Breaking the Cycle: Chapter 4

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SOMEBODY CALLED ME SÉBASTIEN

Doina's accommodation was upstairs in a gable end of the cottage,
overlooking the lake. Her suite had a bedroom, bathroom, small lounge
and a study, all tastefully furnished in a modern style that was on the
elegant side of minimalist. Looking out of the bedroom window, she
could see the evening sun dipping down towards the distant hills. To
either side, the curvature of her enclosed new world gave the
impression of the house being at the bottom of a wide, shallow
valley.

She closed the door (pleasingly, the cottage had proper doors on hinges
you had to open and close yourself) and lay down on the bed for a few
minutes, trying to put her thoughts into some sort of order. She had so
much to think about, and her emotions were a complete muddle. It was
thrilling to have a job that involved her in undoubtedly the biggest
discovery in human history, but she was uncomfortable about being
manipulated into it so easily. Not that she believed anyone else could
have done any better, given the circumstances. One thing was certain
though, when this became public knowledge, she really would be
famous!

There were also her relations with Sébastien to consider. In some ways
she quite liked him. He was attentive and considerate, but his odd
manners were irritating at times. And the childish love of showing off
his big boy's toys, like the space plane, would have tagged him as
another boring technocrat - if it weren't for the fact he had all this
at his disposal. The reality was starting to sink in, and the
possibilities were simply limitless. He possessed the capability to do
literally anything! Doina hoped he was being truthful about how he
intended to use it. She also wondered how much control she would have
over the work he asked her to do. What would happen if we disagreed
about something? Best not to think about it right now, she
concluded.

Eventually, the smell of cooking drew her downstairs, although she made
a brief exploration of the rest of her new home before joining
Sébastien in the lounge. Despite its seemingly rustic exterior, the
inside of the cottage was the most sleek, modern and tasteful place she
had ever seen. It was organized in two distinct ways, although the
whole effect was spacious, light and airy. Rooms evidently used for
work had a sparse, clearly functional aesthetic, which contrasted
nicely with the living areas. They were comfortably furnished, with an
attention to detail that was tidy without being fussy. A noticeable
oddity was the complete lack of any light fittings. Each room's
illumination seemed to come from its entire ceiling.

In the long open plan lounge, she found Sébastien sitting in an
armchair with a drink in his hand looking out of the picture window at
one end. A grand piano, appearing rather out of place in a lakeside
cottage, stood at the other. Some modern jazz was faintly
audible.

'I thought I could smell cooking,' she said.

He turned in his seat and then stood up. 'Oh hello, Doina. Yes you can,
but I'm not cooking it. Sometimes I do, but tonight I'm feeling lazy.
The kitchen has been programmed to make the whole thing for us. Would
you like a drink before we eat?'

'Yes, please,' she replied. 'Vodka, chilled, no ice.'

'Coming right up.'

'Thanks,' she said a few moments later, taking the offered glass. A
cautious sniff followed by an appreciative mouthful revealed it to be
Wyborowa, her favourite brand. Why am I not surprised? she asked
herself. 'Do zdrowia!' she wished him.

'Cheers!'

'Is this just for show?' she asked, turning her attention to the piano.
'Or can you actually play it?'

'I used to. Last time I was here.' He clicked his fingers. The recorded
music ceased. 'Do you want me to play you something?'

'No thanks. Not right now,' she said, thinking he'd had enough
opportunities to show off for one day.

As with all the meals she had shared with Sébastien, dinner was another
series of freshly prepared vegetarian dishes, but more formally
presented than those on the plane. There was asparagus with orange
sauce, mushroom consommé, stuffed artichokes with Dauphinoise potatoes
and salad, followed by Savarin aux Fruits. Not that Doina could find
anything to complain about. Every course was excellent, as was the
crisp white wine. She had never considered giving up meat, but if all
the food here was as good as this, she might give it some serious
thought.

'I suppose you'd like me to tell you about all this from the
beginning,' said Sébastien, settling back into his chair as their empty
bowls slid into the centre of the table and disappeared soundlessly
beneath it's shiny mahogany surface. 'And specifically, how I came to
be involved.'

'It had crossed my mind to ask you, yes,' replied Doina with a smile,
hardly noticing the table's workings. This was a starship after all,
and its automated gadgets no longer surprised her. Candles that
automatically ignited when they seated themselves seemed a natural
table decoration here, hardly deserving of comment.

'It's quite straightforward, really. When Mother discovers a new
civilization, she watches patiently for a few years and collects all
the data she can. However intelligent she is from a machine perspective
though, she has trouble interpreting much of what she's collected, and
even less chance of understanding it. That requires help. Local help,
in the form of a native who can explain it all to her. Fortunately,
Mother's builders foresaw difficulties of this sort and programmed her
to operate proactively when required.'

'Ah, I see now,' said Doina. 'You're a go-between!' She frowned. 'But
how did Mother select you for the job?'

'During her initial investigations, she despatched some small robot
probes to Earth, discretely collecting as many physical samples as
possible, animal, mineral and vegetable. It's forbidden to abduct
members of a sentient species, of course, but eventually she obtained
some human genetic material and successfully produced¦'

'A clone!' interrupted Doina. 'You're a test-tube baby.'

'Yes, I suppose that's true. You see, Mother really is my
mother.'

Doina's mouth was wide open and stayed that way for several seconds.
'So Mother bred a pet human to allow her to communicate with the human
race when she reveals herself.'

'Not exactly. Principally, my job is to explain the human race to her.
Only when she's decided it's safe to exchange information, would
contact be made. That's why we're hidden here behind the Moon in one of
the Earth/Moon system's gravity nulls.'

'I see. How long has Mother been here?'

'Thirty-five years'

'Why so long?'

'Thirty-five years isn't long to Mother. It took her forty-five to get
here from the last system she visited. She spends as much time
exploring as she needs to, before moving on.'

'No, I mean why has she taken so long before deciding to communicate
with us?'

'You're a rational, well educated person, aren't you?'

'I've always thought so, why?' she asked, puzzled by his change of
direction.

'And how did you react when you found out about this?'

'I was shocked, of course... at first. But now I'm getting used to the
idea, I suppose...' She tailed off, understanding precisely the point
he was making.

'How do you think the rest of humanity will react? Culture shock is a
real phenomenon and Mother is always very cautious. She's been doing
what any sensible explorer should, watching and listening before making
contact.'

'Yes, but why now? Why the twenty-first century?' asked Doina. 'Only a
couple of hundred years ago, it wouldn't have mattered how long she
waited before making contact - the people back then wouldn't have
understood anyway.'

'Mother is here now because she picked up humanity's first radio
signals, early in the twentieth century. Naturally, she came straight
here. Radio signals mean a civilization with a basic technical
capability.'

'What if she had discovered humanity by accident, two hundred years
ago, before we had radio?'

'She wouldn't have made contact. She'd only have gathered data. But she
might have hung around for a while, if we were making good progress. As
I said, she's been exploring for ten thousand years. A few hundred
years spent here or there don't make much difference to her. Not if
there's a planet worth studying.'

'Oh, I see.' They both sat in silence for a few moments, thinking. 'How
do you feel, being the minion of a machine?' asked Doina
eventually.

'I'm not really aware of it. It's all I know. I have all the challenges
and opportunities for fulfilment that any human being could ever want.
I'm lucky - look around you.'

'Yes, I reckon you are at that,' agreed Doina. 'You can do exactly as
you please, when it pleases you, without any interference from anyone.
How simply marvellous!'

'There are drawbacks, of course. Loneliness is top of the list, I
suppose. I feel it more in retrospect, now I've been to Earth. My
childhood, that is. It would have been nice to grow up with a family
around me.'

'Families are not always the happy throng they're made out to be'
replied Doina. 'I was lonely as a child, too. My father never got over
the disappointment of his first-born being a girl. As if it were my
fault! He wanted a male heir for his media business, you see.'

'Don't you have a couple of brothers?'

'Oh yes, the twins. Not a shred of sense in either of them. The irony
is that I'm the only one with a career in the media.' She shrugged. It
was a dead topic for her, the anger long since burned out. 'But we were
talking about you. What if you hadn't wanted this job?'

'Mother would have returned me to Earth and bred someone else to do it.
As I said, she has plenty of time.'

'Wouldn't it have given her secret away? Returning you to Earth.'

'Hardly. Who could I have told? I'd have been locked up. You only
believe it because you're up here with me and can see it with your own
eyes.'

'True,' smiled Doina. 'So tell me, what has your life consisted of so
far?' It occurred to her that a tape of this interview would be
priceless. If only she still had her pocket recorder!

'I spent my first nineteen years here, growing up, being educated, that
sort of thing. Ten years ago, we decided I should experience Earth
firsthand, and I've lived there ever since. Travel to and from Earth is
risky so we've kept it to an absolute minimum.'

'How did you learn about Earth while you were up here?'

'Mostly from television and¦'

'Television?' she interrupted with an inadvertent laugh. 'No wonder
you're strange. If I believed everything I saw on TV, I'd be very
confused, and I'm involved in making it!'

'I didn't say I believed it all,' he said. 'I simply watched and drew
my own conclusions.'

'Sorry,' said Doina, fearing her interruption might make him less
forthcoming. 'You don't mind my asking all this? I expect it's rather
personal.' She was utterly fascinated by the thought of this strange
being sitting in his starship watching her programmes. If only she'd
known! But she realized he couldn't have. Her first TV appearances had
been only five years ago, after he had arrived on Earth.

'I'd be surprised if you didn't want to know,' he replied. 'As I said,
we need to trust each other completely. Ask me whatever you
like.'

Intrigued, she couldn't help wondering aloud, 'Have you ever slept with
a woman?'

'Of course I have! What do you think I did down on Earth for ten years?
It wasn't all work, you know.'

'Sorry,' she apologized again. Whatever was she thinking of? Her
question had been impolite at best. Sébastien had invited "any
questions", but it was not an excuse for her to get too personal,
especially when she should be trying to establish a sound working
relationship with the man who was employing her. A man who, she
reminded herself, was going to change the course of human history all
by himself. 'What did you make of Earth when you first got
there?'

'I was terrified. Confused. Completely unprepared for any of it. A bit
like you must have felt today, I suppose, coming into my environment
for the first time.'

'True,' she acknowledged. 'But I knew nothing about any of this, and
you said you'd been studying us.'

'I thought I had, but the reality was completely different. Which is
sort of why I had to go there, really. Up here, despite having learned
a great deal about Earth and its people from direct observation and the
ship's records, I had real difficulty explaining to Mother why human
beings did what they did. The reason was simple enough: although I'm
human, I'd never known anyone else! I'd never lived among other people.
Earth's ways were almost as strange to me as they were to
Mother.'

'Yes, I can understand that,' she agreed.

'The solution was obvious: I needed to spend some time on Earth, among
its people, before returning to the ship. Once I had finished
explaining everything to Mother, I could remain on Earth when she
left.'

'But there was a problem¦'

'Problem?'

'Yes, something hasn't worked out as you originally planned it. If all
you need is to explain the human race to Mother, you can do it now. You
don't need me for that. So why am I here?'

'You're very quick, Doina - and very right. Yes, after ten years on
Earth, I was not only running out of time, I was running out of
patience. I needed to come back up to the ship and finish reporting
everything I'd learned, before Mother left for her next destination.
But I'm not happy about staying on Earth in its current
situation.'

'What do you mean?'

'What do you think? The place is a mess. The last ten years have been
utterly chaotic, with genocidal civil wars, terrorism and environmental
exploitation - and it doesn't seem to be getting any better.'

'Unfortunately, I'd have agree with you there,' Doina replied
quietly.

'My problem is, after years of studying their affairs from up here, I
have little sympathy for what I see as humanity's petty squabbling.
Quite naturally, I have a different, rather more detached view.'

'I can understand that, too,' nodded Doina.

'Yes, and it seems to me quite obvious that Mother's knowledge and
power can be used for good. This starship represents a
once-in-a-millennium opportunity for someone to do something positive
to help the people of Earth - the very people I will have to live among
when she leaves. That someone can only be me. I alone have been
presented with the chance to do something about it.'

'What does Mother think of this idea of yours?'

'I've no idea what she actually thinks of it, but it's within her
mission programming to make contact and exchange information. What I
aim to do is make sure her knowledge is used properly.'

'How do you mean?'

'I know it won't be simple. Huge fortunes can be made by those with the
means to apply the new science I have access to. You know as well as I
do, that when real money and power are at stake, there won't be a
shortage of people eager to get their hands on it. And often, they're
the sort of people who care little for the ideals of others. The key to
success lies in selecting the right people to receive the starship's
knowledge. That's the hard bit. I've thought long and hard about how to
do that. Someone has to select them, and it's too big a job for one
person. What I need is an organization that can be trusted to carry it
through properly, and can be held accountable by everyone.'

'It sounds fine in theory, but who is there?'

'The only one I can think of, is the United Nations.'

'The UN?' asked Doina, sitting back in her chair. 'Are you mad? They're
virtually powerless these days. For a start, they're beholden to the
few governments that provide most of their funds. Those same
governments use the UN when it suits them, and ignore it otherwise, to
the point where it's become almost irrelevant.'

'Sadly, I agree with you. However, it has the right objectives and
structure, and that's a start. How to empower it is one problem, and
how to ensure it remains accountable to everyone once I've done so, is
another. The key to the second bit, I realized, is mass communication.
Public opinion cannot be ignored if it's loud enough and persistent
enough. I need to get Earth's ordinary people on my side, explain what
I'm trying to do, and motivate them to ensure the UN does what it's
supposed to.'

'I still don't agree with you, Sébastien, but I think I see where
you're going with this.'

'Do you? Well, given my background, it won't surprise you that I'm no
great orator. Which is frustrating, because knowing what needs to be
done and having the will to do it isn't enough. I don't have the
necessary abilities, such as the communication skills and practical
experience of everyday politics that are necessary to achieve the
results I want.'

'And that's what you needed help with?'

'Yes, but real politicians quickly disillusioned me. They're the
products of a system that most often, it seems to me, was designed to
stifle progress in any real sense. Advances in human civilization seem
to happen despite them, rather than because of them.'

'Sébastien, for someone who's only spent ten years on Earth, you catch
on pretty quickly.'

'Analysing things is what I do. That's the easy bit. Finding practical
solutions is another matter.'

'Sadly, I agree. Lots of people have tried to improve politics, and
most of them have failed - miserably. I don't need to give you
examples; you'll know them already. And I don't want you to think I'm
being negative or disrespectful, but what makes you think you can
succeed where they all failed?' she asked.

'Two things. Firstly, I have Mother here. Her mere presence will
concentrate minds. And second: I have no other choice. This job is who
I am. My life has no other purpose.'

'What's your solution then?'

'The right people. I need individuals untainted by previous exercise of
power, but who know how these things work, while having kept their
ideals intact.'

'Since I'm here with you now, I guess you mean me.'

Sébastien nodded. 'There are plenty of people on Earth with good
intentions, but no practical experience, and unfortunately, the ones
with the know-how seem to have lost their idealism.'

'You're right. It's not a very common combination, in my
experience.'

'For the last couple of years, I've been searching for the right person
to help me - fruitlessly, it seemed. Until I began to think the two
criteria were mutually exclusive. I started to despair of ever finding
anyone suitable. Then one day I saw you presenting a television
programme.'

***

Over coffee, back in the lounge, Doina was again preoccupied with her
own thoughts. What Sébastien had told her seemed reasonable, taken at
face value, but that didn't mean any of it was true. If it were not,
how could she find out? And if she did discover it was all a cunning
lie, concealing some awful secret plan, what could she do about it?
Probably nothing, unless she wanted to end up dead. She was under no
illusions about how powerless she was here, and as Sébastien himself
had acknowledged, the pursuit of real power often makes people
ruthless. However, the only explanation she had for being here, was
that she was required to provide a service. Maybe willingly if she
could be duped into doing it, or by coercion if she refused. He had
mentioned mass communication, which was what she did, so maybe her role
was to be propaganda, telling the people of Earth what their new master
wanted.

There was no way for her to find out in any conclusive way. Despite
what he had said about unrestricted access, she had no doubt that
almost anything could be concealed from her in a starship of this size.
It was so big, it would take her years to explore it all on her own.
No, there was no possibility of her accidentally stumbling over some
incriminating evidence, such as a fleet of landing ships, all ready for
an invasion.

What could she do then? The only weapon she had was her wits, and the
only target she had was Sébastien himself. She had always prided
herself on being able to read people, and although she had initially
found him rather strange, she now knew why. The problem was that he was
either completely transparent, meaning he was always telling the truth,
or a totally opaque liar. There was no middle ground. But everyone has
a weakness - you just have to find out what it is. On the plane, she
had been surprised by his vehemence at a throwaway remark of hers. In
addition to taking things too literally, it meant he had a temper. And
when provoked, people often say things they never would in calm
conversation. Could she needle him into revealing something? It had to
be worth a try, if only for her own peace of mind. She could always
apologize afterwards.

'You're really an alien aren't you Sébastien?' she declared. 'This
whole ship is full of aliens who are plotting to invade the Earth using
me as a renegade propagandist before I'm consigned to a selective
breeding program for tame human sex slaves¦'

Sébastien grinned widely and then burst into laughter. Doina frowned at
him. Her accusation was not intended to be funny. Although when she
realized he was genuinely amused, and not laughing at her, she found
his merriment becoming infectious and could only just keep from
grinning back at him.

'I was wondering when you would accuse me of not being human,' he said,
disappearing into the kitchen. He returned with a small cook's knife,
putting it on the coffee table in front of her. He looked serious now
as he rolled up his sleeve. 'Doina, it's important to me that we trust
each other completely. I swear to you that I am not an alien, or an
android. I don't have green blood and there are no wires or servos in
here. I'm as human as you are - and if you want proof¦' He gestured
towards the knife.

Doina picked it up and stood facing him. She was not laughing now. You
self-possessed smart-arse, she thought. She really ought to cut into
him, just a little, to teach him that bluff doesn't always work.
Suddenly she had a better idea, and put her arms around him. He felt
real enough when she squeezed. Looking up into his face, she pressed
her mouth against his. Taken unawares he resisted, but she persisted,
pushing her tongue between his lips until she felt him relax, then
gradually respond to her kiss. She kept going until he began to return
her embrace, running his hands gently over her back and felt the warmth
of his body against hers. She pulled away.

'Now I believe you, Sébastien,' she said, sitting down again. She
expected him to be angry, but instead he looked bewildered for a few
moments, until eventually a slow smile spread across his face.

'I suppose I deserved that,' he said. 'It was a good kiss though, thank
you. For a moment I was wondering whether you were serious about
becoming a tame human sex slave.'

How does he do it? Doina thought. Kill off a potentially pleasant
moment with such a naff remark. He must have taken lessons, she
concluded, you don't get like that naturally.

***

That night, Doina couldn't get to sleep. In her dimly illuminated
bedroom with its ordinary furnishings, the wonders of the ship seemed
less intrusive and, for the first time since arriving, she had time to
think about the situation she had left behind on Earth. Having an
exciting new job hadn't suddenly cancelled out all of her troubles -
they ran deeper than that. In fact, she realized, this job would create
as many new problems as it solved existing ones. She couldn't decide
which was causing her more anxiety: facing up to the challenges of an
unknown future or the inescapable certainty of her past mistakes.

Her insomnia was not only due to having a lot on her mind. This place
was simply so silent, totally unlike the continuous rhythmic noise and
bustle of her familiar city. Sébastien excepted, she was now more
remote from other people than she had ever been in her entire life. It
took a while for her to realize she felt desperately lonely, and
another hour of sleepless fidgeting before she decided to do something
about it.

Slipping on a dressing gown over her pyjamas, she went and knocked on
Sébastien's door. 'Can I come in?' she asked.

'Umm, what? Oh, yes of course,' he replied sleepily.

She sat down on the end of his bed. 'Sébastien?'

'What's on your mind, Doina?'

'Can I come in here to sleep? I don't like being on my own.'

'With me? Well yes, I suppose so. Come on in.' he said, folding back
one side of his duvet.

'I, er¦ didn't quite mean like that,' said Doina carefully. 'What I
wanted was your help to move my bed in here.'

'Oh, right,' he said. 'Okay then, if it will make you feel better. I
thought you might be teasing me again.'

'No. Oh look, Sébastien, I'm really sorry about that. It was the only
alternative I could come up with. You wouldn't really have let me cut
you open, would you?'

He nodded slowly. 'If you had needed proof that much, I would have let
you. I thought your idea was better, but I bet you wouldn't have been
interested if I'd suggested it.'

'Touché,' she acknowledged. 'Anyway, I promise not to molest you any
more.'

'I wasn't complaining, believe me,' he smiled. 'Okay, let's go and get
your bed.'

***

Lucien Romano, 2005