morning dew. Then, I noticed something funny. Some glow mites kept rubbing their antennae against the fungal stems. Suddenly, they retreated back into the ground – just in time to evade a pre-larval mind worm boil. I started thinking: what did the fungus do? How did it aid the glow mites in evading the mind worms? I planted some fungus in a few of the glow mite farms in my labs. One day, I placed a hidden camera and an electrometer in one of the farms with fungus in them. The results I got were mind-boggling. The fungus transmits electric pulses. The glow mites get these pulses via their antennae, and this way they are regulated by the fungus. But the fungus didn't only warn them for danger: it told them when they got food, when they were being observed... everything. The fungus, in short, works as our brain does: each fungal synapse resembling a neuron, each stem playing the part of a dendrite. And the spores seem to have taken on the role of neurotransmitters, for they ease the flow of the electric current from synapse to synapse..." Zakharov sat back in his chair, unable to fully believe what he heard. Had Deirdre just hinted at what he thought she had hinted?

"You are saying we live among a giant brain?"

"No, we're living on a giant brain. The fungus extends into the soil as well. But I've only measured electric currents in a contained environment so far...", Deirdre said in defense of her results, "There's no telling what we might find when we measure the actual fungus forests out there. Plus, I don't think it's like our brain. There seems to be no sentience. The fungus manages, but doesn't seem to manipulate." Zakharov could only hope she was right – but he tried to put the disturbing thoughts as far away in his mind as he could by suggesting a game of chess. The remainder of the evening, no one seemed to give the two revelations any more thought and they talked of small things. Zakharov reported his ice cream adventure with a faint trace of the grin he had had the previous day and Deirdre told of her newest biocreations.

And soon it was time for Deirdre and Sean to leave. Deirdre winked as she said goodbye, and reminded Zakharov again of the wedding that would take place in another month – she had been driven crazy by the preparations, as she would always complain during their conversations though she liked the prospect of her little brother finally taking the big step. He watched from his window as the group – Deirdre, Sean, and the few guards that had been waiting in the guards' quarters near the entrance – made their way along the main street.

And then, suddenly, Deirdre turned around and looked up at the building – at him. Sean pulled her along, but she seemed unwilling...

And Zakharov found his heart doing overtime again, while in his mind a battle was waged between emotions and reason – but now emotion seemed to have the upper hand...

University logs / private logs / P.L. Zakharov, academician - entry 19/12/2133

I cannot have imagined it. Deirdre definitely turned around tonight, and hesitated. She seemed unwilling to leave as well – Sean practically had to drag her to the gates. But why did she hesitate? I can only guess. Would she really... can it be?

Deirdre found that the three years without Sean were next to unbearable: she was now missing her brother's presence so much that her trips to University Base were monthly. Her daily conversations with Zakharov were soothing, but they were sometimes cut short by Eliza, who demanded that she could speak to Sean too. Deirdre gladly gave in – they were engaged, after all, and she hadn't actually consulted her friend when she decided to allow Sean to stay longer than expected.

It had been, by then, almost a year ago that Deirdre had taken Eliza along on one of her visits to University Base. She had introduced Eliza to Zakharov and then spoke of the daily happenings at her own base. When she wanted to ask Eliza something, she had disappeared along with Sean: Deirdre had been deeply ashamed as she thought where the two could have gone off to and she had apparently blushed a deep shade of red for her friend offered her a cool drink with an amused-worried look on his face. The two hadn't reappeared until after the third game of chess, both looking a bit embarrassed. Deirdre had scolded Eliza for running off, but then Eliza told Deirdre that they would have to start planning the wedding – it had startled Deirdre into a silence that had lasted until she spoke to Zakharov the next day. The Academician had laughed – Deirdre found his laugh soothing and in the end, she had joined him with her own soft giggles. He had told her it was only normal, and had been rational and very fatherly as he told her she shouldn't worry or be shocked. 'After all, they are adults...', Deirdre thought, using Zakharov's exact words. She was looking at samples of table cloth for the wedding together with Eliza: the preparations were nearing their end since they only had a little over a month left until the big day.

"What do you think about this one?", Eliza said as she showed Deirdre a green tablecloth with a pattern of little white flowers around the rim. Deirdre looked at it, then slowly shook her head.

"Nah, your tables'd look like they're covered by a meadow. Tablecloths should have soft colours, in order to not distract the attention of how beautiful you'll look..." She winked as Eliza blushed softly. "How about this one?", she said as she showed a soft pink sample with a pattern of lilacs.

"Oh, ugh, no pink!", Eliza exclaimed, and Deirdre smiled. "Sean would throw a fit! ...This one?" Deirdre looked at the sample: a cream-colored one with a pattern of lilies around the edge.

"...Sean has always liked lilies...", she slowly said, awestruck by the fact that Eliza picked out those things that would have Sean's approval. 'It's moments like this one that show she's perfect for my little brother...', she mused as Eliza set to work to remove all the samples from the table, keeping the one she liked aside.

"Oh, we're already finished! ...How about a cup of coffee and a cookie?" Eliza produced a pot of coffee from thin air and then went off to get some cookies. "We still have about an hour or so left until we're needed back in the labs..."

"Okay. ...You know," Deirdre said as she sipped her coffee, "I still can't believe that you're getting married. I still see Sean as my baby brother, I guess, and you as that inquisitive little girl of the early days."

"Well, you are possibly the one person that I love as much as I do my own mother, Lady Deirdre. And you're like a mother to Sean. ...That would make you like a mother-in-law to me.", she added with a grin.

"Oh, please no! A mother-in-law before I'm old!" Deirdre and Eliza both giggled, and then Deirdre turned to her best friend/aide with a smile on her face. "Well, how does it feel to be on the highway to marriage? ...I hope to be married one day too, so tell me all about it..."

The next day, Deirdre was busy doing what she had to do – but meanwhile she was thinking of her upcoming visit to University Base. A visit which would probably be her last for a long time, for she was going there to get Sean and bring him back with her to the base. She chuckled as she remembered several assistants joking about having to prepare themselves for the end of their quietude. She had not even scolded them, she recalled, pausing momentarily from her dull task: instead, she herself had laughed as merrily as the others and had commented that she had to make the most drastic changes.

The sound of footsteps broke her train of thoughts and she returned to the job at hand: checking up on the glow mite farms that had been altered, either by adding fungus or by changing the soil.

"Okay... the altered farms are farms four, five, ten and, um, twelve... Okay, four: no perceptible changes, apparently... The colony still seems active, but they haven't done anything with the new soil. Farm five... Okay, this colony seems to be dead...", she said as she saw no movement among the small glow mites. "This'll have to be replaced..." Farm ten, in which fungus had been planted, seemed to thrive, though Deirdre saw no glow mites scurry to and fro like in the other farms. "Hmm, odd... I should lift the lid and check what's going on." She took the handle and pulled the glass lid off. "Okay, let's see if they're hiding in the- ouch!" She quickly pulled back the hand she had extended to the fungus: she had clearly felt the sharp but harmless sting of electricity. "Static electricity? That can't be... Well, if it was, I shouldn't get a second shock... Ouch!" She did get another small jolt, and was now silently pondering what it could mean. 'Electrically charged fungus? Why? ...I need to measure this...' Moving to one of the cupboards, she rummaged about for a while until she found what she needed. She set up filming equipment in a hidden position opposite the farm, and connected an electrometer to the fungus stems. 'I want to know where this electricity comes from and what it does, what purposes it serves...', she thought as she flicked the light switch and exited. The filming equipment automatically switched to infrared mode, she knew, and she was anxious to see what the results of her little investigation were...

And two days later, when she looked at the video of the farm's activity and saw the electrometer output, thoughts that she didn't even dare acknowledge she had were suddenly proven to be very realistic...

She sat in Zakharov's private quarters, pondering her 'grand revelation' and how to tell her friend when he started talking about his own new findings. Deirdre's mind was very efficiently diverted from her own worries.

"Explain again, I still don't quite get it...", she said slowly as she was trying to get a grip on what he had just told her. Her friend nodded and obliged with a smile.

"Then, the doctors started searching for the source of the alien hormone, and found that our brain itself secretes it. That can only be done if the genetic material of our neurons has been changed. The cryogenic sleep must have altered our organisms – caused them to enter a state of agelessness...". Deirdre knew what it meant. Her body, his body, that of Sean and perhaps countless other people – their DNA had mutated through the severe manipulation that cryosleep was in essence. She looked at Sean, who was slowly voicing his thoughts.

"Youth hormone... this could mean... Professor," he suddenly said while turning to his mentor, "did the doctors say anything about being able to synthetically create the hormone? Because if they could... we would have – I don't know – a longevity vaccine of sorts!" Sean's words hung in the laden silence as Zakharov pondered his response – Deirdre found herself looking at him inquisitively, curious about his thoughts on the matter.

"The doctors know how I think of my agelessness", the older scientist said after a while, looking from Deirdre to Sean and back. "I consider it a nuisance, as you undoubtedly do yourselves. But I have given them permission to find a way to synthetically recreate the hormone, yes. It could have its useful applications." Sean nodded, clearly appeased with the words of his mentor, but Zakharov himself now turned to her. "Now, Deirdre, you said you have news as well?"

"You are saying we live among a giant brain?", Zakharov said, his look betraying extreme discomfort just thinking about it.

"No, we're living on a giant brain. The fungus extends into the soil as well. But I've only measured electric currents in a contained environment so far...", Deirdre said, wanting to place the results in their proper context, "There's no telling what we might find when we measure the actual fungus forests out there. Plus, I don't think it's like our brain. There seems to be no sentience. The fungus manages, but doesn't seem to manipulate." 'At least, that's what I will continue to believe until my further tests prove otherwise', she added and shuddered. Zakharov's suggestion of a game of chess was more than welcome, and the new discoveries were soon forgotten as they lapsed back into their old habits. Zakharov told merrily of having eaten ice cream again and having had a miraculously joyous conversation with the children of one of his finest assistants – Deirdre smiled as she heard him tell of the children's charming ways – and she in return told of her new attempts to make plants adapt to Planet's ecological system, which oddly ended up either as funny failures or as surprising successes. It seemed, as always, that she had to leave too soon: when the moment came, she found herself reacting lightly by saying her goodbye as she always did, with a wink. She did, however, remind him of Sean's wedding – she knew her friend's memory from on board the space ship and thus knew he was prone to forgetfulness. He thanked her for it and assured her he wouldn't forget, which made her make a mental note to remind him again the next week.

But there was something different: something inside her was protesting, struggling to gain control over her mind. The voice of protest grew louder and louder with every step she took. She was at the ground level... – 'Go back...' - outside, crossing the main street... – 'You have to go back...' - walking away from the main building, walking away from Zakharov...

'Prokhor...', Deirdre thought as she suddenly felt the voice of protest grow too loud for her to ignore any longer. She turned around, looking up to the windows where she knew he would be standing as he watched her leave – and then realisation hit her, and it hit her hard. 'I don't want to leave, I want to go back... because I...'

"Dee, c'mon... No need to go missing him already – you'll see him in a month anyway...", Sean said, casting her an odd look as he tugged on her hand, beckoning her to follow him and the guards on their way back. She followed them, but not entirely willingly any more.

Gaia's Landing - private files - Lady Deirdre Skye - diary, 19/12/2133

I've been blind, dumb and deaf for years – lulled asleep by the distance between me and him, perhaps – but now I have finally realised it myself. I love Prokhor. But I know it's too late... He may have loved me then, but after so many years... it's impossible that he still loves me now, not after so many years...