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AckermanandFriends,andhefurnishedmewithatitle, Laugh,Clone,Laugh. ForForryIdid
muchthe sameasIdidfory ou--I wroteportionshereandthere.What makesit
particularly relevant hereisthatwhen youcalled me,I askedyoutodo formee
xactlywhatForryhaddone:fu rnishmewithati tle. As anaside,FredandJud yo
fGalaxyseve ralt imesshowedme,o rsen tme,coveril
lustrationsandaskedmeifIcouldworku p a storyaround them.I
nevercould.Soevidentlywo rdstriggerme ,notp ictures.
Foryou, also,as youmayrecall,I wrotesectionshereandthere, includinga
beginning,andas olutionin thecontrolr oom.LikeForry,y ouevidentlysatd
own,andworkedtheideasandsomeofthe sentencesinto your own muchsimplerwayofw
riting.Bysimpler,Ia lso meanv ivid, andbeautiful.
I m assumingthat some ofyourothercollaborations turnedoutgreat,b utitis
hardformeto believethat therewillbemanys toriesin thispartnership writingc
ollection that arebetter than The HumanOperators. Youh avemycongratulations,s
ir.Youareacraftsman.
Onemorethought:IimaginetherewasatimeinmyownwritingwhenIcouldhavecomeforward
withthefeelingoftheshipslov ing
itoutthereinspaceontheirown.Butthiswasnotinanyofthe segmentsIse nty
ou,andisanoutstanding original additiont o theinitial idea.
Withbestwishes.
TheHumanOperators
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ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Sincerely, Van
[To be read whilelistening toChronophagie,. The Time Eaters : Music of
Jacques Lasry,played onStructures
Sonores Lasry-Baschet(Columbia Masterworks Stereo MS 7314).]
Ship:theonlyplace.
Ships aysI mt o getw rackedtodayat noon. Andso I mingriefa lready.
Itseemsunfairtohavetoge twrackedthreewholed aysahead ofthe
usualonce-a-month.But I
learnedlongagonottoaskShiptoe xplainanythingpersonal.
Ise nsetodayisdifferent;some thingsarehappening.Early,Iputonthespacesuit
andgooutside--wh ichisnotcommon.Butascreengotbadlyscoredbymeteordust ;andI mhe
re,now,rep lacingit.Shipwouldsay I mbeingb adbecause: asId o myjob,Isne
akquick looksaroundme. I wouldn td aredo it in thefo rbiddenplaces,
inside.InoticedwhenIwasstillak idthatShipdoesn tseemtobe somuchaware ofwhatId
owhenI moutside.
AndsoIc arefullysne akafew looksat thedeepbl ackspace.Andatthestars.
IonceaskedShipwhywenevergotowardthosepoints ofbrilliance,those stars,as
Shipcalls them.F or thatquestion,I gota wholee xtrawracking,andal
ong,rantingle ctureabouth owallthose stars
havehumanslivingontheirplanets;an dofhowvicioushumansare.Shipreallyblastedme
thattime,sayingth ingsI dneverheardbefore,l
ikehowShiphadgottenawayfromthevicioushumansduringthebigwar withtheKyben.
Andhow,everyonce inalong whileShi phasa run-in withthevicioushumansbutthe
detractorperimetersavesus.Idon tknowwhatShipmeans byal l that;Idon t even
knowwhata run-in
is,exactly.
Thelast run-in musthavebeenbeforeIwasbigen oughto remember.O r,atleast
,beforeShip k illedmyfathe rwhenIwasf ourteen.Severalt imes,whe nhewasstill
alive, Is lept allda y forn o reasonthatIcanth inkof.ButsinceI vebeendoingal
lthemaintenance work--since ag ef ourteen--Isleeponlymy regularsi x-hour
night.Ship tellsmenight andShiptellsmeday,t oo.
Ikneelhe reinmys pacesuit,feelingt inyonthisgray andcurving metal placein
thedark. Ship isb ig.Overfivehundredfeetlong,andaboutahund redandfiftyfeetth
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ickat thew idest back there.Again, Ihavethats
pecialout-herethought:supposeIjustgivemyselfa shove,andf loatrightoffto
wardone of
thosebrightspotsoflight?WouldIbeabletogeta way?IthinkIwouldlikethat;the
rehastobesomeplace elsethanShip.
Asinthepast,Is lowly andsadly let goof theidea. BecauseifI try, andShip
catchesme,I llreally
getw racked.
Therepairj ob isfinallyd one.I clompb ackto theairlock,andusethespider
todilateit,and let myself besuckedback intowhat is, after
all--I vegottoadmitit--aprettysecureplace.Allth egleaming
corridors,thehugestoreroomswiththeire quipmentandspareparts,andthef
reezerroomsw iththeirstacksof food(e nough,saysSh ip,t o lastone
personforcenturies),an dthedeckafterdeckofmach inery that it s myjo btokeep in
r epair.Icantakeprideinthat. Hurry!Itissixminutes to noon! Shipannounces.I m
hurryingn ow.
Istripoffmys pacesuitandstickittothedecontaminationboardand headf orthew
racking room. Atleast, that swhatIcall it.Isupposeit sreallypa
rtoftheengineroomonUnderdeckTen,as pecial
chamberfittedwithelectricalconnections,mos tofwhicharetesting
instruments.Iusethemprettyregularly inmy work.Myfather sfather sfather
installedthem forShip,Ith inkI recall.
There sabigtable,andIc limbontopofitandliedown.Thetableisc
oldagainsttheskinofmybackand buttand thighs,b utitwarmsmeu p
asIliehere.It snowoneminute tonoon.As Iwait,sh udderingw
ithexpectation,theceilinglowerstowardme.Partofwhatc omesd ownf itsovermy
head,andIfee lth etwohardknobspressingintothetemplesofmys kull.An dcold;Ifee
lth eclampscoming downover my middle, m yw rists,m y ankles.A strapw
ithmetalinittightens flexiblyb utfirmly acrossm ychest.
Ready! Shipcommands. Italwaysseemsbitterly
unfair.HowcanIeverbereadytobewracked?
Ihateit!Shipcounts: Ten...nine& eight& one!
Thefirstjoltofelectricityh itsandeverythingtriestogo ind ifferentd
irections;i t feelslikes omeoneistearingsomethingsoftinsideme--that sthewayit
feels.
Blacknessswirlsintomy headandI forgeteverything.I am unconsciousfora
while.Just beforeI regainm yself,beforeI amf inishedandShipwill permitmeto
goaboutmy duties,I remember a thing Ihav erememberedmanyt imes.Thisisn t
thefirsttime forth is memory.I t isofmyfatherandathinghesaidonce, notlong
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