Chapter 38 (Infant 2): Whispered Words of Love

August 8, 2031, Rocket City, Liang Nation

Michael and Daphne’s son was named Vito, after Michael’s father. Time passed swiftly; today marked little Vito’s first birthday. Daphne had baked a cake herself, inscribing birthday wishes in the soft, sweet cream and drawing a red heart with strawberry jam—a symbol of love.

Michael had come home early, just for his son’s birthday. In his youth, he was remarkably handy, often tinkering in the garage with new inventions. Though his skills were less practiced now, his enthusiasm remained undiminished. He crafted a toy for his son: a large wooden ship model. The mast was made from a carbon fiber tube, and on the bow deck sat a peculiar honeycomb container holding several dehydrated corn kernels. Michael called this toy VESSEL, a word that means ship, vessel, and container.

As Michael entered, he heard Daphne joyfully coaxing little Vito, “Mama, mama.” Vito, nestled in his mother’s arms, raised his large head, his chubby face smiling, rosy cheeks puffing as his lips moved. To their delight, he uttered, “Mama, mama...”

Daphne was ecstatic, showering Vito with kisses. Michael joined them, expectantly encouraging his son, “Papa, papa, say papa.” Vito grinned, blinking his big eyes, as if holding something back, then called out again, “Mama.”

Michael felt a twinge of disappointment. He took Vito from Daphne, lifting him high above his head, then quickly lowering him to knee height, repeating the motion. Vito enjoyed it immensely, giggling loudly.

After playing with toys and eating cake, little Vito, exhausted from excitement, finally lay in his crib and drifted into sweet sleep.

His parents tiptoed out of the room, Michael quietly closing the door behind them.

Daphne asked, “How’s your brain-machine integration project going? Weren’t you planning an upgrade these days?”

“It’s going well enough, but progress is slow. Brain-machine integration seems to be hitting a bottleneck. Simply stacking hardware or accumulating experience data doesn’t seem to work,” Michael replied. “VESSEL pointed out that current computer architecture doesn’t match human thinking habits. My team and I haven’t figured it out yet.”

“Do you remember the big envelope Irene gave you? Captain Milov’s Maya notes? I have a feeling modern computing might draw inspiration from Mayan astronomy and mathematics,” Daphne said.

“When she gave it to me, Irene said Milov wanted it opened after fifty-two years. I think we should respect the author’s wishes. Luckily, only half a month remains.”

To better care for Vito, Daphne had taken extended leave from her project team at the National Space Agency. She promised Mr. E to finish the risk assessment report on Michael’s superluminal Mars transformation plan during her time at home. The T Plan Committee trusted Daphne largely because of her Mars Explosion Hypothesis.

“Daphne, it’s been over a year. Is your risk assessment report done? Can you tell me anything about it?” Michael asked.

Daphne grew serious. “No, I can’t. The report is independent from your project and must go directly to the T Plan Committee. I can’t disclose anything to you.”

In the slightly awkward silence, Daphne scooped a bit of cream from the cake with her finger and smeared it on Michael’s face. The two laughed and embraced, filling the small room with the warmth and sweetness of home.

Vito’s sudden cries startled them. Daphne sprang up as if on springs, rushing to his room, Michael close behind. Vito’s little legs kicked wildly, his body convulsing, and foamy saliva bubbled at his lips.

Daphne frantically picked Vito up. “What’s happening? Is he having a nightmare? Should we go to the hospital right now?”

Michael steadied himself, hurried to the bathroom, and returned with a cool, wet cloth. He folded it, warming it slightly in his hands, then gently placed it on Vito’s forehead. Daphne carefully wiped Vito’s mouth and soothed his back.

Gradually, Vito stopped crying, opened his eyes, muttered, and after a deep exhale, returned to normal.

“That scared me. Let’s go to the hospital,” Daphne urged.

Michael considered. “VESSEL has intelligent medical assistance. Let’s try it first, then go to the hospital.”

Daphne sat with Vito on her lap. Michael reduced VESSEL’s output power, adjusted the helmet size, and carefully placed it on Vito’s head. Whether out of curiosity or comfort in his mother’s arms, Vito did not fuss.

Michael positioned the external display in front of Daphne and moved behind her, both watching the screen intently.

The screen first showed Vito’s EEG. Michael and Daphne were puzzled: Vito was awake, so his brainwaves should be dominated by relatively high-frequency beta and alpha waves, not the 0.5–1 Hz delta waves appearing.

It was odd—brainwaves representing wakefulness, light sleep, and deep sleep appeared simultaneously. Daphne suddenly recalled that when the Aura probe approached the asteroid Spirit, the electromagnetic waves it received were similarly anomalous.

Michael activated VESSEL’s intelligent medical assistance. The diagnosis appeared: “No abnormal brain structure detected. Localized neuron density, suspected abnormal discharge, prone to intermittent complications such as epilepsy. Please visit a hospital for professional diagnosis.”

Daphne was stunned, collapsing against the chair. Michael gently supported her shoulder with one hand, tenderly stroking Vito with the other.

He softly reassured her, “We’ll go to the hospital, of course. But did you notice? Vito connects easily with VESSEL. You tried before and couldn’t. Maybe Vito is gifted?”

Daphne suddenly realized this, speculating, “Vito is your biological son; his genes and even much of his brain structure are similar to yours, making him more compatible with VESSEL, which you trained.”

Michael agreed, feeling the need for further tests. He had never tried connecting two people to VESSEL at once. He donned a second helmet, connecting himself to the external brain.

Father and son’s brainwaves blended into VESSEL. Michael cautiously increased the output power, while Daphne nervously monitored Vito’s reaction. The child remained calm, his tiny hand resting lightly in his mother’s elbow, seemingly content.

With the power set, Michael entered meditation. The cursor flashed on the screen, words flowing line by line before Daphne:

Speak softly love, hold me close, hearts entwined,
Semantic sensing, gentle tremors in tender moments.
In that world belonging to just us two,
Sharing an experience no one else can know.

The sun warms the vintage of time,
We become one, merging into the velvet night.
Speak softly love, only the sky can hear,
Entrust this life, promise a lifetime,
Our vow of love.
My life belongs to you, for
You speak softly love, and come to me.

Daphne recognized the lyrics instantly—they were from that classic film’s theme, “Speak Softly Love.”

She didn’t know, nor did she have time to wonder, whether these lyrics were echoes of Michael’s consciousness, Vito’s, or a fusion of both. Perhaps, as the song said, in that brain-machine world, only father and son existed. Their thoughts and feelings had merged through subtle, trembling sensors.

The successful connection between Vito and VESSEL brought no joy. Michael removed his helmet, facing Daphne. He knew their minds were focused on one thing: Vito’s illness.

“Epilepsy.”

&

A poem formed from lines of classics:

Movement leaves no trace, quietness flows through,
His thoughts and mine are one and the same.
How rare to see such beauty as yours,
Now I believe youth never fails the true-hearted.