Mr. Spaceship

We're often told by those smarter than us how powerful the brain is. It's reaction time precedes thought, it's incredibly energy efficient, and it can still function properly despite some damage it may receive. The plasticity of the brain should be something that we all marvel at on a daily basis (though I'm often more concerned with lessening the guilt I feel from playing video games all day).  But are there limits to its adaptability? Yes, the brain can operate an annoying, bipedal body, but could it operate a ship built to explore the universe and with the same proficiency? In the short story Mr. Spaceship by Philip K. Dick, the human brain seems to adjust rather well to controlling  intergalactic spacecraft, but the problem it encounters instead is worth noting.

Mr. Spaceship

 The Story
This mildly unnerving story takes place in a future Earth that has been locked in a decades long war with an alien species. The enemy, also known as the Yuk, of which the reader doesn't learn much about, has a superior defense in living weaponry. Given that their weapons react to stimuli and behave accordingly, the mechanical weapons that humans employ are, at best, sub-par. This gives the protagonist Kramer a moment of insight. What if we also use biological weaponry?

Kramer realizes that the human brain has an incredibly fast reaction time and, if in control of a battleship, could give the aliens a run for their money. But who would volunteer? Essentially, the person would have to be willing to die. Despite the brain running the ship, it would be far from conscious, only being used as a reaction system. After some consideration, Kramer's team of associates decide that the best candidate would be Professor Thomas, the former teacher of Kramer and his ex-wife, Dolores.

Thomas, now on the verge of death, nearly immediately accepts the proposition but with a few minor tweaks unknown to Kramer. On the first test run of "Mr. Spaceship," Kramer and his associates find out that the minor tweaks required by Thomas have allowed him to maintain consciousness, and he now has full control of the ship.

Luckily, the powerless humans aboard Professor Thomas are left unharmed, for the only people of importance to the living ship now are Kramer and  Dolores. The former mentor reminds Kramer of an idea he once had as his professor, one that claimed warfare not to be an inherent part of human nature, but a habit instead. He theorized that warfare could be removed as a habit, starting with a small population that simply did not enjoy it. Kramer then realizes that he and his former lover have been kidnapped by the professor to start a new colony away from their brutally aggressive home world. The couple seems to appreciate Mr. Spaceship's gesture as it can help them repair their relationship.

The Uncanny Valley
Despite the fact that being stolen from one's home to start a new life on an uninhabited planet is a weird way of falling in love again, that isn't what disturbed me the most about this story. It was obviously Thomas, and only a small part of his new, freakishly powerful self. His creepy, broken speech that struggled to release fully formed thoughts threw him forcefully to the bottom of the uncanny valley. In the field of robotics, the uncanny valley is a theoretical space of human likeness. At one end exists those things that don't look human at all and at the other are those indistinguishable from ourselves.

In the uncanny valley lies those objects that are incredibly close in similarity, but lacking such a vital characteristic as to make them creepy. Zombies, for example, look just like us, except they're dead...and shouldn't be moving...or decaying...or eating people...

Professor Thomas, though not as frightening as a flesh-eating tax agent, was so unnerving because he didn't sound like he was the spaceship when he spoke, he sounded like he was trapped inside of it. I mean, just look at this dialogue:

"Darkness...Who's there? With you..."

Kramer. Everything so strange...

"I altered the wiring. Control. I was fairly certain..I wonder if I can do it. Try..."

Professor Thomas sounds like some purgatorial prisoner begging for help while trying to drag an unimaginably heavy ball and chain attached to his leg. He could easily pass for some creature communicating with a witch doctor from the Unformed Land. It sounds horrifying and I was a little more than uncomfortable trying to imagine the scene. Granted, his speech did become more natural with time, the single instance was enough to remember what he was: something not entirely human.

So, while a human brain might be able to navigate the stars with a bulkier body, natural communication with its fleshy counterparts could pose a range of problems, up to and including separation from the human race.

Until next time my fellow masters!