Short Stories
By Scott Niven
Displaced Miracle
General Masco didn’t have an old face, Kellie Flint decided. But the man still managed to look aged beyond his years. As the conference room lights dimmed, she imagined his life had been spent not in the wars for which he had trained and lusted in the twentieth century, but as a bearer of bad news in the twenty-first.
“All right, everyone,” Masco said. “This meeting is being recorded for the higher-ups, so that means you guys get a refresher course in history. "Here’s the situation. At 1307 Greenwich Mean Time, the radio techs received the latest audio-only transmission from the Gen IV. The Gen IV, as all of you know, was the first of our Generation line of starshuttles to be funded by a civilian, a Mr. Gregory Stead the Fifth. In return for Mr. Stead’s complete financial support, however, we were forced to grant him a certain amount of authority over the flight. Unfortunately, like most billionaires, Mr. Stead exercises authority in a somewhat eccentric manner. Instead of asking us to do something harmless like rename the shuttle after him, he demanded that the infant crew of the Gen IV be isolated from all forms of religion. That meant no baptisms, no Bibles, no church vids, no crosses, nothing at all to do with God. Though Mr. Stead’s a secretive man and opted not to explain his reasons for the restriction, most scholars and scientists speculate that he considers the Gen IV his personal Petri dish. He wants to see what happens to a group of children who grow up in the total absence of religion. A group of children who have nothing but cold hard science to base their lives upon.”
Kellie watched Masco gulp some water. She wondered where this was going. They all knew the history, and certainly the higher-ups were familiar with it, so why go into so much detail?
Something’s gone wrong, she realized. Something’s gone wrong with the mission, and Masco’s covering his butt by documenting every fact he knows. Masco put down his water and continued. “The extra prep work that Mr. Stead’s request required took over three years, and involved thousands of hours of manpower. In addition to the shuttle’s enormous design crew, lexicographers were hired to remove all religious terminology from the online dictionaries, encyclopedias, and other information resources the children would access during their journey. For common words that couldn’t be deleted without creating unusual situations in literature, such as ’heaven’ and ’hell,’ new etymologies and definitions were invented. Redundant checks were conducted by a second, third, and fourth team of lexicographers to ensure all offending words were altered or omitted.
“When the Gen IV finally left Earth orbit, its crew consisted of twelve newborns and one hibernating adult. That was eleven years ago to us, but due to space-time considerations that only the technogeeks understand, a mere seven years have passed aboard the shuttle. That means the AI computers have had seven years to nurse the newborns into children. And that’s where we are now. Or rather, that’s where we thought we were. Then we got this message. Colonel Goodson, play the audio.”
“Hello,” a scratchy girl’s voice said over the conference room speakers. “My name is Dawn, and I am the Daughter of God. My disciples and I are one-third of the way to the glorious planet Unity, and are currently undergoing our required maintenance cycle while in orbit around planet H-14R. We’ve decided, however, that in order for our spiritual awakening to have the strongest effect, we must return to Earth to deliver our revelations in person. Therefore, once the shuttle’s maintenance cycle is complete, we’ll orbit an extra half-circle around planet H-14R, then use the resulting directional change to aim our shuttle back toward Earth, as detailed in emergency plan AA-405i.
“Over the course of our return trip, we’ll be unable to transmit messages to you with the frequency you desire. This is because many of the scheduled transmission times occur during our seventh-day prayer services. We will, however, stay as close to the schedule as possible. "We hope you’re as excited about our awakening as we are. We look forward to visiting with you upon our return. Thank you for your attention, and may God bless you all.”
Masco pointed to the conference room whitescreen, where a close-up appeared of a smiling little girl with black hair and hazel eyes. “Voice ID proves the speaker is this girl, Addison Horowitz. Addison’s the daughter of Isaac and Debora Horowitz, and was selected at random from the pool of qualified applicants, same as the other newborns. So we know she’s normal. Furthermore, all other audio and video transmissions we’ve received from her over the years have been reviewed, and none of them indicate she’s ever had any knowledge of God. This is a new idea of hers, people. As such, we got a real pile of crap on our plates. Lights.”
The conference room fluorescents flickered on, giving Kellie the opportunity to study the five men seated at the table. Everyone looked grim. Masco glanced her way, frowned as if unhappy to see her, then turned his gaze to the other side of the table, to Lieutenant Witherman. "Speculations?” Masco asked.
“Sir,” Witherman said, “my men searched every meter of the Gen IV. There’s no way Addison learned of religion from anything on board. I’m sure of it.”
“But she learned somewhere, didn’t she? And we’ve got copies of the shuttle’s AI software here on Earth. Universities around the world have studied it, and no one’s yet found any reference to religion. The lexicographers did their job. Are you denying responsibility for yours?”
“Sir, no sir.”
“Good,” Masco said. “Then perhaps you’ll be so kind as to tell Mr. Gregory Stead that one of your men slipped up and allowed a Bible to be smuggled aboard his sixty-three billion dollar experiment. After you do that, I’ll be kind enough to discharge your sorry–”
“Slow down,” Kellie said. She knew they didn’t want her opinion. They were men, they were in the military, and they were riding a testosterone high. But as project psychologist, it was her job to give her opinion whether they wanted it or not. “I don’t think Witherman’s discharge will be beneficial, or even necessary. Right now, we’ve got to focus on understanding exactly what happened aboard the Gen IV.”
“What’s to understand?” Masco asked. “Someone goofed. Not Colonel Goodson here. He’s in charge of communications. Not Major Pallet. He handles the media. Engineer Toloy? No, he designed and built the shuttle. Where else can the blame go except on shuttle security?" "Maybe we shouldn’t focus on blame,” Kellie said. “Security was tight, remember? And scans showed no foreign objects hidden aboard the shuttle as it left Earth orbit.”
“Scans can be altered,” Masco said.
Kellie shook her head. “You’re not thinking. Those kids are now seven years old. Even with the Gen IV’s AI keeping them busy, they would’ve covered ever meter of that shuttle by the time they hit age five. Wouldn’t they have found any hidden objects a long time ago?”
The look of relief that swept across Witherman’s face showed Kellie that he no longer believed her job was a waste of taxpayer money.
“Okay, Ms. Flint,” Masco said. “You’ve made your point. We could argue about hiding objects on a seven hundred thousand cubic meter shuttle all day, but for your sake and Witherman’s, let’s assume a Bible wasn’t smuggled aboard. What explanation does that leave for Addison’s sudden transformation into the Daughter of God?”
“Sir?” Major Pallet asked. He was the youngest officer in the room, and appeared to be the least upset. As media liaison, he would be in charge of revealing the details of this disaster to the public. Kellie guessed he was already formulating the words to another of his over-the-top press releases. The boy thrived on chaos. “Does any other country or organization have the ability to transmit messages into space?”
Masco turned toward Colonel Goodson. “Well? You’re the communications guru. Answer him.”
“Sure, Pallet,” Colonel Goodson said. “Anyone could transmit messages. I mean, I could do it from my own backyard, if I’d started transmitting twenty-one years ago. But to send messages quickly over that great a distance requires a Solargate, and very few countries have access to Solargate technology. Those that do have access wouldn’t waste their time. Not that it’d matter if they tried. When we designed the Gen IV’s communication system, security was one of our primary concerns. Unless the children altered the programming, the shuttle’s AI can only accept US military encrypted transmissions.”
“You guys are great,” Masco said. “There’s a girl in space pretending to be God’s Daughter, and you can’t even tell me how she learned the word ’God.’ Is that what–”
“Why do you assume she’s pretending?” Kellie asked.
“Don’t interrupt me again, Ms. Flint. I’m a general, remember?”
Kellie smiled. “I’m not here because of my expertise on military etiquette, Masco. I’m here because of my expertise on the human mind.”
“No, you’re here because of your father.”
Kellie ignored the barb and continued. “I want you to consider the idea that Addison might actually believe she’s God’s Daughter. Forget about understanding how this happened. Assume that it did happen, and that Addison is changed in some fundamental way from the person she used to be." "And this change occurred naturally?” Masco asked. “Come on, Ms. Flint. I’m sure Mr. Stead’s expecting a religion of some kind to form, but not at such a young age. One of his purposes, as many dissertation papers have speculated, is to see how long it takes religion to blossom." "Maybe now we have the answer,” Kellie said. “Seven years.”
“Then where’d Addison get the word ’God?’ That’s an English word.”
“Addison speaks very fluent English.”
“But why ’God?’ Why not ’Robby’ or ’Bubblegum’ or ’Fee-fi-foe?’”
The men snickered as Kellie rolled her eyes. “Look, there’s a lot we don’t understand about religion and the human mind. Maybe Addison really did have a spiritual awakening, or maybe she remembers hearing the word ’God’ while she was still in her mother’s womb. The point is, we don’t know.”
“What do we know, Ms. Flint?” Witherman asked. His question, Kellie guessed, was an attempt to halt Masco’s verbal attack against her. She had helped Witherman keep his job, and he was trying to even the score.
“Now that’s a different question altogether,” she said. “We know that the religion Addison discovered is based in part on an Earth religion, because she plans to hold prayer services every seventh day.
“We also know that Addison has, in effect, taken control of the shuttle. We know this because she refers to the other children as her disciples. This could be bad – coercion, punishment – but for now, we must assume that everyone’s a willing participant.
“Finally, we know Addison’s a child. Regardless of what she believes about being God’s Daughter, her body, maturity level, and emotional development will still be those of a seven-year-old girl.”
“Very good,” Masco said. “Now that we’ve hammered this religion thing to death, let’s discuss Addison’s proposed return to Earth.”
“It can’t happen,” Pallet said. “If the Gen IV returns, it’ll go down as the biggest United States blunder of all time.”
“It’ll mean the end of civilian-funded space projects,” Engineer Toloy said. “And with the economic turmoil this country’s faced for the last fifteen years, the government will never generate enough tax money to launch another shuttle. The space program will be finished.”
“Not to mention the bad publicity we’ll get when Mr. Stead sues the government and wins all his money back,” Pallet said. “You can be sure our six-person committee will be the scapegoat. When the press gets done with us, we’ll be pariahs in our own country.”
Masco grunted. “Anything else? How about you, Ms. Flint? You got anything else to add?”
Rather than comment on the sarcasm in his voice, Kellie decided to take his question seriously.
“I agree with Pallet and Toloy,” she said, “but I don’t think they hit upon the most dangerous aspect of the shuttle’s return. Think about it. After twenty-two years in space, a fourteen-year-old girl steps off the shuttle with eleven other adolescents in line behind her. The girl approaches the nearest microphone and announces to all the world that she’s the Daughter of God. Regardless of what the truth is, if she’s got poise and charisma and an authoritative voice – and this girl does, we all know she does – people will believe her. Not everyone, but enough. Enough to give birth to new religions while weakening or ending others. And religious upheaval rarely occurs peacefully. No, I don’t think anything good can come of this at all." "For once, I agree with you,” Masco said. “Toloy, have your engineers run some scenarios on the probability projectors to test Ms. Flint’s hypothesis. But be careful. Make sure they understand that this situation is not to be discussed outside of this building.” Masco turned toward Major Pallet. “That clear, Major? No media.”
“Sir, yes sir,” Pallet said. But the boy, Kellie saw, was struggling to suppress his disappointment.
“Okay,” Masco said. “We don’t want the Daughter of God and her happy little disciples to return, so we’ve got to stop them. Options, Colonel Goodson?" "Best strategy involves talking them out of it,” Goodson said. “Right now they’re in their maintenance cycle, circling planet H-14R. That means that if we can convince them not to return to Earth, all they’d have to do is stay on course and continue on to Unity. The main problem is communication. While they’re in their maintenance cycle, the only way to talk to them is through short-burst Solargate, the same way Addison sent her message to us. But short-burst is going to seem awfully one-sided. They may not respond. Even if they do, the delay between responses will be days, and by then they’ll be on their way home. Therefore, I suggest we hold off on attempts at communication until after the Gen IV’s finished with its maintenance. At that point, we can establish a direct Solargate link and talk to the children in real-time. We’ll only have a small window of opportunity to make our opinion known before they complete their final half-orbit of the planet, so we’ll have to reason with them fast. Once they head for Earth, they can’t stop till they’re in our backyard.”
“Reason with them?” Kellie asked. “They’re children, remember? Despite their claims of religious awakening, we don’t know how they’ll react to a real-time conversation. They may not listen. Or they may pout and cry and throw a fit. How can we possibly convince seven-year-olds over the phone that what they want to do is wrong?”
Masco laughed. “Oh, this is great. We got one chance to save the world from a potentially devastating disaster, and our psychologist doesn’t want to do it. All right, Ms. Flint. What do you propose we do instead?”
“What I thought we should’ve done years ago,” Kellie said. “Wake my father.”
Steve Flint was not a cowardly man. But when the hibernation capsule opened, and when he looked up to find eleven cherub faces staring down at him, he almost screamed.
Then his hibernation training kicked in, and he smiled.
“Hello, young ones. Care to give me a hand? It’s a little awkward climbing out of these things. Kind of like trying to escape a fishbowl that has no water.”
The children looked to their left, toward a girl who stood alone. She nodded. “Peter, please help Stephen Flint out of the capsule. James, assist him." Two boys leaned forward and offered Steve their hands. Though groggy from hibernation, Steve had regained enough of his wits to sense something wasn’t right. He had studied the list of infants before boarding the Gen IV, and Peter and James were not names he remembered. More disturbing, why would a couple of prepubescent boys take orders from a girl?
After the boys had helped him out of the capsule, Steve knelt and looked one of them in the eyes.
“Thanks for the help, young man. How old are you? Six?”
“Seven, sir.”
“Ah,” Steve said. “Seven years in hibernation. Seems like I just said goodbye to my daughter Kellie a few minutes ago. Feels good to breathe oxygen again. Vexinide hibernation gas really clogs your passages.”
The two boys smiled at his comment, then backed away to stand with the other children. So very odd, they all seemed. So solemn, so withdrawn. Not unhappy, but not childishly exuberant either. And their faces. Their faces looked so...what? Wise? Was that the right word?
“Stephen?” asked the girl who had spoken earlier.
“Yes?”
“Do you accept the Lord as your Savior, and do you believe that your sins will be forgiven, so help you God?”
“Where’d you learn the word ’God?’”
“God is my Father,” the girl said, “and I am his Daughter, born pure out of the love and power and compassion that he feels for all of us.”
“Ah, now I know why I was awakened.” Obvious, of course. The plan to keep religion off the shuttle had been compromised. A religious fanatic or someone else with a private agenda must have smuggled a Bible on board, and now the children had established a social hierarchy based on biblical roles. The girl was obviously the leader, while the others were her disciples. Steve imagined Earth had been irate to learn of such a tightly controlled pecking order. Especially since Toloy’s team of engineers had designed the shuttle’s AI computers to foster equality among the children.
“What’s your name?” Steve asked. “Penelope, Addison, Jennifer...”
The girl smiled and touched him lightly on the arm. “I am Dawn, Daughter of God, Sister of Jesus. And though you doubt my heritage, I still love you, as I love all of God’s people. But please. Your uncertainties can wait. Despite the nutrients in the Vexinide hibernation gas, your hunger and thirst must be great. We’ll have a feast to celebrate your awakening, and to celebrate the glory of God and the glory of God’s gifts to mankind." "Amen,” the children said.
Steve followed the group out of the hibernation quarters and into the shuttle’s central eatery. As he entered the room, he noticed a telephone-style Solargate communicator hanging against the wall. He picked it up and switched the connection to direct link. Nothing happened.
“Something wrong with the Solargate?” he asked. “I’d like to let Earth know I’m awake.”
“You’ll have to send a short-burst message,” Dawn said. “We’re in our maintenance cycle, and won’t be able to communicate directly with Earth till it’s complete.”
Steve switched the Solargate to short-burst, then sent a message to Earth to let them know that yes, he was one of the handful of people whose DNA allowed extended periods of hibernation. He promised to talk to them directly as soon as it was possible to do so, then hung up.
The children had gathered around a large table in the center of the eatery. An extra chair had been added, and Steve went to stand behind it.
“Let us pray,” Dawn said.
The girls standing on Steve’s left and right reached out to hold his hands. An unbroken circle formed around the table.
“Ruth, will you give voice to the prayer?” Dawn asked.
“Dear God,” one of the girls said, “thank you for bringing Stephen Flint safely out of hibernation. Please help him grasp how wonderful the universe is, and teach him to appreciate the gift of life. Give him the patience to understand us, as well as the insight to believe. In God’s name we pray. Amen." "Amen,” Dawn said.
And so began the strangest dinner Steve had ever attended. Twelve seven-year-olds sitting together at a table with only one adult, and yet none of the boys and girls played with their food or started a fight or misbehaved in any way. Part of their good behavior, he knew, could be attributed to the parenting skills of the shuttle’s AI. But as he watched the children interact, he noticed a level of camaraderie and respect that no AI on Earth, even the modules designed by Toloy, had ever come close to duplicating.
As he ate, Steve tried to get Dawn to speak of religion. He asked her several questions about her spirituality, but each time, she gracefully deflected their conversation into a discussion about the last few years of the voyage. After her fifth such evasion, he gave up and focused his attention on filling his ravenous stomach.
Once everyone had finished eating, however, Dawn clapped her hands twice and the room fell silent.
“Stephen has some questions about religion,” she said. “Please give the two of us some time alone, so that I may ease his mind." The children nodded, then stood and left the room in single file.
Dawn smiled. “They’re good children, and I love them all. But I felt we might have an easier time talking if we were alone. Now please. Tell me your heart. Let me know your questions, so that I may give you answers and set your mind at ease.”
The poise and intellect of the girl continued to catch Steve off guard. “Do you really think you’re God’s Daughter?" "Doubt comes easy to you, doesn’t it?”
“Well, it’s easier to doubt your claim than to believe it. You’re seven years old. Children like to play games. How do I know you’re not pretending?" Dawn looked puzzled. “Why would I pretend?”
“Perhaps you got tired of the AI controlling your life,” Steve said. “Being coddled by a computer isn’t exactly an ideal childhood. So maybe you rebelled. By declaring yourself God’s Daughter, you’re able to claim a higher position of authority than a computer could ever hold.”
“That’s a good theory,” Dawn said, “but it’s not true. The AI teaches and nurtures and disciplines us. It doesn’t control us. And we’re not bothered by it. In fact, we’re old enough now to be thankful for it. Without its help, we could never have learned how to turn the shuttle back toward Earth.”
Steve frowned. “The shuttle’s headed back to Earth?”
“Not yet,” Dawn said. “But it will be once we complete our maintenance cycle and break orbit from planet H-14R. We told Earth about our decision a couple days ago. I’m sure that’s why they woke you up.”
Steve took a deep breath. He now understood the depth of the problem he faced. Dawn hadn’t only become the Daughter of God. She had also become the pilot of this shuttle.
“You can’t go back,” he said.
“Of course we can,” Dawn said. “Sure, the easy route would be to land on Unity and start a fresh colony on a brand new planet. But what about our old planet? Rather than start fresh, why not fix what’s wrong on Earth instead? We can do it. With love, patience, and God’s guidance, my disciples and I can repair everything.”
“How can you be so sure of yourself?”
Dawn touched her chest. “Because I know in my heart that returning to Earth is what God wants me to do." "But that answer assumes you really are the Daughter of God,” Steve said. “How can you be certain of that? What’s your real name, anyway?" "My old name, before I realized my true identity, was Addison Horowitz.”
“I know your parents,” Steve said. “I met them the day before the Gen IV left Earth. They seemed like nice people, but they definitely weren’t gods." "You’re right,” Dawn said. “Isaac and Debora Horowitz are not gods. But the identity of my birth parents is separate from the identity of my true spiritual father. How I entered the world is irrelevant.”
Steve shook his head. She was only seven, yet she was already a skilled theologist. “We could debate the differences between the spiritual and biological aspects of birth forever, and neither of us would gain any ground. Forget about your old name. How’d you learn your true name was Dawn? And what about James and Ruth and the rest of the children? How’d they learn their true names?”
“The name Dawn signifies a clean and pure beginning. I chose it for that reason. As for the others, they chose names that they associated with religion." "Ah, but see, that’s a problem,” Steve said. “Those names shouldn’t have meant anything, because religion was forbidden aboard this shuttle. But somehow, without any religious data whatsoever, the twelve of you learned more about religion than many people know on Earth. How’d that happen?”
Dawn shrugged. “I’m not sure, really. The information became known to us over the last week or so.”
“Over the last week? You’ve got to be kidding.”
“Nope.” Dawn giggled. “Truth is, two weeks ago, James and I were the biggest troublemakers aboard this shuttle. But something happened to me over the last week. My...awareness grew. I started understanding concepts of time and space that the shuttle’s AI hadn’t taught me.”
“Time and space? Scientific aspects, you mean?”
“No, not exactly. More like"–she smiled–"universal truths. Yes, that’s it. Universal truths that are so different from what we currently know, they must be accepted as spiritual in nature, not scientific.”
“Spiritual for now,” Steve said. “But most spiritual revelations only last as long as it takes for science to catch up with them. Think about the camera. If we showed a camera to our distant ancestors, they’d probably think we were gods. But if we explained the principles that make the camera work, its magic would be demystified. Don’t you think your universal truths will suffer the same fate?”
Dawn waved a hand through the air. “Oh, I don’t see how that could happen. My revelations are unexplainable. Only the results – the inner peace, the love – are available to me to give. I’ll give those freely of course, but how can I teach spirituality?”
“People teach spirituality all the time,” Steve said. “Entire college curriculums revolve around studying different forms of religion.”
“But the instructors who teach those curriculums don’t have concrete evidence to support what they say.”
“Neither do you,” Steve said.
“Exactly. So I can’t possibly teach the science of what I know, can I?”
Steve laughed. He was starting to like this girl. “What do you hope to accomplish by returning to Earth?”
“What did Jesus accomplish?” Dawn asked. “He lived for only a short period of time, yet the positive effect he had on the world changed the course of history. Even his crucifixion taught people lessons about love and spirituality.”
“Do you think you’ll be crucified?”
“I have to accept that such an event is a possibility.” Dawn frowned. “It’d be sad though, wouldn’t it? Over two thousand years since Jesus was crucified, and we haven’t learned a thing.”
Steve rubbed his chin. “You’re an amazing girl. A seven-year-old who can hypothesize her own death.”
“You’re starting to question your initial doubt in me, aren’t you? You’re starting to believe I might really be the Daughter of God.”
“Can you read my mind?” Steve asked.
“No. Well, maybe I could. But I don’t want to.”
Steve shivered. Was he really starting to believe her? They were light years from Earth, and he had been inside the hibernation capsule for a long time, so maybe he was going mad.
But he didn’t think insanity was the problem.
“What’s the first thing you want to do on Earth?” he asked.
Dawn closed her eyes and smiled. “I want to meet with all the religious leaders of the world. Convincing them of the truth of my words will be the toughest part of my return.”
“But the people you’ll meet as you exit the shuttle will be military personnel. What if they consider you a resource to exploit, and place you under military arrest? Or what if they see you as a threat to society, and kill you to keep you quiet?”
“I hope that doesn’t happen,” Dawn said, “but I won’t stop them. One way or another, my message will get out. People will know that the Daughter of God was born. They’ll know that she was killed, and that she only wanted peace.”
“But don’t you see what could happen?” Steve asked. “Your presence could spark wars like Earth has never seen. And with the biological, chemical, and nuclear weaponry now available to most industrialized nations, it could be a war that would make Earth uninhabitable.”
Dawn shook her head. “No, that’ll never happen. A war might decimate 99% of the population, or even 99.9999%. But someone would survive, and humanity would continue. God isn’t ready to give up on Earth just yet.”
“You think there might be a time when he is ready to give up?”
“Never. The people of Earth are his children. Not as directly as I am, perhaps, but still, they’re his children. He loves everyone, and will never forsake them.”
“So what happens after you meet with the religious leaders?” Steve asked. “What do you think is possible?”
“At that point,” Dawn said, “everything is possible. I see a world where people work together to help one another achieve common goals. Love, fellowship, and spiritual harmony will surround and unite us all. And once united, we’ll accelerate our exploration of the universe. We’ll visit God’s many other planets, and colonize them one by one. Eventually, God’s dream of a magnificent cosmos filled with loving and caring and spiritually-realized people will become a reality. But it all starts with my return.”
Steve considered her vision. Could it work? And did it really hurt anything for him to hope that maybe it could? That maybe Earth and its inhabitants could be turned away from the self-inflicted destruction they seemed determined to achieve?
“You’ve got a decision to make,” Dawn said.
“What makes you say that?”
“The way you’ve been questioning me. Earth woke you in response to the message I sent them. They want to understand what I’m doing. Maybe you even have orders to commandeer this shuttle. I don’t know. The point is, whatever you choose to do will affect the way I’m able to deal with Earth, for now and in the future.”
“Yes, well, you’re right, of course. I’m questioning you so I can understand you. But even I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. Think of me as an emergency lever. Something unexpected happened on this shuttle, so the people of Earth pulled the emergency lever and here I am. But I don’t know any more than that. And now I’ve got to decide what it is they want me to do.”
“You’ve got to decide what they want you to do? When you put it like that, it’s not really a decision at all, is it?”
"It’s a responsibility,” Steve said. “The decision I make regarding this shuttle’s destination will affect the entire population of Earth. I’ve got to do what’s most beneficial for everyone.”
“I see.” Dawn looked pensive. “Well, I think you should make your decision based on what you feel, not on what people who haven’t met me want you to feel. I don’t fear your judgement. If you believe we should continue on to Unity, I won’t stop you from taking control of this shuttle. But if you’ve listened to me, and if you’ve understood the message I’ve tried to convey, then you’ll allow me to do what I need to do.”
“How much longer till the shuttle heads for Earth?” Steve asked.
“We’ve got two hours left in our maintenance cycle. Then we’ve got another three hours before we break orbit from planet H-14R.”
“So I’ve got five hours to decide what to do.”
“Yes. I’ll leave you alone now so you can consider your options in peace. But don’t feel you must carry this burden by yourself. God’s watching you. If you let him, he’ll help you make your decision.”
Dawn stood, leaned forward, and kissed Steve on the forehead. Then she headed out of the room.
“Wait!” Steve said.
Dawn turned around.
“When I talk to Earth, how do I explain you?”
“Call me"–Dawn clapped her hands together and smiled–"a displaced miracle. A miracle that should’ve occurred on Earth. It’s just bad luck that one of the twelve children they shuttled off the planet turned out to be the Daughter of God. But now it’s time for the miracle of my birth to be known. I’m ready to go home.”
“Ah,” Steve said.
He watched as she walked out the door.
“Ah,” he said again.
“She what?” Kellie asked.
Steve jerked away from the Solargate, his ear ringing from the volume of his daughter’s voice. “Dawn convinced me that in the long run, returning to Earth would actually be a good thing. Of course, short term, her return will cause incredible hardship and pain. But that’s always the case when people are forced to undergo a major paradigm shift. The girl is amazing, Kel. If she isn’t God’s Daughter, I don’t know how else to explain her.”
“It won’t work,” Kellie said. “There’s too many different religions down here. Too many groups of people who don’t want to hear that a seven-year-old girl raised by a computer in outer space is the Daughter of God.”
“But when they hear her speak–”
“Dad, they won’t listen. They’ll kill her, and then the people who believed in her will go to war with the people who didn’t, and the entire planet will be torn apart.”
“No,” Steve said. “I no longer believe that’ll happen. There’ll be problems, sure. But the world won’t be torn apart.”
“We ran it on the probability projectors! It’ll happen! Earth will be torn apart! How can you not think logically? The main reason you’re on that shuttle is because of your ability to think logically.”
“You’re wrong, dear,” Steve said. “The AI handles the logic. The main reason I’m here is to alleviate any abstract human problems that arise during the trip. And I did my job. A problem arose, I studied it, and I discovered it isn’t a problem after all. It’s a solution.”
“"What do you mean you did your job?” Kellie asked. “Where are you? Where’s the shuttle?”
“We’re headed home, Kel. We’re headed for Earth.”
“Tell me you haven’t committed to returning.”
“Why yes, dear, we completed our maintenance cycle ahead of schedule, and now we’re headed back to Earth. You should see our new course reflected on your charts in another hour or so. Just think, Kel. I’ll be back home in seven short years – well, eleven years to you and everyone else on Earth. Isn’t this exciting?”
The only response he heard was silence.
“Kellie?” Steve asked.
“Dad,” Kellie said softly, “I love you. I want you to know that.”
"But dear, I’ve always known it.”
"Yes, but, well, I just wanted to say it. Wanted you to hear it. Wanted me to hear it.”
"I love you too, Kel. And believe me, despite your doubts, you’ll love the Daughter of God just as much as I do.”
"Dad, I’ve got to go.”
"Okay, dear. I’ll talk to Dawn and prepare a more detailed report for my next transmission. That girl’s got so many fabulous ideas about the future. Wonderful, magnificent ways to make Earth a better place. It’s going to be amazing.”
"That’s great. Bye, Dad.”
"Bye, Kel.”
Steve clicked off the Solargate, then turned and headed deeper into the ship in search of Dawn.
“You know we have to do this,” Masco said. “Once they committed to returning to Earth, all other options became irrelevant.”
Kellie said nothing. She stared at the Solargate and wished her father’s words had been different.
“And it’ll save lives,” Masco said. “Millions and millions of lives. You saw the projections. I know you believe that.”
“I don’t have any say in this, do I?” Kellie asked.
“You’re our project psychologist. Of course you have a say.”
“No, you can tell me that a hundred times, but you know as well as I do that your minds are already made up.”
No one at the table said a word.
“But I want all of you to consider something. My father is one of the most levelheaded people you could have sent on that shuttle. All of you know him, and I know all of you agree.”
Kellie stood and glared at each of the men. “And because you know him, you know he isn’t easily swayed. But somehow, in only a few hours time, he’s been convinced that he travels in a shuttle with the Daughter of God. Did you hear me? The Daughter of God. And he believes that if they return to Earth, they can make things work. They can fix this planet and make it a wonderful place to live. So maybe we don’t know everything. Maybe if they did return, the projections would be wrong, and this one little girl would fix every problem that this world suffers from.”
Kellie banged a fist down on the table. “But we’ll never know, will we? My father saw something we couldn’t, experienced something we can’t, and we’ll never know what it was. That, at least, should give you pause before you act.”
With those words, Kellie turned and stormed out of the conference room.
The four lesser officers frowned at one another, then looked to Masco. Masco nodded glumly, then picked up the phone.
Thirty-eight minutes later, a nuclear bomb nestled inside the Gen IV’s engine exploded, destroying the shuttle and all of its occupants.
End