“As far as we know,” the Eagle said. “At least that’s what is programmed in our systems. None of us here has ever actually seen a Prime Monitor.”
“And is it possible,” Nicole asked, “that the whole story is a myth of some kind, created by an intelligence above you in the hierarchy, as the official explanation to give out to human beings?”
The Eagle hesitated. “That possibility exists. I would have no way of knowing.”
“Would you know if something different, some other explanation, had ever been programmed in your systems before?”
“Not necessarily,” the Eagle said. “I am solely responsible for what is retained in my memory.”
Nicole’s behavior remained unusual. She interrupted her protracted periods of silence with bursts of apparently unrelated questions. At one point she asked why some Nodes had four modules and others three. The Eagle explained that the Knowledge Module created a tetrahedron out of the Nodal triangle in about every tenth or twelfth Node. Nicole wanted to know what was so special about the Knowledge Module. The Eagle told her that it was the repository of all the acquired information about this part of the galaxy.
“It’s part library and part museum, containing a colossal amount of information in a variety of forms,” he said.
“Have you ever been inside this Knowledge Module?” Nicole asked.
“No,” the Eagle answered, “but my current systems contain a complete description of it.”
“Can J go there?” Nicole said.
“A living being must have special permission to enter the Knowledge Module,” the Eagle said.
When Nicole spoke again, she asked about what was going to happen to the humans who would be transferred to the Node in another day or two. The Eagle explained patiently, in response to one short question after another, that the people would live in the Habitation Module in a test environment with several other species, that they would be closely monitored, and that Simone, Michael, and their family might or might not be integrated with the humans who were moving to the Node.
Nicole made her decision several minutes before they reached the starfish. “I want to stay here only for tonight,” she said slowly. “So that I can say good-bye to everybody.”
The Eagle looked at her with a curious expression. “Then tomorrow,” Nicole continued, “if you can obtain permission, I want you to take me to the Knowledge Module… Once I leave the starfish, I want all medication suspended. And I want no heroic efforts if my heart goes into distress.”
Nicole looked straight ahead, through the front of her space helmet and out the window of the shuttle. It is definitely the right time, she said to herself. If only I have the courage not to waver…”
“Yes, Mother,” Ellie said, wiping her tears again. “I do understand, I really do. But I’m your daughter. I love you. No matter how much logical sense it might make to you, there’s just no way I can be happy about never seeing you again,”
“So what am I supposed to do?” Nicole said. “Let them change me into some kind of bionic woman so I can hang around forever? And be the grande dame of the community, sententious and puffed up with self-importance? That is certainly not very appealing to me.”
“But everyone admires you, Mother,” Ellie said. “Your family here loves you, and you could spend years getting to know all of Simone and Michael’s family. You would never be a problem to any of us.”
“That’s not really the issue,” Nicole said. She turned her wheelchair around and faced one of the bare walls. “The universe is in constant renewal,” she said, as much to herself as to Ellie. “Everything-individuals, planets, stars, even galaxies-has a life cycle, a death as well as a birth. Nothing lasts forever. Not even me universe itself. Change and renewal are an essential part of the overall process. The octospiders know this well. That’s why planned terminations are an integral part of their overall replenishment concept.”
“But Mother,” Ellie said from behind her, “unless there is a war, the octospiders only put individuals on the termination list who are no longer making enough of a contribution to their society to justify the resources being expended. There is no cost to us for keeping you alive. And your wisdom and experience are still valuable.”
Nicole turned around and smiled. “You are a very bright woman, Ellie,” she said. “And I will acknowledge that there is truth in what you are saying. But you are conveniently ignoring the two key elements in my decision, both of which I have already explained at great length… For reasons neither you nor anybody else may be able to understand, it is important to me that I be able to choose my own time of death. I want to make that decision before I am either a burden or out of the mainstream of activity, and while I still have the respect of my family and friends. Second, it is my feeling that I do not have any defined niche in the post-transfer world. Therefore I cannot justify, in my own mind, the massive physiological intervention that will be necessary before I can function without being a problem for others. From so many different points of view, now seems to be an excellent time for me to make my exit.”
“As I told you at the very beginning,” Ellie said, “your cold, rational analysis, whether correct or not, should not be the only consideration. What about the feeling of loss that Benjy, Nikki, I, and the others will experience? And our sorrow will be increased by the knowledge that your death at this time could have been avoided.”
“Ellie,” Nicole said, “one of the reasons I came back to say good-bye to you and the others was to try to assuage any feeling of loss that you might have after my death. Again, look at the octospiders. They do not grieve.”
“Mother,” Ellie interrupted, fighting the return of the tears, “we are not octospiders, we are human beings. We grieve. We feel desolate when someone we love dies. We know, in our minds, that death is inevitable and that it is all part of the universal scheme, but nevertheless we weep and feel an acute sense of loss.”
Ellie paused for a moment. “Have you forgotten how you felt when Richard and Katie died? You were devastated.”
Nicole swallowed slowly and looked at her daughter. I knew this would not be easy, she thought. Maybe I shouldn’t have come back. Maybe it really would have been better if I had asked the Eagle to tell everyone I had died of a heart attack.
“I know you were upset,” Ellie said softly, “to find out that an alien robot had replaced you in Michael and Simone’s family. But you shouldn’t overreact. Sooner or later all of their children and grandchildren will learn that there can be no substitute for the real Nicole des Jardins Wakefield.”
Nicole sighed. She felt she was losing the battle. “I did acknowledge to you, Ellie, that I felt there was no place for me in Michael and Simone’s family. But it is unfair for you to imply that my reaction to the other Nicole is the sole, or even the main reason for my decision.”
Nicole was becoming exhausted. She had planned to talk first to Ellie, then to Benjy, and finally to the rest of the group before she went to sleep. Ellie had been much more difficult than she had expected. But were you being realistic? Nicole asked herself. Did you really think Ellie would say, “Great, Mother, it makes sense. I’m sorry to see you go, but I understand completely”?
There was a knock on the door of the apartment. The Eagle looked at the two women after the door was opened. “Am I intruding?” the alien asked.
Nicole smiled. “I think we are ready for a short break,” she said.
Ellie excused herself to go to the bathroom and the Eagle walked over to Nicole. “How’s it going?” he said, bending down to the level of the wheelchair.
“Not so well,” Nicole answered.
“I thought I’d drop by,” the Eagle said, “to tell you mat your request to visit the Knowledge Module has been approved. Assuming the basic situation you described to me in the shuttle is still valid.”
Nicole brightened. “Good, “ she said. “Now if I can just summon the courage to finish what I have started.”
The Eagle patted her on the back. “You can do it,” he said. “You are the most extraordinary human we have ever encountered.”
Benjy’s head was resting on her chest. Nicole was on her back with her arm wrapped around her son. So this may be the last night of my life, she thought as she drifted toward sleep. A small tremor of fear rushed through her and she forced it aside. I am not afraid of death, Nicole said to herself, not after what I have already experienced.
The visit from the Eagle had refortified her. When her conversation with Ellie had resumed, Nicole admitted that there was merit in all of Ellie’s points and that she didn’t mean to cause distress for her friends and family, but that she was determined to proceed with her decision. Nicole had then pointed out to Ellie that Benjy and she, and
