A Visitor to the Future - 139 - Breaking Through
We spent far longer than planned with the Abnormals - I was grateful for the fact that Gatecrash had in fact anticipated this and built extra contingency time into our flight plan. I barely saw Sarkona, who spent most of their time engrossing themself in as many projects as they could - with Tungsten happily joining them. That left the trio of Gatecrash, Anode, and Regolith, who spent their time knee-deep in the infrastructure of the station. As for me, I largely did my own thing. I was glad of the opportunity to practice my Human among native speakers. On Earth, there was an almost consistent dialect which I'd become used to, but among the Abnormals I was becoming a lot more aware of the various spacing dialects. It was interesting to see who favored different word choices, and the trends among those who spent a lot of time together.
I also spent a great deal of time playing Contact with anyone who would join. I lost almost every match - such was the nature of playing against people who took great pride in enhancing their bodies - but I learned a great deal. As it turned out, biodevelopers with hundreds of years of knowledge and experience with human biology could tell you a lot about how to get the best out of your own body.
It was during one such game of Contact that I found myself among interesting company. Vion had become a regular partner, and was one of the people I had learned the most from considering she'd maintained a human form for most of her life. She shared traditional exercise techniques with me which she still did regularly, describing her approach as the best of both worlds, combining technology and personal effort.
Krenier was her polar opposite in many ways. A CI by birth, he'd long-since moved his mind into a removable insert for biological bodies. He had two of them - muscle-bound, almost identical - which he alternated between. The purpose of that alternation was for the body to undergo a maintenance cycle, as he had no time or patience for the upkeep of the body. In this manner he could constantly wear a human-like biological body without needing to rest, eat, sleep, or exercise. It was rare that he joined us, losing himself in his research for the most part. He was a workaholic, a trait that was rare to see, given how most people in the Consortium viewed what I would call work-life balance, and what they would call healthy time management.
We'd started talking about the biodev breakthrough, though I can't recall how we'd gotten to the topic. Meandering conversations were pretty normal in the presence of the Abnormals.
"All I'm saying," said Krenier as he effortlessly beat my Contact time, "Is that had they known what we do today about Biodev, they might have wanted to hold back on the initial rollout of modifications."
"Krenier, I disagree," responded Vion. Her knack for diplomacy made the expression one of grace, even considering the outright rejection of his argument. "Completely and utterly. Krenier, you do know that we're talking about the widespread end of aging here? Not just the cosmetic and superficial changes that came after?"
"Oh," said Krenier, raising his eyebrows, "Alright, fair point. Slipped my mind."
I couldn't resist probing the matter further. Some of the others had told me that Vion had been on the front line of the breakthrough. I'd been curious about what that meant.
"Do you mind if I ask what it was like to experience the breakthrough firsthand?" I asked them both, "Most of my friends are too young to have experienced it - and I've yet to have the opportunity to discuss it with my older friends."
Vion gestured at Krenier to invite him to speak first, but he held up a hand in refusal, "I think your experience is more relevant than mine," he said, "I was assembled just after the breakthrough. You lived before it."
"Are you looking for a professional or personal view?" asked Vion, "As a scientist or as a person?"
"Both," I said, "Both are good."
"I can do that. I suppose context is in order first. I was ninety-seven when the first news started rolling out. Two sons, a daughter, eight grandchildren, and a great-grandchild on the way. It wasn't a bad time to be old. I considered myself lucky - I was still of relatively sound mind, but my body was anything but. I had Grantham's Wasting Syndrome - it was a particularly nasty condition that occured in those who lived in low gravity," she chuckled, a small smile appearing on her lips, "They used to call it 80-80 - so called because if you were lucky enough to reach eighty, there was an eighty percent chance you had it already. I was a statistical anomaly at ninety-seven, having lived on Mars my entire life."
Krenier cocked his head, "Wasn't it treatable?"
Vion shook her head, "They could treat it with muscle grafts, a treatment which became less effective with age, and eventually wouldn't take at all. I was immobile."
She gestured to one of the anchoring mats in the garden, and we moved over there to rest and talk.
"I was never bored though, always busy. I spent most of my time listening to audiobooks, podcasts, and the news on the Infranet. Then there were visits from the family, the nurse drones and their pills and injections, and time with my therapists. There were a few medical colleagues I stayed in touch with, fellow doctors, though unfortunately I was at that point in my life where I'd outlived most of my friends. My husband had passed nearly a decade before."
"My condolences," I said instinctively.
Vion laughed, "A rare expression that I've not heard in a while - and appreciated. I've long since made my peace with it. I sense you have a question to ask, though?"
I nodded, "You said fellow doctors - does that mean...?"
"Yes, I hold a doctorate. Though that title has fallen out of regular use, I was once known as Dr. Vion Harkon. I was once one of the leading minds on cellular senescence."
"No longer?" I asked.
She laughed, "Not by a long shot. My strengths lie elsewhere now. Where was I? Ah. There came a week where the Infranet lit up with some sensational articles - I thought it was a passing trend. I vaguely remember the article titles. Scientists were apparently confident that they'd invented a way to slow the rate of aging, and they were to begin clinical trials shortly. I scoffed at the news - for I'd been seeing similar headlines my entire life, and my own scientific background had taught me to be skeptical of such claims. I turned them off and went back to my audiobooks - at least, until during a routine check-up, the Consortium notified me that a relevant clinical trial was available which might help with the management of my condition."
"She said no," interjected Krenier jokingly, "End of story, bleh, dead."
She smiled and shook her head, "To no-one's shock, I said yes. I was ideal for the trial because of my mental state - not many people of my advanced age had the appropriate capacity to consent. I suppose despite my skepticism, the Doctor part of me wanted to be of use to medical science - so I agreed."
"What happened?" I asked.
Vion held her response for a moment, staring off into the distance, "It wasn't immediate. There were side effects and issues, some of which took years to get to the bottom of. Kidney failure was the most common side-effect of the trial, and I was no exception. When that happened, I almost felt like quitting. But there was some part of me that refused to be defeated. After all, I'd always been a stubborn woman. The solution to the kidney failure was mechanical dialysis and constant monitoring. It wasn't pleasant, but given I was already bedbound it was no great sacrifice. So I sat there, listening to my audiobooks. So many audiobooks. I think... at some point they became something of a curse. I'd always enjoyed them, but when you have no other choice, day after day..."
There was a familiar look in her eyes. I suddenly recalled seeing it in hospital mirrors. Had I forgotten so quickly? Watching TV from my bed, because it was better than staring at the ceiling...
She blinked and the expression faded, her resolve now writ upon her features, "...until one day my granddaughter brought my great-grandchild to visit. And the month after, and the month after that. It seemed a little more bearable after that. That was one cute kid. My granddaughter made great crethica too."
I smiled, "I still need to try some crethica. At this point, I'm waiting for Mars - to get the authentic experience."
"Oh, try the Mars-grown varieties, not the ones from the orbital hydroponics stations, trust me," said Vion, "Anyway, the trial ran its course. Over the twelve months of the trial I had apparently only aged the biological equivalent of a single month. The scientists celebrated their success, and one of them sent me a gift basket. I remember being a little annoyed that a bottle of liqueur was included - that was a little tasteless, considering how many of us had suffered kidney failure. The treatment became available across the entire Consortium as an aging suppressant, and I went back to my audiobooks."
"That wasn't it, though?"
"Right. Because another six months later, I had still only aged the equivalent of a single month. It turned out that I was part of a small percentage of trial participants who had responded to the treatment far better than expected. I had almost entirely stopped aging."
"What was different about you?" I asked.
"It took them a great deal of time to figure out the answer to that question - but essentially, one of my medications had reacted with the treatment. That interaction was one of the many moments of inspiration that led to the field of biodevelopment. The discovery that it was possible to effect long-term, stable and complex lasting changes to the human genome, even after birth."
"And after that?"
"The slow return from old age as biodevelopment matured, and more treatments became available. For instance, I remember listening to one of my audiobooks one day and thinking that it was one of the better ones they had made recently. In retrospect, it wasn't actually the audiobook - it was me. A fog had lifted from my mind that I hadn't even realised was there. A few months after that, I felt like some of my old fire had returned. It had never been truly gone, but the intensity had ramped up a little. I reached out to some old colleagues to ask if there was anything I could do to help - and then - still bedbound - I started campaigning on the Infranet. I met Formerly not long after that. We had a lot of common ground."
"And from there, the Abnormals?"
"Mm-hmm. In those early days our messaging and campaigning was a little immature. I'd like to think I helped to fix those issues."
"She's being modest," said Krenier, "She became one of the most influential political figures of the time. Her speech on medical autonomy on Eru is still studied today."
"The speech gets all the attention," responded Vion, crossing her arms in annoyance, "I'd like it if the rehab specialists I spent six months with got some praise instead. Six whole months relearning how to walk, building strength." She uncrossed her arms and flexed them, a strange expression on her face as she stared at the well-developed arm. "My face was also like a prune. So many wrinkles."
"Superficial," said Krenier, "The important thing is you showed that both aging 80-80 could be beaten." He looked to me, his expression serious. "We Abnormals place a great deal of focus on physical appearances - but that is only because we have that option as a luxury. It is health that matters the most."
"That seems like a perfect segue into your experiences, no?" said Vion mischievously.
"Ah, tactfully done as ever," replied Krenier, "That woman can't help but be as smooth as ice. Yes, my experiences would come from the side of health too - but not physical health. Tell me, do you know of cruyhin?"
The last word was said in Verrin, the language unfamiliar to me. I wracked my brain, "I can't say so."
"It's relevant to CI development, especially in early years. CIs have to be monitored for signs of it - which is essentially the term for missing sensations that only the human body can provide."
"Like?"
"Swallowing. The feeling of the air on your skin. Taste. Touch. Sweating. Things you have no doubt taken for granted during your life - not to assume, of course, but things that come and occur naturally to you. To summarise, one in one hundred CIs suffer from Craving at some point in their lives. When I was younger, I was almost crippled by it. Anxiety, depression - none of the available artificial body parts relieved my anxieties. And both neural link and bio-development technologies were not mature enough for the sensations to be made fully equivalent. The best way I can put it would be replacing your fingers with spoons - they're meant to be fingers, but instead they're spoons."
"I think I get it," I said, using the English terms I knew, "It's like dysmorphia or dysphoria for humans?"
Krenier looked confused, not able to speak the language, but Vion nodded, "More or less - but both you and Krenier are using dated terms. Cruyhin, dysmorphia..."
"I'm a little dated," I replied, "So that makes sense."
"Both English and Verrin are so imprecise," she continued. She reeled off the Human phrase, which was more descriptive - extreme dissatisfaction with one's own mechanical body was the best, most direct translation.
"Is there a cure?" I asked.
"Provide those sensations," supplied Krenier, "In the modern day, we can simulate those sensations perfectly, or provide the CI with the relevant parts to experience them themselves. You must have seen CIs with human bodies, or synthetic equivalent body parts, right? They're probably one of the one-in-one-hundred who suffer from cruyhin."
"Sometimes CIs just like those sensations, too," said Vion, "It's not always the root cause. I'd also like to add that born humans can suffer from the same condition too too - we sometimes see this with people who choose to make large modifications to their bodies, such as a human adopting a mechanical form or a non-humanoid one."
"The ratio is far lower, though," added Kernier, "Studies tell us that those who are likely to suffer from cruyhin are unlikely to significantly modify their bodies in the first place."
"Ah, so it's most obvious among CIs, who are born with synthetic components?" I asked.
"Yes - exactly," Krenier responded, nodding.
Vion nodded too, "One of the pieces of work that we Abnormals are most proud of is the Biological Accessibility Programme - which gives all CIs the chance to experience biological body parts at a young age. Many of them show no interest, but among those who do, the Consortium can pick up on the early signs of issues. Then CIs are then more aware of their options, and just choose whatever makes them comfortable."
"Does the opposite ever... oh, wait," I stopped myself, realising I already had the answer. "Formerly is an example, isn't she? She prefers not to experience a body?"
"I think she'd say so," confirmed Vion.
"These solutions are moons away from when I was younger," said Krenier, "Before the breakthrough enabled the development of, well, this," he pointed at his own body, "I spent thousands of hours in imperfect virtual reality simulations of a human body, and who knows how many hours in therapy, learning coping techniques and how to manage my resulting anxieties. When biological parts became widely available due to bio-development, I cried with relief. Well, not literally - tear ducts weren't immediately available, but I think you see my point."
"I do," I said, "Thank you for sharing that."
"Well, this has been interesting but I must be back to my projects," said Krenier, "I might join you again tomorrow, if you're game." He pushed off the mat and began to float away from us.
Vion turned toward me. "You... get it, don't you?" she asked, cryptically.
"I'm not quite sure what it is."
She smiled, "That there was a time when medical science didn't have the answer for our diseases and conditions."
"Oh. Yeah."
She sighed, "The older CIs, they've had their immortality for longer than us. The younger humans don't know a world without bio-dev. Even among those of the bio-dev generation, only a relatively small percentage of us were close to death. You and I, we've stared into the eyes of death."
"You're not wrong," I said, "Sometimes it does make things feel a little surreal."
"For certain," Vion agreed, "Though the nice thing about staring into the eyes of death is that you're close enough to slap him."
I laughed at the wording and mental image it invoked. "That was the last thing I expected you to say, Vion."
"It's true though - that's always been one of the mission goals of the Abnormals."
"Slapping the personification of death?" I joked, "Because that might be hard to pull off."
"You should see our theater plays. In all seriousness, I mean reminding people. Biodev has many of the answers for the problems facing human biology. It does not have all of them. There are unknowns that we need to prepare for. It is the experiences of people like me - and you - that remind us of that. The younger generations, though far wiser than I was when I was their age, can sometimes seem a little complacent on that front."
"Because they've never stared death in the face," I said.
"And they've certainly never slapped him, turned, and run, as you feel him chasing after you, his footfalls pounding ever closer."
I paused for a moment, mulling over her words. "Is there any way I can help?"
Vion smiled a full-toothed grin of delight. "Without a doubt. Why, you're already doing it."
I didn't immediately know what Vion meant, but her words stuck with me. The only immediate change was when I noticed that my Infranet article had been subject to a number of revisions. Personal tidbits I'd shared with the various members of the Abnormals had been verified and written in, and there was now a section labeled "Role in Biodevelopment" which referenced the interplay between techniques common to cryocontainment and bio-development. What had been a fairly lightweight page now painted the picture of a person deeply connected to the origins of cryocontainment and biodevelopment. I read through it carefully. I still wasn't sure that I'd earned any of their words, but I could not fault them - after all, they were all true.
A week after that, I received a message from a teacher at an orchard town on Earth. He informed me that the children of the town were studying me as a project, and asked if I wouldn't mind answering a few questions about my experiences with long-term illness.
I sent a response, and in a moment of reflection, published that response on the Infranet. Which of course, prompted more questions. I answered those as well. While some questions were focused on my medical experiences, the vast majority of children just wanted to know what life was like in the twenty-first century. I was happy to try and paint a picture for them.
When we finally, and sadly, left the Abnormals a week later, I was drinking some juice in the kitchen of the Boiling Point when Gatecrash approached me.
"Morning Nat," they said warmly, "You've got to tell me your secrets! What have you been up to?"
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Well," my friend said, sitting across from me, "I got some messages from my students this morning. Apparently they got the idea that I'm friends with the Nat McEwan."
"Huh."
"So I had a look, and it turns out that yesterday you got onto a daily Infranet list of popular school subjects under historical figures. Here, I can show you if you want."
My friend took my tablet and began navigating to the area. But it wasn't that which drew my attention. It was the number of messages next to the mail icon in the top-right of the interface.
There were thousands of them. As it turns out, children very much like doing school projects on historical figures they can actually talk to.
I rolled up my sleeves and started answering questions, using the Consortium to group and answer similar questions at once. It seemed like a nice way to pass some of the journey to Mars.
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