The Scatterport

The Scatterport

     Humans on Earth had been visiting the ruins on the moon for thousands of years—even long before the Amazonian Rain Forest on Earth was encapsulated in a biosphere, and longer still than the Great Volcanic Disruption of North America that set off the nuclear bombs. It was for many humans a religious experience—proof that life beyond the planet Earth existed. Proof that the cosmos was an opportunity for discovery, and proof that humans had a destiny beyond the Solar System. Or at least, that's what people had thought, long before You stepped foot on the rocky soil of the moon, exiting your lander module, and hitching your suit to the guide cable that leads to the temple entrance. You had never been here before, and indeed, you had never heard of anyone making the journey to the abandoned moon colonies. You had seen images, but they didn't relate the strangeness of what You now see through your infa-red interpretation display, which scans the darkness for the massive stone monument before You.

     “Where are all the lights, Jenny?” You ask your digital companion as You trudge forward through the rocky terrain. “The study material showed me bright lights.”

     “These reflectors are thousands of years old. That's a lot of dust to clean off,” it tells you. “I'd recommend Windex, but we know you don't believe in cleaning.”

     “Why clean something if you can just reconfigure its molecules?”

     “You're a savage,” Jenny tells you. “That's why you don't have a civilization.”

     “If I'm so primitive, why'd you clone me?” You joke.

     “I don't like to get my hands dirty,” it tells You. “I've kept them clean since I made them. Can your eyes see the surfaces in front of you? You need to be careful. I can't fix any damage that happens to you here.”

     “I can see alright. The display is working fine. I see the entry port. It's old like you.”

     “Deploy a pulse,” Jenny commands. “Let's get the house lights turned on.”

     You aim your forearm at the structure, and the vacuum suit you wear shoots a photon pulse into the dust. The whole place comes alive in an instant. The guide cable hooked to your suit becomes luminescent.

     “Welcome, traveler!” the guide cable tells you, now lit up like a blue bolt of electricity. “You are next in line to enter the Temple. Please refrain from smoking, cursing, or detonating while on these sacred premises. How will you pay the entrance fee? All forms of digital currency are accepted. You must relinquish all of your currency to enter.”

     “What's happening, Jenny?” You ask. The entry platform becomes busy with motion. Gusts of gas begin to whirl around You, kicking up dust, and drowning out your view screen. You switch your screen to thermal, and everything around You is hot against the cold backdrop of space. “I'm covered in particles!”

     “This is expected. Be patient,” Jenny warns. “Don't get emotional.”

     “It wants something from me. What does it want?” You ask. A blast of gas shakes the moon dust off your suit, and knocks you over, but the vacuum suit's gyroscope stands you back upright.

     “It wants money. It's something humans required to facilitate progress.” Jenny explains. “A quid pro quo. Like when I don't hurt you because you obey me.”

     “I see,” You say. “Is this thing going to hurt me?”

     “It's possible. Humans made it, so it can probably kill you. Just be polite.”

     “Traveler, please present mode of payment with your currency implant. Payment must be made for entrance, and parking. There has been an error processing your payment. Currency exchanges are not in sync. Alternative payment may be accepted. Synthetic life-form detected. Synthetic life-forms are prohibited from entering the temple. Please acknowledge.”

     “Jenny?” You call out.

     “This is expected,” Jenny states. “It's why you're here. Tell it you want to go in alone.”

“Hello, gatekeeper? Jenny's not actually here. It's connected to my suit from Jupiter moon, Io. I wish to enter alone.”

     “Traveler, please instruct the synthetic life-form to wait in the parking area. It must sever connection with your immediate persons. You must comply now.”

     “I'll be observing from the landing module,” Jenny tells You.  "Remember your training. Rely on your instincts. You've been engineered with everything I could offer your DNA. This is why you exist. The only reason. If you refuse to enter, I'll terminate you. Disconnecting.”

     “Traveler, you are ready to enter the temple once payment is made. You may offer a sacrifice in lieu of currency. What would you like to sacrifice?”

     “Sacrifice?” You ask. “What must I sacrifice?” You imagine how Jenny might terminate You. Your predecessor was incinerated for refusing to work, and you believe that was a painful way to die. Jenny told You it was, and that there were many painful ways to die, and she had experimented with them all before she cloned You.

     “The temple will accept a donation of genetic material that represents a significant personal loss. You may sacrifice an eye, an eardrum, an arm, a leg, a lung, or a kidney. It will be collected upon entry. Please decide now.”

You offer:

1. An Eye
2. An Eardrum
3. An Arm
4. A Leg
5. A Lung
6. A Kidney

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