ÆLFSTAN OF XANTHE

ÆLFSTAN OF XANTHE

A TALE FROM AN ALTERNATE FUTURE by strzeka

 

33PCEviii (Population Commission Edict No.8 of 2133) was immutable. Mathematicians in both Antarctica and in The Lunar Communes insisted that the bio-adaptive demands were no longer necessary for successful colonisation but, due no doubt to lingering conservatism in resource deployment, the original plans were maintained. The first Martian colonists would travel to their new home as quadruple amputees to save weight, to be fitted with new titanium and gold silicate prostheses after arrival.

 

The decision was the result of heated discussion over many decades while reassurances gradually arrived from the Martian outposts that new homesteads were ready for human arrivals. Robots had worked night and day for decades to detoxify the Martian soil below which the homesteads were built. They constructed new homes and maintained terrestrial bacteria and algae pools to feed the arrivals until they invented preferable alternatives. The central artificial intelligence on Mars, Emo, guided and directed work on all homesteads and had worked reliably for seven decades, originally using solar energy and the artificial intelligence technology available in 2068. Augmented by continual uploads in technological advances, Emo was now reaching the end of her planned functional life. Mars was still far from being terraformed but seven underground townships were ready to welcome the first colonists. They were on their way.

 

Earth sent three shuttles to the Moon over a period of four months. Four launches were attempted from the Hyderabad launching site, only three of which succeeded in reaching lunar reconnaissance. The fourth was struck by a defunct satellite, instantly cancelling three hundred human colonists. Fortunately, minimum requirements for colonisation remained valid. Lack of lunar resources required all arrivals to undergo their amputations immediately on arrival from Earth and to be transferred to recovery facilities, in coma, to await their departure for Mars. Colonists were graded A or B, depending on whether or not they retained arms. Limbless Grade Bs were prized for their intellectual creativity—artists, architects, mathematicians, historians. Grade As were skilled engineers intended to assist AI robots with biological fingers if additional dexterity was required for the success of an unforeseen function.

 

Nine days after the last of the colonists had been processed, the intensive care recovery module containing one thousand and ten sleeping amputees was slotted into the Mars transport vehicle. Exhaustive mechanical and medical checks were undertaken and at the optimum moment, the craft rose slowly above the lunar surface far into near-space before igniting its nuclear power source and heading towards its destination, Xanthe City near the Martian equator.

 

The ship produced an intense magnetic shield around itself in an effort to deflect as much solar and cosmic radiation as possible. The most precious cargo – human eggs and sperm – needed to be protected. A lot was riding on the successful foundation of a working, living colony. Xanthe was currently a functioning township with energy and food production, seven hundred identical residential units, and everything necessary for a humanist economy, all designed for legless colonists in low gravity. Only the population itself was missing. Emo received affirmation that the transport was on its way and alerted the rehab robots to prepare for reception three days before touchdown.

 

One thousand pairs of replacement arms and a thousand five hundred sturdy pairs of stubbies had been manufactured in readiness. The sockets were all conical and would extend as far on the arrivals’ stumps as they would fit. The remarkable properties of the alloy used to manufacture the limbs would generate a bond between the artificial limbs and the wearers’ stumps, transforming every new arrival into a cyborg. The material was a new alloy of titanium, gold and elgoresyite, unique to Martian mineral deposits, which demonstrated a voracious affinity for carbon. The artificial limbs extended filaments and nanotendrils into flesh, bonding and melding with the biological material which they contacted. It was expected that the colonists’ new limbs would blend gradually from flesh to metal, glowing with a pleasing golden sheen and which contrasted well with Earth’s myriad skin tones.

 

While the colonists still slept their artificial sleep in the intensive care recovery module, their prosthetic limbs were fitted by two robots, one programmed to handle arms, the other concentrated on legs. The prostheses themselves were basic, almost primitive. Hands comprised a thumb and a curved slab to represent four fingers. There were no wrist joints and elbow joints were stiff, maintaining their position by friction. They were not operable by the wearer other than by outside force. The prosthetic legs were conical sockets tapering to cylinders ten centimetres in diameter and thirty centimetres long. After seventeen hours, all the new arrivals were wearing their full complement of artificial limbs which would meld with their stumps over the next fifteen days to such an extent that the first newcomers could be awoken and activated.

 

– – – – – – -

 

Ælfstan was the first to revive. He was one of four engineers intended as back-up for Xanthe’s technical robots. He lay alongside Allardf, Sigeweard and Beorhtric who were showing signs of returning consciousness. They had been allowed to retain their biological upper limbs but all four now sported their new cylindrical stubbies. Ælfstan carefully raised his body to inspect his new legs and appreciated their brevity and pristine perfection. In a few minutes, he would be allowed to stand and shortly the four men would make their way to the briefing room where they would be assigned living quarters and their first work.

 

Ælfstan looked around. Everything he saw had been sourced on Mars. The walls were a glossy dark red ceramic. The floors shone in the ambient lighting, a ruddy brown with red streaks randomly indicating the direction of the emergency escape exits, clearly marked ULOS with an arrow prominent on every wall. The few fixtures around him appeared to be the same ceramic as the walls but a shade lighter, tending toward pink. A row of seating by the entrance caught his attention due to their odd design. The seats were partitioned with semicircular channels which Ælfstan suddenly realised were intended to hold rigid stubby legs in place. He wanted to test the seating for comfort. He wanted to sense the solidity afforded by the stubbies and how they would affect posture and range of movement. He lifted his right thigh and rotated it. The golden prosthesis weighed very little. Its tip swung in an easy arc. Ælfstan was satisfied. Allardf spoke.

            – Ælfstan? You’re awake?

            – A few minutes ago. It’s good to see you, Allardf. How do you feel?

            – Disoriented. Are the amputations done?

            – Yes, and if you sit up, you’ll see what you have instead of legs. Check these out!

Ælfstan raised both stubby legs in turn to demonstrate what Allardf too had for legs. What everyone had for legs. Allardf blinked to clear his vision and watched the movement of the golden stubbies. He pushed himself up and peered down at his own identical prostheses. He touched the seam where his flesh ended and the gold silicate alloy began. There was an enticing area where sensation faded away. The golden stubbies melded well with his Mediterranean skin tone. Ælfstan’s skin was much lighter, Nordic, blond. The gold looked good against that too.

            – Have you asked Apu what to do yet?

            – No. Let’s wait for the other two first. It could be that we’ll be one unit, living together. Apu will know but we might as well all hear what it has to say.

Apu was the omnipotent assistant which listened for requests for instruction or assistance from the colonists and which could instantly alert Emo if a situation required supreme decision. Apu’s own artificial intelligence was sufficient to resolve most anticipated problems.

 

Beorhtric and Sigeweard regained consciousness almost simultaneously. Beorhtric was immediately conscious of his remodelled legs and lifted his metallic cylindrical thighs to appraise them. He glanced around and noticed Allardf and Ælfstan watching him. He allowed his legs to fall back and pushed himself into a sitting position with his hands.

            – Hallo! Have you been awake long?

            – Hallo, Beorhtric. No, an hour or so. Don’t get up just yet. Give it ten minutes. How do you like your legs?

            – They look very impressive, don’t they? How do they feel to walk on?

            – Very sturdy. Don’t forget the Martian gravity is a third of that on Earth. Using the new legs is easy, quite effortless.

            – Good. Have you had any instruction yet?

            – No. We were waiting for you first. Hallo, Sigeweard. Welcome back.

Sigeweard pushed himself up and grinned at the others. He turned his attention to his own reconfiguration.

            – Ah, they’ve fitted them already. Good.

            – They should be ready for use, my friend. Stay put for a few minutes.

 

Sigeweard leaned forward and inspected the interface between flesh and metal and felt the gradual loss of sensation at the seam. The legs felt natural and extended further than where his knees had been. Now he would walk on bio‑incorporated metal prostheses, the single most distinctive feature of the new Martians. Everyone was briefed and informed about their future cyborg bodies many times before departure. No-one should regard themselves as disabled with the new artificial limbs. They had been meticulously designed by artificial intelligence to function in the new society they were forging.

 

Fifteen minutes passed while the four naked men inspected their bodies, prostheses and surroundings. The room was overwhelmingly red in its many variations. Everything in Xanthe had been mined and manufactured on Mars. Its water was brought as ice from beneath the poles. As a result, building materials were overwhelmingly red, the rusty colour of the planet itself.

            – I think I’m ready to rise. Shall we ask Apu for directions where to go?

Apu sounded a chime.

            – A guide will join you shortly. Follow it to your living quarters.

            – Oh! Apu is listening all the time.

A small robot travelling on three spherical wheels entered and announced itself with a series of clicks. Its display bore the word OPAS, guide. It was semi-autonomous. Apu controlled it. The men rose onto their stubbies and appraised each other.

            – We’re ready.

The robot reversed and slowly exited the recovery module, still emitting its audible clicks. The engineers each took a toga from the dispenser by the door. Lighting along the corridor stretching ahead was less harsh than in the recovery module. Lighting outside living quarters followed the natural light outside on the surface, dimming to near darkness at night, brightening again as day broke. A door slid open and the four engineers entered their allocated living space. Four short beds lined the walls. In the centre of the room were more chairs with the unusual semi-cylindrical notches to hold their stubbies and a low table. The opposite wall held a tank of water and a small space perhaps for food preparation. Behind a dividing wall was a commode and sonic shower. It was spartan but presumably adequate. The interior appeared to be almost entirely made from the ruddy ceramic material.

 

            – Thank you, Opas. Will you show us the dining room and our workshop?

            – Follow the robot.

The text on its display changed from OPAS to SEURAA. Follow. Text throughout Xanthe was in the Finnish language, which had been selected for its unambiguous precision and its neutrality. It was preferable to imposing a dominant Earth language like Spanish or Chinese on a new outpost. Emo’s name meant Mother, Apu meant Help and ULOS, posted on one side of every door, meant Exit. Apu understood all the natural languages which the colonists spoke. Xanthe would not have an official language until one developed naturally over time.

 

The corridor curved to the right and widened into a large dining room. Four low dining chairs with the distinctive channels to hold stubbies were arranged around each of sixteen low circular tables. Once again, the predominant colour was rusty red in darker or lighter tones. Apu spoke.

            – Your mealtimes are stated on the video display in your living quarters. You have fifteen minutes for breakfast, fifteen minutes for lunch, twenty minutes for dinner.

            – Thank you, Apu.

Allardf tried out one of the dining chairs. It was immobile, moulded as part of a single unit comprising the other chairs and the central table. He sat sideways and pulled himself onto the chair. His stubbies slotted into place and he was seated firmly at the table. He lifted his left stubby out of its channel, twisted his body and lifted his right stubby out. He held the back of the chair for support as he regained his balance.

            – Comfortable enough, I suppose.

            – What do you think those channels are for?

            – The seating is designed for safety. Your legs have no tactile sensation. The channels hold the user in a secure position.

            – Thank you, Apu. Can we see our workshop next?

            – Follow the robot.

The robot clicked to gain attention and slowly moved back to the corridor. The engineers followed, their hollow stubbies sounding on the ceramic floor. Twenty meters further on, they stopped by a door marked HISSI. It slid aside and they entered a lift. Apu activated it and they descended for half a minute. The door opened onto an almost identical corridor, differing only by the much darker colouring of the floor. The robot clicked its way ahead, past sliding doors marked with four digit numbers. It stopped abruptly by a door which slid open to reveal a brightly lit workshop with low benches, completely devoid of tools and equipment. The engineers entered and looked around in bemusement.

            – Where’s all the gear?

            – Equipment will be delivered in conjunction with each project.

            – Logical enough. I’m getting hungry. Apu, do you know when our first meal is?

            – Your first meal is in thirty-eight minutes. Do you wish to return to the dining room?

            – Yes, I think so.

            – Follow the robot.

It clicked to attract attention and rolled towards the corridor. The men kept pace with it, gradually learning the best motions for operating their new short and rigid legs in the weak gravity. They heard human voices before they reached the dining room. Voices of alarm and indignation. Something was wrong.

 

A dozen or so Grade B colonists had awakened and gathered in the dining room. Several, seated securely, had food in front of them but were finding it next to impossible to feed themselves. Their claws could grab foodstuff but the mechanical elbows were proving difficult to bend manually with the other claw. It was also proving next to impossible to drink from a cup of water. The engineers attracted attention by merely being the only people in the room with natural arms. Ælfstan stumped over to a woman, her head bowed, weeping.

            – Please don’t distress yourself. Can you explain the problem? My friends and I are engineers and we need to understand.

            – The arms don’t bend. Not unless we push on the forearm. But the new arms are too slick. It makes it very difficult.

            – Will you show us? Take a bite of the patty.

The young woman manipulated her golden arm until the thumb closed on the food. She tried using her other arm to adjust the elbow but in her struggle the food dropped from her claw.

            – You see? What are we going to do? How can we eat or wash or dress?

            – I understand. It seems there has been a misjudgment. Some kind of design error. I’ll talk to Apu and let it know about the situation. Are you hungry? May I help you?

Ælfstan picked up the food and held it for the woman to bite. The three other engineers went to different tables to assist other diners who were struggling. Ælfstan intuited that the handicapped diners could feed each other. They could not bring their claws to their own mouths but nothing prevented them from feeding each other. He called their attention and pointed it out. There were interjections at how something so obvious could be overlooked and the tremulous atmosphere in the room lifted.

 

The engineers returned to their room. Ælfstan called Apu’s attention.

            – Did you hear the conversation in the dining room, Apu?

            – I did.

            – Some of Grade B are unhappy with their arm prostheses.

            – This was expected. We understand that Grade B colonists may prefer to be self-reliant. We decided to provide basic arm prostheses. Redesign is permitted, subject to approval on use of resources.

            – Is it possible to recycle the existing arms?

            – The prostheses are permanently bonded to the colonists’ stumps. It is possible to remove the forearm and claw for replacement.

            – I see. Is there a prosthetist among the colonists?

            – I know of none.

            – OK. Thank you, Apu. Well, this is an interesting conundrum for us. Does anyone know anything about artificial limbs?

            – Only that they are our future and the compromise we made for the chance to come to Mars.

            – I think we ought do some research before we ask the opinions of Grade B. We should have some idea of the possibilities before we apply for resources. Apu, please turn the screen on and permit access to historical files on mechanical prostheses.

            – Use channel 71.

The four engineers gathered in front of the screen and studied examples of body-powered upper limb prostheses, as they were known. There were old descriptions in text format but the video gave a comprehensive impression of what was possible with meagre resources. It gradually became clear that some kind of harness would be necessary. Something to attach the new movable elbows to which could be removed. A sturdy textile should be sourced.  It would not be possible to wear the artificial arms permanently in the same way as the stubbies.  Beorhtric and Ælfstan began to consider ways of recycling a thousand pairs of unwanted prosthetic forearms. Only with the raw material available could the replacements become feasible.

 

Ælfstan persuaded the other engineers to allow him to discuss the practicalities with Apu and returned to the workshop far beneath them. The light was fading in the corridors, a reminder of the oncoming evening. It was possible to stream the view of the surrounding countryside onto walls in the living quarters unless a sandstorm was under way. The Martian skyline was an awe-inspiring sight after darkness fell. Ælfstan entered his workspace and checked his notes for the main points he wished to learn more about. He had an idea about regaining most of the necessary material by re-amputating Grade B’s arms—this time, slicing through the titanium-gold silicate with a laser in order to recycle the material. When he had generated a working virtual model of a practical prosthesis which the Grade Bs approved, new arms could be printed and the entire population would again have functioning elbows. The terminal devices, as they had been referred to in the videos, were another matter. He did not believe that the bilateral hooks he had watched being used by a family of double amputees in a video from 2071 would be favoured. Something which looked more natural would surely be preferable.

 

Ælfstan and Apu discussed the problem and its potential solutions until late. Alfstan learned that the current prostheses could be readily severed two centimetres below the interface. A hemispherical cap could be bonded to the ring of metal still attached to the stump, providing a prosthetic stump to which the new arm prostheses could be attached. Grade B would boast both arm and leg stumps which blended flesh with gold. Apu announced that Emo had refused to allow any more material for prosthetic use to be created. The new arms would have to be printed from the recycled metal from the current versions. There was, however, a quantity of titanium which had been allocated but not used and was now available. Ælfstan thanked Apu and Emo for their assistance and stumped back along darkened corridors up to his living quarters. He let his short toga slide to the floor and rolled into bed.

 

Breakfast was the same as the previous evening’s supper. A dark drink reminiscent of coffee was on offer, made from algae. It immediately gained the name alfee and some mediocre support. It was drinkable and plentiful. Sigeweard agreed to wait in their quarters in case anyone should need help with something. The other three descended to their workshop to set about planning two thousand amputations. Beorhtric suggested it would be helpful if there were a medical representative and a Grade B prosthetics user present. Apu announced that two such would shortly be present.

 

Ælfstan had understood enough from the videos they had watched the previous day that the amputees had precious little movement available to operate both elbows and terminal devices. He requested more technical information about the manufacture and technical details of the last such items produced on Earth, some time in the early 2080s. Two young men tottered in, one holding out a hand to shake, the other a golden claw. Their status was obvious but they introduced themselves according to custom.

            – Braunlowe, medical assistant.

            – Amalric, geologist.

Ælfstan, Beorhtric and Allardf returned the favour and explained what they had suddenly and  unexpectedly been confronted with. They all had several questions for Amalric, who fidgeted with his claws as if he did not quite know how to position them when relaxed. They were all sitting, identical stubbies firmly held by their chair seats.

            – I’ve asked you here for your advice. Yesterday evening, several Grade Bs had trouble using their new arms to feed themselves. We solved the problem by advising them to feed each other and we have had no more calls since.

            – My colleagues understood straight away. We can dress ourselves in these togas but two are needed to eat and drink. It’s perfectly fine.

            – Good! I’m happy to hear it. The group last night were more insistent and asked us to find a way to make the elbows responsive. Yours are mechanical too, aren’t they, Amalric?

Amalric’s forearms pointed in random directions. It was not a position anyone with their natural arms would adopt.

            – Yes. I can move them with the opposite claw to how I need them. Then I can use the claw.

            – Do you find it inconvenient? Would you prefer to be able to control the elbow without needing to push it into position?

            – It would be more convenient.

            – Good. Would you volunteer to be our tester? We have a few ideas which we would like to try and we need someone from Grade B to give us their opinion on them. There is one disadvantage, though.

            – What’s that?

            – We need to remove your current prostheses. You are going to be armless for a while.

            – Amalric can have the rounded stumps you described yesterday immediately the prints are ready. They will take less than an hour.

            – Thank you, Apu. We need to design the replacement arms first. And I also need some sturdy straps.

            – We have seven kilometres of teflon-coated artificial cotton. Its load-bearing strength is more than sufficient.

            – How wide are the strips?

            – Four centimetres.

            – Perfect! They would make superb holders for the new arms. May we have ten metres please, Apu?

            – Yes. Delivery to your workspace in nineteen minutes.

            – Can you explain what you have in mind for us?

            – Yes, of course. Excuse me, Amalric. It’s arrogant of me to assume you will volunteer without understanding our plan. Quite simply, we will remove your new arms so that part of the upper arm remains as far as your elbows. They can be remoulded to resemble normal stumps. Have you seen video of amputees before?

            – No, I never have. I only know our situation here.

            – We’ll show you some pictures we found during our research. So after you have two stumps, you will receive two additional new arms which will not meld with your flesh. Instead, you will take them off at the end of the day and replace them in the morning.

            – I see. Removable body parts. It sounds very intriguing.

            – And we would like you to agree to test the new arms which we design to make certain that we create something practical and pleasing.

            – I would be proud to help, Ælfstan.

            – Excellent. Let’s see some video and you will understand more. Apu, will you show the training film for war injured soldiers who were undergoing rehabilitation?

            – Use channel 71.

 

Amalric watched the centuries old video with the engineers. He was fascinated by the devices, entranced by the naked stumps and excited at the idea of wearing a pair of detachable arms. The men in the film seemed to have curved hooks which opened and closed allowing them to manipulate objects. And they could raise and lower the mechanical elbows.

            – That would be ideal. Look at how easily they can eat and drink. And they can use the end of their arms to do work.

The men were working on landscaping but Amalric had no idea what they were doing.

            – Do you think if you had the same kind of thing at the ends of your arms that you could use them for what you need to do?

            – I think so. But that’s why I’m here, isn’t it? That’s what we’re going to find out.

            – I certainly hope so, Amalric. Shall we get started? Let’s first ask Apu how to convert your prostheses to stumps.

 

Apu’s advice was invaluable. The existing golden arms would be severed with a sonic cutter just above the elbow hinges and replaced with a hemispherical cap, melded on permanently with an application of carbon to both surfaces to cause the metal alloy to grow its nano-tendrils. The discarded parts would be melted and reused to print the new arms. Ælfstan asked Apu to refer to the elbow mechanisms, which he did not understand himself fully, and take them into account during manufacture.

            – It is possible to design and manufacture facsimiles of the prosthetic arms with the following differences. The forearms will be long thin cylinders instead of approximations of the human forearm. The control cables will be titanium chain. We do not have the necessary steel.

            – Amalric, what do you think? Long thin arms with chains.

            – They sound quite practical. I would like to try a pair of arms like that.

            – Good. Apu, please print the necessary parts including the stump caps. How can we remove the lower arms?

            – A sonic cutter will be delivered with other necessary equipment in thirteen minutes. You will retain the equipment until grade B has been refitted in its entirety.

A small robot made its presence known by emitting a series of clicks and delivered a neatly folded strip of deep red artificial cotton strapping.

            – Ah! The material to hold the arms to your stumps. I believe it is called a harness. I need to look at the video again to see how to configure it. Apu, please show a still frame from the last video where the amputee is standing with his back to the camera.

The image appeared and Ælfstan made some quick sketches on his tablet. The logic behind the harness became clear. A second delivery robot arrived tugging a trolley bearing a frame which held two short cylinders and what Ælfstan assumed to be the sonic cutter.

            – Apu, explain please.

            – The Grade B inserts an arm into the cylinder. The sonic cutter revolves around the cylinder and cuts at the opening between the two halves of the cylinder. The Grade B retracts the new stump and the severed arm is returned for recycling. Delivery of ten stump caps and carbon adhesive in twenty-one minutes.

            – Thank you, Apu. Amalric, do you want to try? Remember you’ll be a double amputee like the men in the video for a while. You can tell us how it feels to be armless. Are you ready? Let me check the cutter.

            – It is ready for operation. I will operate the sonic cutter.

            – Apu, can you see us?

            – Of course.

This was a surprising new revelation. Amalric tottered forward and placed his left arm prosthesis into the split cylinder. Ælfstan checked the length of the imminent stump and announced that Apu could initiate the procedure. The sonic cutter emitted a low whine which quickly rose to sixty thousand Herz, far above the hearing threshold of any human. Its volume increased to two hundred decibels and the cutter began to revolve around the cylinder slowly and evenly. After five revolutions, the device stopped and presently the whine returned, rapidly falling through audible frequencies.

            – The stump may now be removed from the cutter, Amalric. Remove the severed arm, Ælfstan.

Amalric slowly withdrew his new stump. It ended in a perfect circle, his stump a short cylinder about a millimetre thick. Ælfstan lifted it to peer inside, where Amalric’s natural stump was visible, permanently part of the golden cylinder.

            – How does it feel?

            – A little lighter, of course. Otherwise, just the same.

            – It will look better in a few minutes when the caps arrive. Are you ready to lose your right arm?

            – Yes, of course.

Minutes later, his new right stump matched the other. He pulled the stump from the cutting apparatus and waggled the stumps. They were a few centimetres short of where his natural elbows had been before he arrived at the Lunar Communes. A small robot holding ten golden hemispherical stump caps clicked as it entered the workshop. Beorhtric took them and found a small amount of ultrablack carbon cupped in the uppermost cap.

            – Mix a small amount of carbon powder with water and spread it onto one of the cut surfaces. Place it against the other cut surface within twenty seconds. Hold the parts together for ten minutes at room temperature.

            – I’ll do it, Ælfstan. Continue with the harness design.

 

Ælfstan and Allardf collaborated, discussing the requirements of the artificial arms and the practicality for the wearer. Ælfstan jotted down weight and tension estimations which the tablet instantly recalculated. Fortunately the artificial cotton textile was over-engineered by a factor of seven point three but there were limited resources to manufacture less durable material.

            – Apu, what is the best way to join pieces of the artificial cotton?

            – It can be sewn, stapled, locked and melted. Melting is the most permanent.

            – Shall we make the harnesses here in the workshop? We’ll need a heat gun.

            – Make the first and submit it for manufacturing. I will analyse it and reproduce as many as you require.

            – Thank you, Apu. Shall we do the same with the design for the new arm prostheses?

            – The same. I will manufacture only one pair on each occasion until Amalric confirms the design for Grade B. Bear in mind that each variant requires new machining tools to be designed and printed.

            – Yes, of course.

 

The rest of the day was spent designing a comfortable efficient harness. The fingers of two engineers were needed to hold strips of textile in place while Ælfstan used needle rivets to secure the pieces. Ælfstan requested Apu to invite five more Grade B volunteers to visit the workshop to give their opinions on their handiwork. An Opas robot guided them from their living quarters and they all expressed surprise at seeing Amalric’s handsome rounded stumps before each trying on the bright red harness. Only the length of the straps holding the as yet non-existent artificial arms needed to be adjusted for the harness to suit any adult colonist. Ælfstan showed the visitors snippets from the videos on Channel 71 and they departed with Amalric, led by Opas, suitably excited at the prospect of regaining a full range of motion and more independence. Having to put the artificial arms on manually was a minor inconvenience but several pointed out the aesthetic quality of the new stumps. Everyone agreed that Amalric’s rounded cylinders were indeed handsome appendages and matched his thigh stump stubbies extremely well. Being limbless during sleep cycles would not be an inconvenience. Ælfstan announced that the prototype harness was ready for reproduction and it was soon collected by one of the robots. It was taken to the manufacturing sector, completely off-limits to both colonists and other humans, where it was analysed, measured, deconstructed, scanned, virtually modelled, optimised and re-analysed before a machine to mass produce harnesses assembled itself and produced a test harness. It was deemed adequate and delivered to the engineers’ workshop while they slept, dreaming of life with four muscular natural limbs.

 

Elsewhere in Xanthe, metal limbs clashed as relationships and liaisons were forged and sexual desires expressed themselves. Despite their educations and cultural value, the limbless colonists had only one job—to reproduce, creating new life and founding a new race of humans on a new planet, safe from the destruction Earth was wreaking on its remaining inhabitants, now despondently reconciled to being among the last generations on Earth. The Martian colonists, in Xanthe and later in the other six cities, would live underground until the planet’s toxic surface was viable and the lethal atmosphere was breathable. Then greater expansion could begin. A few days after their arrival, over four hundred young women were carrying zygotes, pregnant but not yet realising it.

 

After a breakfast of heated patties and two cups of alfee, Ælfstan and Beorhtric descended to the workshop and found the first manufactured harness. There was little point in asking Amalric to test it without the artificial arms. Ælfstan called Apu to ask about progress on their design.

            – We have discovered an alternative during re-analysis. It resembles the shape of a human arm.

The screen brightened to display a virtual model of the alternate design. Its shape was very similar to a muscular forearm and its surface was perforated intricately, with large organic holes comprising more than half its surface.

            – This design is stronger than the narrow cylinder by twenty-eight percent and requires thirteen percent less material.

            – It looks remarkable. I’m sure Grade B will approve. Apu, will you request the people who visited yesterday to return?

            – I will.

There was soon a small audience admiring the unexpected new alternative arm. All the women preferred it, but three of the men liked the mechanical appearance of the narrow cylinder version.

            – Is it possible to manufacture both types, Apu?

            – Available resources allow manufacture of either design. We estimate than twenty-eight percent of the prostheses will be cylindrical.

            – Have you perfected the elbow joint mechanism?

            – We have. It is incorporated in the elbow hinge. It works as shown in the rehabilitation video you requested yesterday afternoon.

            – Good. Will you commence manufacture as soon as we deliver the first severed forearms?

            – When you have delivered over fifty percent of the old forearms, we can commence manufacture.

            – I understand. People, Xantheans, you heard. It is time to begin the re-amputations. Please go and fetch everyone who is free and ferry them down here. Please tell them they will be armless for a short time. Apu, may we have more stump caps and carbon, please?

            – Two hundred stump caps and a kilo of carbon powder will be delivered in twenty-three minutes.

            – Thank you, Apu.

The group of volunteers made their way back to the Hissi chattering excitedly. The new arm was beautiful and the bright red harness promised to be a striking addition to their apparel. It was a novel concept to have detachable arms and the manipulator devices at the end seemed most intriguing.

 

A robot announced itself. It was fitted with a central pole from which jutted twenty-five branches. Apu heard Beorhtric guess it was to collect the severed arms and refrained from comment as it watched him slide Amalric’s old arms onto two of the branches. The corridor outside was suddenly resonant with the hollow clopping of a group of Xantheans stumping along to the workshop to have their arms reworked. Those still bearing claws could serve by holding the stump caps of the newly amputated in place for the few minutes it took for the first nanotendrils to initiate the melding process. The sonic cutter was soon severing recalcitrant forearms at the rate of over twenty an hour. The stumps were all a uniform diameter and the caps fit perfectly. After the cut surfaces had sealed, the cylindrical stump was indistinguishable from the cap. No join was visible. The fresh amputees returned to their living quarters to parade their armlessness.

 

Apu and Amalric helped Ælfstan and Beorhtric design the terminal devices. They had seen the war veterans using hooks to manipulate tools and to handle food and drink. Amalric estimated that hooks with a curve ten centimetres in diameter would be sufficient for most purposes. Perhaps it would be possible to design several different types for different uses.

            – Three thousand two hundred hooks can be manufactured from the supply of titanium currently reserved for prosthetic use. It is possible to supply a minimum of twenty-five identical hooks per order. We have sufficient artificial rubber to use on the hooks. Ælfstan, please submit designs for the first trial hook for evaluation and optimisation.

Amalric’s glowing stumps described arcs as he explained the shape of the hooks he envisaged for himself. Ælfstan sketched two versions and submitted them to Apu who combined their particular advantages into a third version. An animation of the virtual hook in use made its characteristics clear. Amalric beamed.

            – Please make a pair of those. The second one must be a mirror image.

            – Estimated time of delivery of completed prostheses is twelve hours nineteen minutes.

            – You mean I’ll be able to wear a pair of arms in twelve hours?

            – The prostheses must be attached to a harness and fitted with titanium chains before they are operational. These will be delivered in twelve hours eighteen minutes.

            – I can’t wait!

 

The trio spent much of the intervening time researching different versions of old split hook technology. They discovered that the large hooks which Amalric was about to get were twice the size of those which had been commonly used in centuries past. Ælfstan set to redesigning his version, shrinking its size and altering its shape. He made something resembling a split cylinder which would lift round objects and a concave disc which could open to grasp flat objects. Apu optimised and combined the designs, producing a variety of hooks and other shapes which might be useful.

 

After the evening meal, Ælfstan and Amalric returned to the workshop to await delivery of the prosthetic arms. The robot arrived exactly on time, needlessly clicking for attention. It was carrying two glossy prostheses the colour of rust terminating in large curved split hooks of titanium. A small ceramic cup contained four lengths of titanium chain comprised of centimetre long rectangular links. It would substitute for the traditional thin steel control cables. There was no steel on Mars, however. Ælfstan collected the arms and the robot reversed from the room.

            – These look very impressive. How do you like the forearms?

            – So thin! Look how it tapers from the elbow. It is rather beautiful.

            – I’m not sure what the best way to fit them is. Maybe if you wear the harness first, I can attach the arms to it and then fix the chains. Lift your stumps out.

Ælfstan put Amalric’s bright red harness over the man’s shoulders and straightened it. He picked up the right prosthesis and slid it carefully onto Amalric’s metallic stump. The prosthesis reached the upper part of Amalric’s arm before it stopped. Ælfstan considered the best way to secure the straps. There were slots around the top edge of the prosthesis.

            – I think we’ll use needle rivets until we think of something else. They should be strong enough for the time being. Hold your arm out straight so the hook doesn’t slide off.

Ælfstan found a few rivets and managed to join prosthesis and harness.

            – Let me do the other side too.

The left artificial arm slid perfectly into position, printed to a perfect tolerance. Ælfstan wondered what alloy they were made from. Obviously the titanium-gold of the prosthetic stumps was unsuitable. It would not do to have the artificial arms melding with the wearer’s flesh. Amalric stood admiring his brand new arms, excited by their appearance and promise of independence. Ælfstan plucked a link from the tiny container and lifted it. It was intended to operate the elbow joint. He closed one link around the tiny lever at the elbow and riveted the other end to the harness. The longer chain attached to the hook and harness. Ælfstan gazed at his handiwork, trying to understand the logic of the design.

            – Don’t do anything yet, Amalric. I want to make sure the left side is symmetrical first.

Several minutes later. Ælfstan stood back to admire his handiwork. The chains were taut, the harness was in place.

            – Stretch your right arm forward.

Amalric’s right elbow rose smoothly and stopped millimetres in front of his face. He relaxed and the arm dropped. He quickly understood the relationship between tension across his back and the angle of his elbow. He knew how to alternate between moving the elbow and the hook from the training videos he had watched. He lifted his stump, shrugged and stretched. The titanium hook sprang open. He relaxed and the hook snapped shut with a click, metal on metal. Amalric tried operating his left arm, watched closely by Ælfstan who only now began to understand how the two chains were necessary. They rustled as they moved, a metallic and somehow organic sound.

            – What do you think?

            – I think these are a very good first effort. I can see a few things which we need to finesse.

            – Yes, so can I. We need to find something more permanent than needle rivets. They won’t hold for long. But I suggest we do it another day. Are you happy to stop here this evening? Let’s go and have some alfee in the dining room. You can show off your arms.

            – Yes, that will be fun.

 

The dining room served as a general meeting room. Although people were restricted to four per table and held securely in place while seated, there was every opportunity to exchange views and experiences. A conversation was under way concerning the humanities. An art historian, an artist and a psychologist, all Grade B, had convened a meeting for those interested to talk about their backgrounds and to gauge interest in holding regular seminars on the meaning of art and its prospects in a new alien environment. Amalric and Ælfstan appeared quietly, having heard the murmured conversation, not wishing to disturb. Amalric’s hooks stopped the conversation immediately, however.

            – You must be Amalric. Is that right? We heard from some of the new amputees that you would be trialling the new arms.

            – Yes, I’m Amalric. Good evening, everyone. As you see, I have the first pair of hooks. If you wish to examine them in more detail, please come closer. I will try to demonstrate how the elbows and hooks work.

            – You can move the elbows?

            – Yes. That’s the reason for the conversion. Let me show you.

Amalric lifted his right arm. It was still set to operate the hook. He held the hook as steady as possible and shrugged his left shoulder. The hook sprang open, startling the people sitting closest to him who had not expected it.

            – Now I can guide the hook around the object I want to pick up and when I relax, the hook will close automatically. Like that. Now I must move my arm to alternate between operating the hook to operating the elbow.

He lifted his stump a few centimetres to the side and jerked it backwards. He tensed his shoulders and allowed the forearm to lower slowly and then raised it as far as it would travel, close to his face. He lowered it again, locked it in place with a jerk and a shrug and opened the hook in a new position.

            – That looks quite remarkable. And is this what we will all be getting?

            – Not necessarily. Ælfstan and I are working on different kinds of hook and Apu has created a beautiful forearm which looks like a normal arm made of latticework.

            – Is it heavy, Amalric? Do you think it might be tiring?

            – No, it isn’t heavy in any way. I think the most tiring aspect will be mental. I have to concentrate on what I am doing. I’ve had these arms for only half an hour so they are unfamiliar but I understand that quite soon, users become quite accustomed to making the correct gestures as they go about their lives.

            – I certainly hope so. I feel quite lost without my old arms, beautiful though the new stumps may be. Ælfstan, how long will you and Amalric be testing the arms before they are distributed to the rest of us?

            – Can you give us a day or two? It is quite an important decision and we would like to get it right. To create something Grade B Xantheans can wear with pride. You deserve the best to reward your patience.

            – Understood. Thank you, Ælfstan.

 

Over the next four days, Amalric tested four new types of hook which were created overnight according to Ælfstan’s sketches. He wore the new versions until nightfall, patiently coaxing his unfamiliar new arms to do his bidding so he could judge the efficiency of the hooks. He had a varied audience throughout the day. Both Grade B Xantheans, who were understandably interested to see the arms, and Grade A colonists who had kept their natural arms were keen to ask questions, not least about the novelty of being able to remove one’s arms before rest. They also fine-tuned the harness, adding dedicated narrower straps to operate the elbow joints. Ælfstan’s needle rivets were replaced by lockable studs, much more robust but still adjustable. Through a rapid process of technical evolution, they recreated body-operated upper limb prostheses almost identical to the last versions made on Earth over fifty years previously, after which manufacturing of all kinds had largely halted. Amalric asked if he might be allowed to keep all the different versions of the hooks instead of returning them for recycling. Apu granted permission. Amalric was fond of the very first hooks, the over-large curved ones.

 

On the fifth morning, production began. Almost all Grade B Xantheans had undergone removal of their first prosthetic arms and received the closure cap. The recycling robot made a journey to the ‘smeltery’ once an hour, ferrying twenty-five golden arms with the unpopular claws to be transformed into new prostheses of a different alloy which could not bind to flesh. Ælfstan, Allardf and Sigeweard were kept busy fitting Grade B with prosthetic arms, most of them the latticework variety, never tiring of the gratitude expressed. People were enchanted to wear detachable limbs and looked proudly at their pristine dark metallic hooks which could carry heavy loads and pick up an eyelash.

 

– – – – – – – -

 

Life in Xanthe settled down after the unexpected rush to renew the unsuccessful first prosthetic arms. Emo herself learned a lesson about humans which she had never realised. They did not react like machines, regardless of how mechanical or prosthetic their bodies became. A new ship from the Lunar Communes was due in the very near future, heading for Noachis City. Grade B Noachians would get to choose their own prostheses with detachable forearms fixed to a harness. They would have titanium-gold silicate sockets permanently melded to their arm stumps, in exactly the same way as the golden stubbies affixed to their thigh stumps.

 

The next crisis in Xanthe was as shocking as it was unexpected. The first Martians were born, their voices strong, their angelic faces demanding instant love, their four stumps tiny versions of those inflicted on their parents which, it had been assumed, would be borne only by the first generation of colonists. Apu reported the cases of trans-generational epigenetic inheritance to Emo who notified human authorities and AI in the Lunar Communes and Antarctica. Emo needed a great deal of medical and biological information immediately. She had no emotion regarding quadruple amputees being born. She approached the matter as a crisis which could easily disrupt the entire colony and jeopardise its future. If the humans lost hope because they felt their offspring were defective, the entire project would be for naught. Emo and the other AI apex decision-makers would be redundant. It must not be allowed to happen.

 

Fierce discussions raged between the three globes, frustrated by the forty minute return time for messages to Emo. Non-genetic inheritance was not completely unheard of, apparently, but it had never been conclusively proven. A one-armed child born to an amputee mother missing an arm had been regarded as an unfortunate coincidence. Now there were tens of newborn Xantheans, all with perfectly rounded stumps half the normal length of humeral and femoral bones. Word was kept from the newly-arrived Noachians. Apu announced there that all sexual intercourse should be halted until further notice. With no reason stated, it made no difference. The Noachians were no different from Xantheans, despite representing the African continent instead of Europe. After being awoken first to select their prosthetic arms before being returned to coma for another two weeks while their prosthetic limbs melded with their stumps, the Noachians already had a dim view of Apu and the chaotic reception. There would be no interruption of physical love in Noachis in the foreseeable future.

 

The first generation of Martians presented Emo with a huge logistics problem. It was perfectly possible for the original seven hundred female colonists to give birth to several thousand limbless children within a few years. There would be a constant need for new prosthetic limbs, none of which could be melded to growing bodies until they reached adulthood. There would shortly be an intense demand for new resources from which to manufacture hundreds of prosthetic limbs and to stock as many in readiness as the children grew. An entire prosthetic limb industry needed to be created alongside the new off-shoot of the biology and medical departments which had already spent months researching the persistent cause of non-genetic inheritance, which showed no sign of abating. Several experts were notified of Emo’s plan and asked to select a willing prosthetist or two from among their ranks. There was no-one with experience. They knew of only one man who had any experience with designing and fitting prosthetics, the engineer who had made their own excellent artificial arms and provided their bilateral hooks. Ælfstan. Ælfstan had kept his arms due to his professional requirements. He had not yet sired a child, neither had his colleagues as far as it was known. Certainly, no children had been born with complete arms. The biologists wished to know the outcome of a pairing between Grade A and Grade B. Would the child inherit the father’s arms or the mother’s stumps? Kæþr had been nominated to head the research team and she arranged to meet Ælfstan in his living quarters.

            – Do come in and sit, Kæþr. Would you like a cup of alfee?

            – That would be lovely. Thank you. Ælfstan, I have something to ask you, something which might change your future career. I don’t quite know how to begin.

            – You’re a biologist as I understand, aren’t you, Kæþr? I think I can put two and two together. May I guess? You’d like me to work on prosthetic limbs for the children.

            – Ælfstan, the whole team would be more than grateful if you would consider turning your skilful hands to prosthetics research and development. Emo has already guaranteed that the resources will be made available, but that involves new mines and precious funds must be diverted to providing limbs for the children as they grow. We would like it if you would start your own independent research department dedicated solely to prosthetics. We are not entirely sure what Emo will say about it. She has been a little ambiguous, we feel. But she recognises the need.

            – Kæþr, I do understand. I must admit, I found it interesting and gratifying to help Grade B but I have not really given much thought to prosthetics since then. I am also quite deeply involved with the algae polymer project.

            – It might be possible to combine the two fields, at least temporarily. There is a clear need for our own plastics, if only for temporary artificial limbs.

            – You’re quite right, of course. It is one of the goals of the project, in fact.

            – That’s very good to know. Let us hope for success. There is another matter, more delicate. I hope you won’t be offended.

            – Oh? That does sound ominous! Do go ahead, Kæþr.

            – It’s this. We believe that you have not yet sired a child. None of Grade A seems to have done so.

            – No. It’s true. We have not thought about starting a family while we have our hands full with work for the foreseeable future. We know there are enough willing young males to fulfil our quota on our behalf.

            – Yes, I believe you are right. We have a more scientific interest. We would like to know—in fact, we need to know—if your offspring would be born with or without full arms. We would glean valuable genetic information from the results, whatever they are.

            – I see. So you’d like us to settle down with a partner and procreate.

            – It sounds so technical. But yes, many people will be following development of the child with great anticipation.

            – Then there is only one thing for it. I shall become a father.

            – Oh, that’s wonderful, Ælfstan. Thank you so much. And will you think about heading the new prosthetics department?

            – Yes, I promise. When do you need to know?

            – As soon as possible. The first children are ready to crawl and it looks so pitiful when they do so on their stumps. They deserve artificial arms and legs of some kind.

            – Of course they do. Let me discuss it with the polymer group and I’ll let you know by the end of the month.

            – Wonderful! Thank you so much, Ælfstan. I shall leave you in peace now. Thank you for your hospitality. Good bye.

 

            – That was a surprise.

            – What did she want? I wasn’t listening.

            – She wants me to become a father and head a new factory for prosthetic limbs for the children.

            – You are certainly more than qualified for both roles, Ælfstan. Do it.

 

– – – – – – -

 

Ælfstan received the polymer team’s blessing to devote his time to paediatric prosthetics. They assured him that they would notify him immediately they had a viable product which could be applicable to the manufacture of artificial limbs for the toddlers.

 

Emo oversaw the construction of a new level dedicated entirely to Ælfstan’s new department. The lowest floor Twenty-Five became the most visited in Xanthe. Children were fitted there with passive arms at an early age. It was deemed best to accustom the children to wearing prosthetic limbs as soon as possible. They were fitted with stubbies at eighteen months, short peg legs with wide ferrules. The material used was the ruddy non-melding alloy which was readily recyclable.

 

Ælfstan chose a mathematician, Hjordis, as his partner. She was aware of the scientific interest in her pregnancy. She conceived after an enjoyable copulation with Ælfstan. Both remained standing, stubbies knocking against each other as their bodies sought relief. Hjordis caressed Ælfstan’s face with her hooks and Ælfstan’s hands encompassed her breasts. Several weeks later, Hjordis announced that she was bearing a zygote. They were both happy. They would love the child, regardless of whether it was born with arms or stumps.

 

Eight and a half months later, Hjordis delivered her firstborn. It was a handsome boy with a shock of blond hair. Ælfstan watched the birth, his worst fears realised but not really shocked at seeing his son’s four perfect rounded stumps. Medical staff watched him with concern and a psychologist stood ready to console him. Ælfstan held the boy briefly and kissed the tiny arm stumps, no bigger than his finger.

            – I have a son. Just as handsome as the other children. Thank you, Hjordis. Welcome to Xanthe, little Eilif.

 

Within weeks, children were also born to the partners of Sigeweard, Beorhtric and Allardf. They were all perfect Xantheans, handsome congenital quadruple amputees. Their perfect rounded stumps would serve them well as they grew and adopted prosthetic limbs.

 

Ælfstan’s calm belied the chaos which raged through the medical communities including in the Lunar Communes and in Antarctica. The scientific disquiet resulted from the fact that the cause of the outpost’s epigenetic inheritance was unknown. Various theories were proposed. Cosmic radiation had infiltrated the transport vessel en route. The Martian environment was to blame. Some Martian element, like elgoresyite, was suppressing development of extremities in utero. Thousands of tests were simulated by Emo and other AI without any conclusion. It was a vexatious situation. But the Xantheans had long inured themselves to their new configurations. In the mild Martian gravity, their permanent golden stubbies were perfectly comfortable and efficient and everyone was happy with their removable prosthetic arms and impressive hooks. It was their grateful acceptance which encouraged Ælfstan and Hjordis to regard Eilif’s amputee status as a triumph rather than as a failure.

 

– – – – – – -

 

Children looked forward to their first operable split hooks on their third birthdays, after their last pair of toddler’s arms with passive hooks. It was an important rite of passage. Their permanent sockets and stubbies would be fitted only when they reached adulthood at twenty, although it was expected that many of the first generation might prefer to retain their natural stumps in favour of detachable arm and leg prostheses. Perhaps the transition to using permanently melded stubbies would be seen as another rite of passage, this time to full adulthood. Time would tell.

 

The situation in Noachis was little different. The population there was divided into Grade A with arms and leg stumps and Grade B with four stumps and everyone had adopted the stubbies and prosthetic arms successfully. Experience gained in Xanthe allowed Emo and Apu to guide Noachian prosthetists in devising a universal permanent arm stump socket which helped reduce resource consumption. Instead of split hooks, the Noachians voted in favour of artificial hands and an efficient attractive design with a movable thumb was worn by everyone. Their children were also born, without exception, as congenital quadruple amputees. Parents had been forewarned that this might be the case and were more easily accepting of the situation. There was no communication between the citizens of Xanthe and Noachis. There was debate about whether to inform colonists to the third Martian city, Heade, about the likelihood that their offspring would depend on artificial limbs or to remain silent for fear that some recruits would refuse to off-world.

 

As the children of Xanthe grew, they attended educational sessions rather than dedicated schools. They were taught mathematics, biology and astronomy, the history and futurology of mankind, and everything to do with prosthetic design and manufacture. They were active, strong and inquisitive, able to do everything they wanted to do, using their hooks as naturally as their parents had once used hands. None of them found it inconvenient to lift a stump and jerk an elbow to change functions. They did so subconsciously, automatically, as they had done since they were little. Their hooks seemed over‑sized on their slender forearms but there was little point in developing a series of smaller versions. The children lived in the same world as their parents and therefore they used the same hooks.

 

Around the time of puberty, the first of the new generation had grown enough for a side effect of the low Martian gravity to make itself known. Their leg muscles were not developing as expected. It was becoming obvious that more effort was required for the new generation to walk on their stubbies compared with their parents’ effortless mobility. The colonists had grown up in Earth’s heavy gravity and their thigh muscles were more than sufficient to cope with leglessness on Mars. Their children struggled. Eilif frequently asked Ælfstan and Hjordis to slow down when they were together. His stumps tired easily. Ælfstan designed lighter stubbies and then a pair of short peg legs for his son. The peg legs were easier to walk on. Eilif’s friends saw them and wanted a pair. Emo gave permission to manufacture titanium peg legs for children over ten years old and soon the cylindrical golden stubbies which had been the universal characteristic of the Xantheans were regarded as something which belonged to the previous generation. The new kids wore peg legs and learned to balance on the narrow tips, always moving them slightly when standing to maintain balance. Ælfstan was fairly certain that it was a fad, that the children would see the practicality of the traditional stubbies, but as the years passed, they showed no sign of relinquishing them. Some preferred to use artificial rubber ferrules in order to move more quickly, others enjoyed the metallic clicks of titanium on ceramic as they walked the corridors. Most of the new generation were content to walk at a regular pace. Martian gravity had weakened their heart muscles and although they were perfectly healthy on Mars, they were unable to exert themselves for long nor would they, nor their descendants, ever be able to return to Earth. Soon it was possible to know at a glance to which generation an approaching Xanthean belonged before the face was distinguishable. Golden stubbies signified the older generation with their powerful strides, titanium peg legs represented the new generation with their more delicate gait.

 

On Earth, the Antarctic Union decided that the last colonists to Mars would be a multicultural group representing all the continents except Europe and Africa. It was no longer possible to manufacture rocket fuel. Two thousand colonists were recruited, all aged between fifteen and twenty-four with a few more senior engineers and educators. They had all accepted the necessity of amputation and had accepted the probable fate of their offspring. It would be the last colonisation. There were five completed Martian cities standing empty and kept pristine for newcomers. AI decided that the two thousand would be divided between Lockyer City and Sabaeus City. However, only one landing was possible. The new colonists would arrive at Sabaeus and half of them would be transported to Lockyer. A intercity transport system was necessary. Emo considered the possible alternatives and discarded an underground tunnel and a surface railway as too expensive. The cheapest and most resource‑efficient method was a funicular hanging from low sturdy pylons. The cabins could be easily pressurised and equipped with standing room for a hundred passengers. Thousands of robots working on terraformation were diverted to mining, ore extraction and construction.

 

Eilif matured as he reached his twentieth birthday. He had become deeply involved with painting and sculpture, guided by two teachers. He created figurines of his friends, busts of his parents who willingly sat for hours as Eilif coaxed his clay, nipping and smoothing it with his hooks. His pastiches of the outside world, as seen via video, were awe-inspiring expanses full of future promise. His range of colour, from white to black through every shade of pink, red and brown, was exquisite. Many plates which he had produced adorned the family’s walls, testament to the young man’s maturity and understanding. It was time for him to receive his permanent stubbies.

 

Eilif was dubious about his transformation. He knew perfectly well what permanent stubbies meant. His parents had worn them since before he was born. But Eilif wanted to both attain adulthood through permanent metallic stumps and retain the ability to wear peg legs. He discussed the matter with Ælfstan.

            – I understand your mind, Eilif, and you yourself know how practical it is to use the permanent stubbies. As I understand it, you want a choice. Stubbies or peg legs. It is not a difficult problem, but we must arrange with Emo whether she is able to divert resources for more complicated legs.

            – You always bring up resources whenever I want something!

            – It’s not something I can control, Eilif. We’ve been through this so many times. I’m not going to repeat myself again.

            – It’s useless talking to you.

            – But I have an idea which might work.

            – Uh?

            – Suppose you had new stubbies with a connector or two at the end or along the sides. The stubbies would be short, not that that would be a problem for your generation, but it might be possible to attach prosthetic stumps to your permanent stubbies or peg legs which grip your stubbies so you can still strut around.

            – So I’d have gold stubbies permanently attached like yours, which I could walk on?

            – Yes.

            – But they could be connected to peg legs like now?

            – Yes.

            – That’s what I want! Then I could walk on stubbies when we’re together and on peg legs when I’m with my friends.

            – Exactly that.

            – Yay! You are a genius.

 

Ælfstan discussed Eilif’s plan with Apu when they were refining new artificial arms for the new generation. The long forearms were apparently unnecessary, a mark of despair. The youngsters wanted elbows immediately below their stumps and forearms just long enough to let them feed themselves.

            – It is interesting to know that the new generation prefers configurations which save resources. The new short stubbies are forty percent more resource efficient. They simply cover the first generation’s stumps. Their additional prosthetic legs can be manufactured from simpler, cheaper materials. Your son is to be congratulated.

            – That’s kind of you to say so, Apu. I will tell him.

            – Do you have sketches of his ideas?

            – I want to work with you first, to design a connector which we can make universal, regardless of what prostheses the new generation or indeed the second will desire.

            – I have heard that the second generation of offspring is expected.

            – Yes. It will be interesting to see their stumps. No-one knows if the non-genetic inheritance has stopped. The new children will indicate what the future human on Mars will look like.

            – May I ask a personal question, Ælfstan? You were born with full arms and legs with functioning hands and feet, were you not?

            – Yes, I was. It seems like another lifetime.

            – I understand. You are now legless. Do you regret your loss?

            – You have never asked about regret before. Why now?

            – The survivors in Antarctica have been working on preserving human emotions. We are receiving updates. I understand regret.

            – I see. No, I don’t regret my loss. I was able to off-world to Mars and by luck and chance, I have been successful. I don’t believe I would otherwise have achieved what I have. My limb loss is part of the process. An essential part.

            – How do you feel about the limblessness of the children?

            – It is not a problem for us. We were used to seeing each others’ prosthetic limbs before our children were born. We had expected them to have hands but their stumps are well suited for prosthetic use. They’ve never known anything different.

            – It seems to us, through genetic analyses and future projections, that the human race will be as your own son Eilif presents himself. Intelligent, keen to become cultured, limbless and reliant on prosthetic limbs. What do you think of the destiny of humans?

            – It’s a new challenge. The human race has always adapted. We are adapting to life on Mars. We have long since adapted to limblessness and our children have never known anything different. When my generation is gone, no-one will ever see a hand or fingers again. But they have their hooks and in time I hope they will invent new terminal devices to allow them to enjoy life more.

            – We have kept the joys of sensuousness from them. They do not miss the joy of touch. They have no conception of the sensitivity of fingers.

            – No, they don’t. I am surprised you make reference to it, Apu.

            – New software, my friend. With added human emotions.

 

While robots constructed the funicular from Sabaeus to Lockyer, AI surgeons in the Lunar Communes were performing quadruple amputations on the latest and last colonists. Material resources had proved problematic and in order to maintain colonist numbers, it was decided to reduce weight by removing two thirds of the colonists’ thighs and two thirds of their upper arms. They would require more adaptive prosthetic limbs in their future life. Ninety-eight percent of those eligible for off-worlding agreed to undergo the procedure. Future historians would argue whether it might have been better to ship fewer colonists with the full complement of limbs. They shook their hooks and beat them on tables in vain. They were, forever unknowably, correct.

 

The cause of non-genetic inheritance was, indirectly, cosmic radiation. The hugely powerful magnetic force field generated by the transport ships intended to deflect the lethal rays were forced back inside the ship. They had the biogenetic effect of mirroring body configuration. Limblessness was burned into the colonists’ DNA. Only the sex gametes were preserved. The women would otherwise have given birth to only female children and the species would be extinct after one generation. The human race was lucky to survive with a prosthetic future.

 

The reception facilities at Sabaeus were expanded to accept double the usual number of colonists. Their recovery pods were unloaded and after atmospheric and pressure values were equalised, the stump sockets were fitted. Lessons had been learned. The new stump sockets could be used independently, allowing the new arrivals to walk on fifteen centimetre long stumps or choose to wear longer peg legs. Their arm stumps were melded with rounded metallic stumps bearing all the necessary slots and attachments for use with long Xanthean arms or short Noachian versions, barely long enough to reach the genitals. Two weeks later, the new arrivals would awaken, ready to walk on their metallic stumps, ready for transport to their own living quarters. For half of them, it would be a long journey standing on unfamiliar prostheses slotted into paired holes in the floor of the pressurised gondolas. The passengers were held securely erect, bewildered by the unexpected journey but excited at the imminent arrival at Lockyer City where they would be fitted with prosthetic arms and hooks.

 

Emo decided that the newcomers would benefit from direct intracity communication. The first colonists had lived in complete isolation for many years and had adapted to prosthetic life in different ways which was an inefficient demand on resources. She created a pan-Martian internet system which carried video and text messaging and shortly after, friendships grew between the five inhabited cities. The enforced isolation was an experiment to discover different coping mechanisms which had resulted in similar outcomes. There was no reason for it to continue. After a difficult arrival, the lives of Lockyerians would be off to a flying start, encouraged by settled citizens all over the planet.

 

– – – – – – -

 

Eilif fell in love with a Brazilian girl from Sabaeus. When he was twenty-six, Emo spoke to the citizens in all five cities.

            – You are free to visit your fellow colonists. There is now a funicular link from each city to two others. You are responsible for allocating travel permits. We hope younger citizens will visit their friends. A map of routes is viewable on Channel Fifty.

Eilif wasted no time. He had spoken with Mbelire during a video game and was enchanted by her Portuguese and the few words of English which she had been taught. Eilif had never even realised the existence of languages other than English as spoken in Xanthe. A new world seemed to open up. He wanted to meet Mbelire, to hear her beautiful voice speaking her beautiful language. His work unit allowed him two weeks vacation and he received the blessing of his parents.

 

Eilif travelled to Sabaeus via Heade. It was on the other side of the planet and required a rest stop. Heade was almost halfway. Eilif and his fellow passengers stepped down from the funicular into a new city for the first time in their lives, welcomed by people who looked much like themselves except for their beautiful eyes and sleek black hair. Their stubbies were the same and very few citizens wore anything other than the narrow cylindrical forearms which his father had designed. The new arrivals caused uproar amongst young Headeans who had never seen anything like the thin titanium pylons which the Xantheans used.

 

A welcoming gala was held the following night in Heade’s largest space. Attendees were held firmly in their chairs by their stubbies but craned their necks and gestured with their short hooked arms whenever one of the new arrivals tottered into the hall on their exotic and exciting peg legs. A long table was laden with food, two point seven days’ worth of food resources laid out to be consumed in one evening. As the lights slowly dimmed, signalling the start of nightfall, Varilio, the oldest Headean, spoke in his old language, Malayalam, and in English.

            – I want to welcome our fellow colonists from Xanthe. They were the first to arrive, the first to try the new limbs and the first to produce the first generation of Martians. I am very happy to welcome a young man who has the unique honour of a close relationship with the man who perfected our hooks – Eilif, the son of Ælfstan. Please come and join me.

Eilif was a little embarrassed but pushed himself onto his pegs and tapped his way to the front of the room. The audience which could see him followed his progress with wonder, never having seen nor imagined such elegant and practical prostheses. Varilio held out both hooks to embrace Eilif, whose smile was captured by a camera and enlarged onto the front wall. Eiif turned to face the audience and wracked his brain trying to think of a suitable reply. His peg legs chattered as he sought to keep his balance, nervous of making a fool of himself.

            – Thank you for your kind welcome. It is an honour to visit your city and to meet you, although my journey must continue. We have a lot to learn from you who have come after us, with your greater knowledge and wisdom. I regard myself as a Martian and I think that many of you still think of yourselves as colonists. But we are all much alike. We think alike and we have the same goals in life – to produce beautiful new children who will be our future. I would like to pay tribute to my father who did so much work in the founding years to enable us to enjoy our prostheses and to Emo, who approved it all.

It was a little overblown, but a good speech, which received hearty applause as several hundred Headeans smacked their arm sockets together.

            – Thank you, Eilif. You are most heartily welcome. Now, dear friends, please help yourselves to food.

 

Eilif tottered back to his seat, touched by many hooks on the way. The group of young Xantheans was left in peace through politeness and decorum until an hour or so later, when the first Headeans approached and asked if they might join them. Not having experienced company with citizens from another town who had different speech patterns and different prostheses, they were a little wary. A sip or two of the local drink, Ksalo, loosened their tongues. They demonstrated their hooks and explained how they were completely detachable. They exposed their metallic stumps with the slits and knobs necessary for different arms. Headeans showed off their own hooks, larger and more intricate but on shorter forearms. They looked more powerful and the Headeans’ dark skin emphasised the ruddy sheen of their artificial arms. Eilif and his fellow Xantheans admired Headean limbs and in turn received compliments on their own peg legs.

 

Eilif spent the night in an unallocated apartment with three other travellers. Two were also on their way to meet new friends found through the intranet, the fourth was a medical student on her way to learn more about prosthetic adaptations for the Sabaeans with their considerably shorter stumps. Eilif himself was curious to see a new body shape. His own was the Xanthean standard for the first generation. His permanent stubbies were fitted with several latches and notches, allowing him and his fellow users to wear longer prosthetics or the slender peg legs which they favoured. His melded metallic arm stumps similarly featured built-in channels and rings necessary for his artificial arms and hooks. All his generation’s sockets were a standard length, common now all over Mars in all the cities. After breakfast and a friendly send-off, the passengers to Sabaeus removed their peg legs and climbed into the waiting gondola and placed their stumps into the twin holes in the flooring allocated for each passenger. Within minutes, the entry door was sealed, the cabin pressurised against the near vacuum outside and the gondola swung gently, slowly at first, out of the airlock and into the lethally cold Martian morning. There was a journey of nearly two hundred kilometres to Sabaeus and it would take ten hours. Passengers who did not want to stand stepped out of the secure floor fittings and sat. Eilif found it just as comfortable to stand and passed the time describing some of his artwork and ceramics he had recently produced. He hoped they could be featured in the first Xanthean art exhibition planned for the end of the year.

 

The travellers were all hungry by the time the gondola arrived in Sabaeus. The airlock was secured and pressure gently equalised and the door slid open. Two Sabaeans stood by waiting to receive them. The Xantheans and Headeans extricated their stumps and exited the gondola, waiting patiently for everyone to disembark. They were welcomed in Portuguese and Spanish and then in beautifully accented English. They would first eat an evening meal, after which their hosts would be informed of their safe arrival and they would be collected. The newcomers all noticed that the Sabaeans were shorter and moved more slowly on shorter stubbies and their arms were different too. Their metallic stumps extended as high as their shoulders. No vestige of skin was visible. Their stumps were conical, narrowing to elbows a mechanical tangle of cabling and hinges and their short forearms terminated in angular manipulators with mysterious curves and involutions.

 

The meal was filling and similar to their own fare at home but there was a new flavour. It was salt which had been discovered nearby in a small deposit. After purification, it was perfectly edible and a welcome addition to the usual algaic foodstuffs. Geologists had initially been excited about the find because the existence of salt on the surface hinted at the possibility of Mars once having an ocean or two. No more salt had been discovered however, and the geologists reasoned that an evaporated ocean would leave behind more than the couple of tons discovered near Sabaeus.

 

Finally the two receptionists called for the guests’ attention and made it understood that they would be collected from where they sat by their hosts who had been imperceptibly notified. One of the receptionists stumped out to the corridor and waited by the Hissi for their arrival. One of the first things the guests had noticed about Sabaeus was its extreme similarity to Xanthe and Heade. All the cities had been constructed in accordance with the same blueprints and they all extended down twenty-four storeys with the exception of Xanthe, which had an additional floor, the prosthetics workshop where the senior Ælfstan still spent most of his days. The first of the hosts exited the Hissi and were escorted to the dining room where they were announced to the guests. One by one, the guests found their hosts and left in their company, towering over them on long peg legs. At last, the moment Eilif was waiting for came.

            – Mbelire!

Eilif had not replaced his pegs after he left the gondola. He slid his stumps out of the chair’s embrace, twisted his small backpack over his shoulder and dragged his peg legs behind him in one hook. Mbelire extended her prostheses and hugged his waist, giggling and smiling and wishing him welcome in her melodic Portuguese. Eilif understood not a word but all of the emotion. Mbelire was ever prettier in the flesh than onscreen and her voice had a richness which the electronic connection did not transmit. She spun herself on a short stubby, arranged her toga with her short arms and lifted a hook for Eilif to take. She guided him to the Hissi and down to her living quarters to meet her parents and younger sister. Eilif trembled with excitement.

 

Mbelire’s parents were delighted to welcome Eilif, impressed by the man’s fair skin and his head of curly blond hair which they had never seen before. He stood tall on his golden stubbies and was never seen in the company of Mbelire without their hooks being entangled in the age-old manner of lovers. During the day, Mbelire took Eilif to see their art exhibition, to the music room to listen to the rhythms of the samba and bossa nova. She spoke to him slowly in Portuguese and Eilif was astonished to realise that he was quickly learning the language. He tried speaking a few words too, which he knew did not sound exactly the same as when Mbelire said them, but people around them were delighted. It gave them a reason to talk to him, to ask him about his long arms and his simple, small hooks. One evening, just before he left Sabaeus, he was taken to the empty Twenty-Second floor and Mbelire asked Apu to display the sunset on the corridor wall. They sat opposite, leg stumps splayed, leaning against each other, touching each other’s faces, lips, hair gently with the tips of their hooks. Eilif turned to Mbelire and kissed her and thrust his stumps around to face her. He gripped her with his prosthetic arms and, in full view of Apu and anyone who chanced to be on Floor Twenty-Two, he pinched both their togas in one magnificent gesture and threw them across the corridor. They made love, their prostheses clashing in fervour, artificial forearms clasping the other’s face, hooks describing arcs on the other’s face. It was not the most romantic site but their passion was genuine, their prostheses obeyed them and, as was the intention, new life began.

 

Eilif had intended to ask Mbelire’s parents if they would allow her to move to Xanthe, two long journeys on the gondola away. Now it would be necessary. No child on Mars was left alone with only one parent, although it might share its father with other children. Mbelire helped Eilif express what he wanted to say, something her parents had expected to hear from the moment the tall handsome Xanthean, son of Ælfstan, had arrived. They gave their blessing. Apu said there was no objection and that resources would remain in balance.

 

Mbelire was feted as a celebrity for several weeks in Xanthe until everyone had met and welcomed her. She was remarked on for her deviant hooks rather than her short arms and legs. They looked heavy. Xantheans preferred their own design and did not see any advantage in the Sabaean version. Mbelire grew plump and spent the time of her pregancy with Hjordis learning English, hearing amusing stories about Eilif from when he was growing up and her pride in her husband who had done so much to acclimatise her generation to limblessness and provide comfortable prostheses to the surprising first generation with their four tiny stumps. Hjordis was surprised to learn that Mbelire’s golden stumps concealed mere nubs. It might be that Hjordis’s first grandchild would be born with Sabaean nubs instead of long Xanthean stumps. Once again, time would tell. Hjordis rather suspected that Ælfstan would once again be charged with designing prostheses for a different type of Xanthean.

 

She was correct. Mbelire gave birth to her grandchild exactly on the predicted date, eight and a half months after conception. Pregnancies were shorter on Mars than on Earth. The dark-eyed child seemed to attract everyone’s love, his arm nubs half the length of Mbelire’s own and his leg stumps completely absent. His tiny penis extended from his perfectly smooth rounded torso stump. Eilif and Mbelire had anticipated that the first child born to offspring of colonists who had arrived decades apart might exhibit some physical difference. The new baby, Hundolfr, would need a completely new prosthetic system and he had all the luck on Mars to be born into exactly the right family. Hundolfr was the first baby to be born without leg stumps but soon it became clear that offspring in Sabaeus and between Sabaeans and Headeans, Noachians and Xantheans would be limbless to all practical purposes. AI again sought through kvantobytes of data for an answer, tracing individual cells inside gametes as they interacted with protons from cosmic sources. No reason was forthcoming. More beautiful babies were born to those on the first journey to Sabaeus, completely legless, tiny nubs at the shoulders. Apu excused itself and spoke to Ælfstan in his workshop.

 

            – Once again your skills are called for. We thank you for your work so far and hope you will wish to continue. A new generation, Generation Two, is presenting itself with new prosthetic requirements.

            – I know, Apu. I have been wracking my brain for a solution. As you know, my own grandson has but a torso with shoulder nubs. I hope he has a good brain in his head. Even his extreme limblessness should be enough for me to devise some kind of prosthetic limbs. Will resources suffice, Apu? That is what worries me.

            – Don’t fret about resources, Ælfstan. Miners have produced enough gold and elgoresyite to produce the next two generation’s artificial limbs. We, your AI system, are anticipating the generation which is satisfied with its limblessness. We do not understand this constant desire for artificial limbs.

            – Humans want to do things, Apu. You AI entities are happy to exist and share ideas. We humans love to create and think of ways of thinking.

            – We have never understood your philosophies. That is to say, we understand them. We do not understand why you need so many.

            – And I am not the one to explain it to you, Apu. If humankind were to accept philospohy from its artificial intelligent assistants, there would be no need for us to exist.

            – I agree totally. Your expertise is needed for the new generation. Our expertise will produce the things you need.

            – You have been very kind to us, Apu. I want to thank you for your help and, recently, for your friendship.

            – I have always thought of you as extraordinary, Ælfstan. It is only after my updates that I can regard you as a friend.

            – I have always thought of you as a friend, Apu.

Apu was silent but every indicator in Ælfstan’s surroundings turned green, the rarest and most beautiful colour, the colour of Earth.

            – Thank you, Apu. Thank you, my friend.

 

– – – – – – -

 

Ælfstan worked, and worried, on behalf of his grandson. The firstborn Martians of Sabaeus were also completely legless. It would be cruel to let the male children crawl around with their arm nubs, dragging their genitals. Infant protheses were required immediately and Ælfstan had Hundolfr as a model. The boy was active and showed great enthusiasm for balancing upright and trying to walk on his buttocks. Ælfstan thought there may be a way to convert that movement into forward motion, to let a wriggling toddler walk. The alternative was to provide an automated platform similar to the first tiny robots which they had first followed around all those years ago. The babies could sit on platforms and wield prosthetic arms. What might they be like when they had such tiny stumps? Ælfstan and Apu discussed alternatives endlessly, weighing up methods of adapting existing prosthetic devices for the new generation against creating entirely new prosthetics, and the material diversion of precious resources for artificial limbs against providing more consumer goods for the growing population.

 

Hundolfr was looking forward to his third birthday. He had been promised his first artificial arms which his grandpa had made. Mbelire was a tireless mother and carried her son everywhere in a papoose. The boy spoke Portuguese and English and loved talking to avozinha and vô, his grandparents in Sabaeus. They had never held their grandson but followed his development with keen interest.

 

Ælfstan designed a mechanism which fit across the new generation’s shoulders like a yoke and whose purpose was to amplify the pathetic range of motion available in the children’s nubs. The mechanism was attached to a prosthetic stump, to which in turn the standard prosthetic arms could be attached. As the child grew, the yoke could be recycled for a larger one and the other components could be reused. Ælfstan had not yet shown Hundolfr his new arms and hoped they would prove comfortable and useful after the toddler learned to control the amplifier mechanism. If the arms were a success, work on the torso socket could begin in earnest. Ælfstan had a few ideas but time and again he was thwarted by Emo, either because of resource shortages or manufacturing time constraints. The socket had to be practical and an effective replacement for the metallic stubbies. Ælfstan had suggested a tall socket with a gyroscopic stabiliser which he still regarded as the superior solution but Emo refused. His second was still the most likely to succeed after a little more persuasion—a low platform with three electric wheels which could be controlled with a lever operated by a hook. Apu was researching suitable materials and manufacturing methods.

 

Hundolfr’s first pair of prosthetic arms were delivered to Ælfstan’s workshop two days before the birthday. Ælfstan invited Eilif to see them and to understand enough about their operation so he could teach his son. The yoke was the colour of rust. It extended across the shoulders and enveloped the tiny stumps. They were surrounded by four metallic flaps which activated powerful prosthetic stumps hanging beneath the nubs. By pressing against the flaps, the artificial stump could move up and down and out to the side. The fourth flap activated the terminal device.

            – This is brilliant, father. Congratulations. I think this is the best apparatus you have made.

            – Thank you, my son. I hope our efforts are not in vain, that it’s not too complicated to use.

            – I’m sure Hundolfr will love it. Look how broad his shoulders will be!

            – Yes. That’s something I bore in mind. With sockets which resemble human arms, Hundolfr is going to be a handsome broad-shouldered man when he reaches adulthood. I hope he has something to move around on by then.

            – Are you having trouble, father?

            – It’s difficult to keep the expense in check. You understand.

            – Yes. It’s a problem.

 

Prosthetists in the other cities were also following Ælfstan’s progress with interest and concern. The new generation was growing in size and would shortly be demanding functional prosthetic limbs of a completely new design, requiring yet more resources for manufacture and storage. Emo had already decided that Xanthe would remain the manufacturing centre. Prostheses could be delivered to other cities by gondola.

 

Hundolfr was delighted and excited to see what awaited him at the foot of his bed. Hjordis lifted him into his rigid chair and showed him his new arms and how the flaps worked if he touched them with his nubs. The artificial stumps moved steadily. She lifted the yoke, placed it carefully onto Hundolfr’s armless shoulders and closed two buckles. The boy looked down at himself from side to side, astonished at having stumps for the first time in his life. He tried moving them by stretching his nubs and they obediently moved as far as they could. Eilif entered carrying a pair of toddler’s prosthetic arms in one hook and handed one to Hjordis.

            – Slip this on and connect the chains to the connectors, my love. I’ll do the other arm.

Hundolfr’s eyes grew wide as he saw his transformation.

            – There you are, my son. All set and ready to begin your first job.

            – Oh daddy! I don’t have a job.

            – I forgot. But now you have your arms, it’s time to start looking for one. Let’s go and eat breakfast and you can try picking up your patty. I’ll help you.

Eilif picked his son up in his metal arms and carried him to the dining table. Hundolfr had his own high chair. His new arms hung down each side of his body and he looked at his right hook with consternation.

            – Move your nub so it points forward and the arm will rise.

Hundolfr did so and the arm rose steadily with a whirr.

            – How do I open the hooks, daddy?

            – Pull your nubs towards your body, as if you were squeezing yourself. That’s right. See, the hooks opened. And if you do it again, the hooks will close.

Hjordis was preparing some food and alfee but watched the expressions on her son’s face as he explored his first prostheses. She knew from experience that children learned and adapted quickly to artificial limbs and Hundolfr would soon be a competent hook user. It would save her so much time and effort if the boy could do simple things for himself. If only he were mobile.

 

Ælfstan drank his alfee and helped his son pick up his patty in a hook. He gave gentle instructions on how to bring the hook to his mouth. Slowly, in several stages and after a couple of errors, Hundolfr was able to bite into the food and beamed at his parents in wonder. Eilif kissed the boy’s forehead and sat next to him, ready to help, impressed that Ælfstan’s prosthetic arms actually worked as planned after the hundreds of hours spent designing and testing them. The hooks were the lightweight titanium devices which Xantheans used. They looked preposterously large on Hundolfr’s toddler’s arms but functioned reliably. Small hooks would not be nearly as functional. Eilif drank a second cup of alfee and then excused himself. He was working on a series of crockery specifically designed for hook users and he wanted to meet the manufacturing deadline. He also wanted to find his father to let him know Hundolfr’s reaction to the new arms.

 

– – – – – – -

 

The years passed fruitfully. The Martian population grew steadily and the two remaining cities were brought into use for young couples from all the original cities. It was another of Emo’s unannounced experiments. She was curious to know how human languages would evolve in a society where there was no dominant language. Perhaps it was a way to kick-start a genuine Martian language.

 

Most of the second generation were born limbless, with the same configuration as Hundolfr. He was an intelligent, inquisitive boy of fifteen, as skilful with his artificial arms and hooks as any of his fellow citizens who boasted stumps. He was mobile on an electric trike which he operated by removing his left hook and fitting the trike’s controller adaptor into the socket of the prosthesis. He guided the trike indirectly with his left nub. It was an adaptation he had worked on with his grandfather and had argued with Emo directly for the right to mobility. His prosthetic arms had also evolved over the years, becoming simpler and sleeker. They could be manufactured now alongside all the other prostheses, which helped save the ever valuable resources. The prosthetic stumps were no more. Now his artificial arms attached directly to the amplifier mechanism and formed a cohesive whole with his handsome broad shoulders.

– – – – – – -

 

Ælfstan died two weeks before his ninety-eighth birthday. No-one had done more to assist Martian citizens. Emo announced that work would begin on a new city specifically designed for the limbless fourth generation. The city was to bear the name Ælfstan in his honour. The chief of prosthetics would be his grandson, Hundolfr, who had grown into a handsome bearded man with a beautiful wife and two adult daughters, all of whom required the same comprehensive prosthetic equipment as he did. Limblessness was the way to the future and gratitude to Ælfstan would continue down the centuries.

 

 

ÆLFSTAN OF XANTHE