Seeking the Aphelion
Two travelers meet a perceptive space whale artist.
There should've been only dead space broken up by rocky and gaseous objects of various sizes--instead there were whales. When the observation deck opened, passengers immediately flocked to the panorama windows.
Akila hung back with Bryn. Perfect vision allowed her to observe minute details: dorsal fins, textured baleen when they opened their mouths, the blowhole on the smallest whale's back. Her neurolink informed her that one was a minke while the largest in her field of vision was a blue whale. Bryn whistled. "I can't even tell whether they're holos or real."
"Both, as a matter of fact," answered a voice from behind.
They turned. Pupil-less black eyes gazed out of a round white face. The speaker wore a dark cloak that obscured their body shape but their voice was deep and smooth.
Akila would have considered for a minute or two. Bryn simply asked: "How is that possible?"
The stranger smiled. "They exist on a plane that cannot be perceived by three-dimensional beings. I merely translated them into three-dimensional space and gave them a visible shape that I thought most closely resembled the original one."
"You are Cylilsu Isi," Akila realized, "the famous holo artist."
Cylilsu's smile widened and when Bryn extended a hand, they grasped it briefly. "That is the name I usually go by. Feel free to call me Cyl though."
When they'd introduced themselves as father and daughter, Cyl gestured to a nearby table. The journey would be long and conversation a welcome distraction from the discomfort of traveling on the cramped Rorqual. As Cyl ordered tea, several gold rings flashed on their black-skinned hands. Each ring held highest quality precious stone--burgundy, onyx, pearl white.
"How curious," Akila began when they'd ordered, "that through this piece of yours, two facts that should be mutually exclusive have come to exist simultaneously."
"Isn't it?" Cyl purred. Like all artists, they preened when someone acknowledged the core of what they had wanted to express with their art. "Hundreds of years ago, people thought something could only be a particle or a wave, never both at the same time."
"Finding out it could be both broke a lot of what was considered irrefutably true back then," Bryn continued. "Quantum mechanics was another step on the way to deciphering the universe. Which we still haven't succeeded in doing."
"You are a physicist, then?" Cyl asked.
"Astronomer. We're on the way to BASS Station where I'll be taking a research position."
"Ah," Cyl said politely and then, turning back to Akila: "Of course, I did not mean to suggest that real whales are the same as holoprojected whales in all aspects. Certainly not in the aspects that matter."
Akila ran a quick net search for references. Surprisingly, she came up blank. "What do you mean?"
"It is merely the same thing happening on two levels at once, and not even exactly the same but merely two things that are very different except for the fact that they're both whale-shaped, so to say. A recursive process."
"The holos weren't compounded from the original whales by following a fixed recursive rule though. They are an artifical addition, a second layer that exists parallel to the first without ever touching it. Aren't they?" Akila wondered. After all, she couldn't step outside her three-dimensional confines, couldn't even conceptualize those original whales.
"They are not. And I am glad, for if it were otherwise, the entire system might be in danger of gaining intelligence. Quite a hassle, is it not?" Here, Cyl shot Bryn a glance.
Bryn flushed. "How did you know?"
When Cyl blinked, a star-like twinkle appeared in their large black eyes. "That Akila is not actually your daughter but a synthetic consciousness in a biological body? Almost immediately. This is my specialty, after all."
Despite Bryn's questions, Cyl refused to say any more. Akila merely sat and watched their exchange. Eventually Bryn fell silent, clearly afraid of being overheard. She covered his hand with hers. "Cyl isn't overly excited. Their heart rate is normal, they're not sweating, their body language is relaxed. I'm 90% certain we have nothing to fear from them."
Bryn eyed their opponent.
"Akila is correct. I will keep your secret," Cyl said solemnly, then smiled. I am not a threat, that smile said. "You are headed for BASS Station to seek refuge for someone such as her outside CoGS space?"
"Yes," Bryn said.
"Then I wish you luck," Cyl said, bejeweled fingers stapled on the table, black gaze unwavering, "all the luck in the galaxy."
Akila couldn't detect any falsehood in their voice.
This story is based on concepts of recursion and artificial intelligence discussed in Gödel Escher Bach by Douglas R. Hofstadter. Any mistakes or inconsistencies are entirely my own.