had obviously gone to great trouble but the thought of a stranger poring over images of her brain was a little . . . creepy.
- Anyway, I’ve been studying the scans for a while now and I’ve been able to construct this, he indicated the Interface. It’s your own personalised model.
Terra approached the work surface and looked at the machine. It was sleeker and newer-looking than the one in the Lyceum, with a smaller crystal dome (to fit her smaller head, she supposed).
- Can we afford this? she asked Lbbp. Lbbp smiled.
- It’s taken care of. The Preceptor said it was the least he could do. After Lbbp had pointed out at length and quite forcibly (by Lbbp’s standards) that, given the humiliation he’d brought upon Terra with the FaZoon debacle, paying for her to have her own Interface was, quite literally, the least the Preceptorate could do.
Terra bent down to look up into the glass dome.
- Want to give it a try? asked Lbbp.
Terra wasn’t sure.
- Just see how it fits, said Gftg.
Nervously, Terra inserted her head into the dome. She smiled.
- It has spaces for my ears, she said.
- It has spaces for your ears, smiled Lbbp.
- I’m just going to run a start-up programme, said Gftg. It’s not going to transmit any information, it’s just going to try to sync to your brain.
Terra heard the sound of Gftg tapping instructions into the machine, then the three blips of the countdown.
She felt a warm sensation. Nothing unpleasant.
It was as if a distant voice were calling to her. Faint, indistinct. She strained to hear it.
It seemed that the voice was that of someone who knew her. Knew her, but wanted to know her better.
The voice was louder now. It called her name.
- Terra?
Louder still.
- Terra, can you hear me?
Completely clear and close now.
- Terra, are you all right?
The voice was Lbbp’s. But it hadn’t been.
- I’m fine, said Terra. I think . . .
- Yes? said Gftg eagerly.
- It’s like it’s trying to find me, but it can’t.
Gftg looked momentarily crestfallen, but shook off the disappointment. - That’s good! he said brightly. It’s finding its way through your conscious pathways and trying to reach the memory centres. It’ll take a few sessions to sync up properly but this is a good start.
Anything beats being blown across the room with your hair on fire, thought Terra, but decided not to bring that up just now.
2.14
F or the next few evenings, when Terra got back from the Lyceum, Gftg and Lbbp would be waiting and they would try again. Gftg’s presence wasn’t strictly necessary; he’d shown Lbbp everything he needed to know in order to operate the Interface, but he came anyway. He was still slightly overawed to be in the presence of the Ymn child. From conversations Lbbp had with Gftg, he got the impression that Terra had quite a few ‘fans’ in Hrrng’s scientific community.
- My friends at the Directorate are so jealous, said Gftg on one occasion.
- Really? asked Lbbp, sounding slightly more interested than he actually was.
- Well, yes. They can’t believe I’m getting to work with a real live alien.
- I’m right here, you know, said Terra from inside the dome.
- Sorry, said Gftg as the Interface powered down. He lifted the dome from Terra’s head. Any clearer this time?
- I think so, said Terra. Ask me something.
- Okay, said Gftg nervously. He read from his slate.
- What’s the correct bombardment frequency for the activation of grav-matter?
- Four point two one three seven five six nanoblips divided by x where x is the gravitational constant of the planet.
- Which species can only reproduce extra-atmospherically?
- Species five five seven two, or sgth-k-shffs. They spawn in deep space and the spores drift until they find a host planet.
- Which star expanded to red category twelve on the seventy-third day of orbit forty-five, thirty-second era?
Terra paused.
- Do you need me to repeat the question? asked Gftg.
- No, said Terra. She’d heard the
- Anyway, I’ve been studying the scans for a while now and I’ve been able to construct this, he indicated the Interface. It’s your own personalised model.
Terra approached the work surface and looked at the machine. It was sleeker and newer-looking than the one in the Lyceum, with a smaller crystal dome (to fit her smaller head, she supposed).
- Can we afford this? she asked Lbbp. Lbbp smiled.
- It’s taken care of. The Preceptor said it was the least he could do. After Lbbp had pointed out at length and quite forcibly (by Lbbp’s standards) that, given the humiliation he’d brought upon Terra with the FaZoon debacle, paying for her to have her own Interface was, quite literally, the least the Preceptorate could do.
Terra bent down to look up into the glass dome.
- Want to give it a try? asked Lbbp.
Terra wasn’t sure.
- Just see how it fits, said Gftg.
Nervously, Terra inserted her head into the dome. She smiled.
- It has spaces for my ears, she said.
- It has spaces for your ears, smiled Lbbp.
- I’m just going to run a start-up programme, said Gftg. It’s not going to transmit any information, it’s just going to try to sync to your brain.
Terra heard the sound of Gftg tapping instructions into the machine, then the three blips of the countdown.
She felt a warm sensation. Nothing unpleasant.
It was as if a distant voice were calling to her. Faint, indistinct. She strained to hear it.
It seemed that the voice was that of someone who knew her. Knew her, but wanted to know her better.
The voice was louder now. It called her name.
- Terra?
Louder still.
- Terra, can you hear me?
Completely clear and close now.
- Terra, are you all right?
The voice was Lbbp’s. But it hadn’t been.
- I’m fine, said Terra. I think . . .
- Yes? said Gftg eagerly.
- It’s like it’s trying to find me, but it can’t.
Gftg looked momentarily crestfallen, but shook off the disappointment. - That’s good! he said brightly. It’s finding its way through your conscious pathways and trying to reach the memory centres. It’ll take a few sessions to sync up properly but this is a good start.
Anything beats being blown across the room with your hair on fire, thought Terra, but decided not to bring that up just now.
2.14
F or the next few evenings, when Terra got back from the Lyceum, Gftg and Lbbp would be waiting and they would try again. Gftg’s presence wasn’t strictly necessary; he’d shown Lbbp everything he needed to know in order to operate the Interface, but he came anyway. He was still slightly overawed to be in the presence of the Ymn child. From conversations Lbbp had with Gftg, he got the impression that Terra had quite a few ‘fans’ in Hrrng’s scientific community.
- My friends at the Directorate are so jealous, said Gftg on one occasion.
- Really? asked Lbbp, sounding slightly more interested than he actually was.
- Well, yes. They can’t believe I’m getting to work with a real live alien.
- I’m right here, you know, said Terra from inside the dome.
- Sorry, said Gftg as the Interface powered down. He lifted the dome from Terra’s head. Any clearer this time?
- I think so, said Terra. Ask me something.
- Okay, said Gftg nervously. He read from his slate.
- What’s the correct bombardment frequency for the activation of grav-matter?
- Four point two one three seven five six nanoblips divided by x where x is the gravitational constant of the planet.
- Which species can only reproduce extra-atmospherically?
- Species five five seven two, or sgth-k-shffs. They spawn in deep space and the spores drift until they find a host planet.
- Which star expanded to red category twelve on the seventy-third day of orbit forty-five, thirty-second era?
Terra paused.
- Do you need me to repeat the question? asked Gftg.
- No, said Terra. She’d heard the
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