NUMAMBA'S GAMBLE

   "Det, Stanley's death has made me think a lot about our future here in Canaan. What do you think?"
   "Hmmm. Yes."
   "Dr. Stisreg, put down that book and listen to me. I have to talk to you."
   "What? Oh. I'm sorry, Numamba. I'm reading a great old story from over a thousand years ago, written in the French of that era. Jacques le Fataliste, by a guy named Diderot. Have you ever read it? I think I finally learned how to handle that ancient language. It's about whether or not we have free will, or if everything we do is predetermined for us. OK, the book's down. What's up?"
   "Will you ever stop making puns? Listen, Stanley's assassination has affected me greatly, even now, more than 50 years after the fact."
   "Yes, I know. It's affected me terribly, too. He was like a father to me, like the one I never knew. Did I ever tell you how we met?"
   "Never directly. There were always allusions to some dark secret in the past. Something you never wanted me to know. I've been waiting for hundreds of years to find out something about that part of your life. Your pre-existence, so to speak."
   "OK, time for a confession. He picked me up, literally, from the gutter of a street in Sandstone, on Mesnos. I was a rambunctious teenager, in revolt against society. I had gotten my hands on drugs, had begun stealing to pay for them, and would have slipped into a life of crime except for him. When he came upon me, the scene could not have been appetizing. I was unconscious and beaten, robbed. I was lying in the street, with puffed up lips and black eyes. Blood here and there. He picked me up, took me in, put me through detoxification, got me to be clean and honest. He gave me something to live for, Numamba, dreams to dream, an intoxication not with sardon but with the quest for knowledge. Knowledge and service. He made it possible for me to appreciate you. My life was all about me until he took me out of a nightmare.
   "Then he made sure I got a proper education. He trusted me: no one had done that since my parents had died in a terrible accident and I was left to my own devices, in a strange land, at the age of 15. He made sure I got a good education at a university on Earth, the University of Dar es Salam. That was before he became a fugitive himself, on some trumped-up charges."
   "Trumped up?"
   "OK, not trumped up. He had extended his life and mine illegally. But you know that part of the story."
   "My story is similar, but more roundabout. I've never told you all the facts about it. I entered Stanley's life via that friend of Christina's, Boris Smirnoff. When he bumped into me in a bar on Earth, in Brazzaville, I was in the same state as you were. But I was a girl, and I was suspicious of any man who came near me. I didn't trust him. How could I? You know the terrible life I had led up to then. Poverty. Abandonment. Drugs. Prostitution. I couldn't trust any man, and I couldn't trust any woman either. But I was in no condition to argue with this guy who told me he had a friend on Mars who would help me. Somehow I believed him. Maybe it was the adventure of coming to Mars."
   "Or maybe you had burned out your brain so much that you'd believe anything."
   "Be quiet or I'll bop you one. Boris (or Alexander Romanov, as he called himself then) brought me to Mars and introduced me to Stanley. You had just recently left for university life on Earth, so we didn't meet for a few years. I could feel my suspicions rising again. Isolated house. Middle-aged man, teenaged girl. I was a bit scared, especially when I learned he was growing herbs to use as drugs; I thought he used his herbs to make sardon. I wanted to get clean. I wanted to become what I could be, as Boris told me Stanley would make it possible for me to do.
   "Still, there was something about him that let me lower my guard, a part of Stanley that few people have ever known. You and me and Christina. I don't think anyone else ever knew the real Stanley Narb. When I learned he was 'Dr. Narb,' and not just some old guy coming on to me, and when he offered me the chance to live a better life, I moved in with him. And he made me understand that not all men are vicious bastards. He made it possible for me to appreciate you. And he had me clean up my act."
   "You're right. I was away at university then. He told me that a girl about my age was living in the house, and assured me that I'd like her. Was he ever right!"
   "I felt the same way. Eventually we found out what his secret experiments were all about. You must have learned something about his mysterious experiments from your friends at the university. I found out accidentally, stumbling across some of his notebooks when I was packing to go to university. You had been sworn to secrecy. At first, I was mad at you for not telling me anything about that. And he wasn't able to extend my life for years, until we were able to move here to Canaan."
   "You'll never know how much I wanted to be able to tell someone!"
   "Well, I ended up admiring you for being able to keep as quiet as a clam, and learned how important it is to do that at times. Even after we were able to have his trial invalidated, we really had to keep a secret of his past, our pasts, the nature of the set-up here."
   "We were his second and third experiments with the 500-year extension, the only ones who never had the 200-year treatment first. He was of course his own first subject for the 500-year extension, and Christina his fourth. And there have been no others. But we've added a few recruits to the ELB."
   "Speaking of the ELB, have you noticed that there are almost no new members?"
   "Numamba, I heard on one of the channels that there is talk of disbanding the ELB. No need for us any more, what with the latest craft in the fleet, and with a new quantum-drive ship in the planning stages."
   "Quantum drive? Get rid of the ELB, or let it die a natural death? You've got to be kidding!"
   "No, actually, when you think of it, the two ideas fit together. Suppose a quantum-drive spaceship gets beyond the drawing board. People could zip around the galaxy in seconds--or rather in no time at all! The power demands would be enormous, and the technical demands might be even greater, but who would have thought that the matter-transport teleportation system would be replaced by a quantum teleportation system?"
   "I guess you could say it's a first step to a quantum-drive spaceship. But quantum teleportation is still effective only at relatively close range, a few kilometers, I think."
   "Not effective, Numamba, but safe and proven up to a few kilometers, maybe 20. I know that the Constellation mission is experimenting with inert objects at distances of up to 100 kilometers initially, more if they're repeatedly successful at that range. When Christina comes back, she'll fill us in."
   "But suppose she doesn't come back, and suppose something happens to you, or to me. Eventually, you know we'll be alone, after the last of the ELBers dies, if you're right that Earth Government will phase out the process."
   "Well, yes, but that's in the order of things. We'd have a strange stature, until that terrible last year, a stature of being immortal. Until then, even if it's just you or just me among the ten or twelve billion people scattered around our little corner of the galaxy, we'll be happy, I think, in our state. And then, who knows? With luck we can go on longer."
   "You make it sound so romantic. You make me want to become immortal, or quasi-immortal."
   "Hey, it's just a dream, Numamba."
   "Dream or no dream, it sounds just terrific! Numamba the Immortal. Just imagine the kind of conversations I could engage in. 'How old are you, Dr. Stisreg?' 'Oh, let's see, next month will be my 1,200th birthday. Do you want to celebrate with me?' What a joy to contemplate!"
   "My dear wife, has your mind taken a vacation? This is the real world, down here, see?"
   "My dear husband, with another 500 years, I could make it easily to 1,150, and who says there can't be more!"
   "You can't be serious, Numamba. All our experiments in that line have failed. Two operations seem to be all that any creature can take. In fact, one operation, if the first one is for the longest term. No creature has ever survived the operation after the longest extension, the equivalent of 500 years in human terms, no creature has been able to live through such an extension. There seems to be a natural limit to extended life."
   "You're not sounding like our adoptive father. He would push things to the limit, and beyond. Wake up, Det! Be bold! Be creative!"
   "Numamba, your eyes have that glow in them that spells the end of discussion. You're going to want to do this. I refuse to go along with you on this unless within a couple of years we can come up with an experimental animal who lives through it. Even a worm! I don't want to run the risk of losing you to some half-thought-out experiment."
   "OK, you're on. One success, and it'll be my turn."
   "I don't like it. This can only spell trouble. But I'll do my best to help you with your experiments. And I promise that I'll do whatever I can to make them work. Some of our herbs have recently increased the rate of success of ordinary extended life with our grasshoppers, that have been resistant to the process. Maybe if this is injected into the blood or the tissue of other creatures..."
   "Oh, Det, I knew I could count on you, even if you are overly cautious! When do we start? Tomorrow?"
   "Hey, first we have to draw up our plan, map out all our variables, line up the most likely subjects, try to maximize the potential of success. We'll have to re-examine the data from the centuries of experiments we've already completed so as to avoid duplicating any errors we might find and to see if there was a step or two in the process that might have improved chances of success. If that's what you mean by tomorrow, no problem. But it might take a good year for tomorrow to get here."
   "After that, we'll see where our new experiments will take us. I'm thrilled by the prospect of starting."
   "Numamba, Numamba, don't forget that we're still working on important matters concerning life on Mars. Creating a more Earth-like gravitational field. Bringing the tectonics to the point where more heat is generated in the core of Mars, and where gasses are emitted to make the atmosphere somewhat denser and warmer. Perhaps steadying the planet's swaying and wobbling, to make the seasons more predictable and more regular. We've made progress in these fields, but we have to do more. That's our primary job."
   "Sure, along with training more and more herbalists so that eventually the Reservation can get along without us on this score. The ADPs seem finally to have taken to the idea of experimental herb farms for medicine and also for food and flavorings. But we have plenty of spare time, even with all that. I'm so excited! I'm determined to get this to work this time around."
   "All right, all right, we have of our own free will decided to start tomorrow, as redefined. Now I want to exercise my free will again to go back to my deterministic friend and his story."
   "Oof! another pun. If I had any free will I'd want to bop you one."

Extracts from Numamba's Telelog Entries from 2860
 

1 March

   Almost a year gone by since we began working on a second maximum extended life. Det has been keeping his word: he's been doing his best not only with setting up some of the experiments, but also in working on herbs to deliver natural chemicals to the animals' bodies. We've come up short, though. 700 worms in two species, all dead in hours. The grasshoppers, one of our best hopes, all 2,000 of them, dead in 3 to 24 hours. Our 75 laboratory mice and our 18 field mice, all dead inside of a week. There's some hope, though: three of our salamanders have lived beyond a week, the longest stretch so far. Not a good percentage, it's true: we tried out 105 of them. But what's this? All of them used a combination of extracts from basil, tarragon, and oregano, mixed in with St. John's Wort and a few other garden herbs. They're still being fed that. And look at them scamper around! I've never seen them so active!
   Hmm, we've been using a lot of those herbs these past two months. Maybe I should give it a try. Det won't like it, though. I promised not to do anything rash, not until our results are demonstratedly sound and replicated. Still Numamba the rebellious teenager? Yes, but who am I rebelling against? Det? No. I'm really rebelling against that Numamba I've become, the one who doesn't want to take chances, who doesn't want anything to happen to her. I need to show her that I am still an adventurous person, willing to take risks. I know that Stanley would agree with Det on this matter. Don't rush into things!
But can I wait? No, this is my one and only chance for a while. If this works, we'll perhaps have found a more natural way to live a life that's unnaturally long. Nice paradox. I'll compromise and wait until tomorrow morning. I'll still have enough time, before Det comes back from his business on Venus, to recover from the procedure. A month to see if everything has worked, and if not, another month for the second procedure to run its course. I remember Stanley saying that he had had 100% success the second try. Of course, that was with the shorter-term procedure, and the first time around only. With him and Christina as the only persons to have undergone a double procedure, he had a 100% success rate. If I succeed, I'll have a 100% success rate with a double-maximum procedure.
  If.
   Think positively, Numamba. When. When I succeed. And I will succeed with myself just as I've succeeded with these three  salamanders. At seven tomorrow morning, it all begins. Then we'll wait and see.

1 May

   The pain is horrible. Is that what our subject animals had to live through? The thought of their suffering is terrible. No more experiments on them. Just on me. Too bad the first attempt didn't take. Ouch! Oooh! My head! My back! From right inside my spine! Aah! went away. Breathe deep, Numamba.
   The month has gone by. I'm ready for my second try. Tissue samples taken from all over. Worked on the appropriate gene. The little salamanders are still scampering about. Looks promising.  Now to get on with the injection. Maybe the first time I didn't do it absolutely right. Maybe I should have made sure I hit the nerve. It did sting, but it didn't hurt in the same way it did when I had my first procedure, without which I wouldn't be alive to do this one.
   Serum tested out strong. OK. A bit of calm now. Remember to get it well within the nerve. Maybe I should inject at a somewhat more oblique angle. That's it, it might have been the angle. Not enough of the serum got into the nerve. Make sure you don't shake; hold steady. That's better. Nothing to be nervous about. Squeeze down, now. Ow! OK. It's done. Now to wait and see.

8 May

   Two of the salamanders died overnight. Only one left. They lived for just over six weeks. Doesn't bode well for me. Maybe I rushed a bit too much. No, that can't be: a week after the second try, I still feel fine. That pain has gone. I feel strangely keyed up, hardly able to contain myself. I don't seem to need more than 3 or 4 hours of sleep. My log looks odd since the second injection last week. Improved health. Skin tone looks good. Eyes are clear. Intellectual abilities really heightened.  Made a breakthrough on two fronts: the wobble and the atmosphere. The results are already noticeable with the wobble, which has really calmed down a lot; and there are clear signs that the atmosphere is getting a bit denser, less like Earth at 3000 meters, more like what it is at 2500 meters. That might be coming from something else, though. Perhaps gases spread from the increased seismic activity we've been noticing. But I think it's from the new formulation I've worked out. I've put a long summary on Det's computer. I won't say a word to him about it. Let him discover the phenomenon and the notations on his own. It'll be funny to see his face when he realizes I got on my own what the two of us have been working on for 25 years!

15 May

   The third salamander died, a week after the other two. Odd. I see in my notes that they were all unusually active after the operation until just a few hours before their death. Running around, catching insects, climbing, jumping with extraordinaty energy. This behavior went on for days, even weeks. Suddenly, the cameras caught them stopping almost in mid-step. They began to mope around, as if tired. They seemed to spend a lot of time sleeping. They moved very slowly, as if dragging themselves around. No appetite. Breathing seemed to become difficult. Then they spun around a few times, and stopped in their tracks. They were dead.
   Can that be what will happen to me, translated to human terms? I wonder if my heightened acuteness and--let's face it--my hyperactivity are in some way related to what happened to them. I have never felt quite like this before; even in my worst days, before Boris rescued me, when I was high on drugs, it was different.
   This has me worried.
   If there is a parallel, it will be clear that I made a terrible mistake. An irreversible one. Instead of living longer, I'll die sooner. Was it worth it?

29 May

   This last week has been hell. I feel as though my bones are  turning into gelatin, or more likely, cartilage. My muscle tone is down. Can't do my daily routine. I'm spending more time resting, sleeping. Can't seem to get my work done. Haven't had the curiosity or the energy to check out results on the wobble and the atmospheric density problems. My pulse has slowed down. My heartbeat is a little irregular. A slight blueish hue has discolored the skin near my eyes. I have been increasing doses of the herbal drink. Things are bad. I've got to write a letter to Det to tell him about this. No, the logs tell it all, the written ones and the telelogs, like this one.
   I'm sure now that my gamble has not paid off. I can only hope to hold out a couple of weeks. Maybe Det knows a trick or two that I don't. Det, I wish you were here. I need you now. Come on home.
   A dull headache. I'll let Hélène know what to do with the shop and sleep a bit.

6 June

   Det should be home in a couple of days. I hope I'll live long enough to see him one more ti...