“Each of the individual probes contains both an array of microscopic sensors to sample important health parameters and a fancy data system that first stores and then transmits the recorded information upon receipt of an enabling command from the scanner. In practice, I would expect to scan each of you and dump all your health telemetry once a day, but the recorders can handle data covering up to four days if necessary.” Nicole stopped and looked at the audience. “Are there any questions so far?” she asked.

“Yes,” said Richard Wakefield in the front row. “I see how this system gathers trillions of bits of data. But that’s the easy part. There’s no way you or any other human being could look at all that information. How does the data get synthesized or analyzed so that you can tell if anything irregular is happening?”

“You’d make a great straight man, Richard,” Nicole said with a smile. “That’s my next subject.” She held up a small, flat, thin object with a keyboard on it. “This is a standard programmable scanner that permits the monitored information to be sampled in many different ways. I can call for a full dump from any and!or all channels, or I can request transmission only of warning data…”

Nicole saw many confused looks in her audience. “I’d better back up and start this part of the explanation again,” she said. “Each measurement made by each instrument has an expected range — one that will vary of course from individual to individual — and a much wider tolerance range used to identify a true emergency. If a particular measurement only exceeds the expected range, it is entered in the warning file and that specific channel is marked with an alarm identifier. One of my options using the scanner is to read out only these warning lists. If an individual cosmonaut is feeling fine, my nor­mal procedure would be just to see if there are any entries in the warning buffer.”

“But if you have a measurement outside the tolerance range,” interjected Janos Tabori, who was the backup life science officer, “then watch out. The monitor turns on its emergency transmitter and uses all its internal power to send out a beep, beep noise that is frightening. I know, it happened to me during a short test with what turned out to be improper tolerance values. I thought I was dying.” His comment caused general laughter. The image of little Janos walking around emitting a high-pitched beep was amusing.

“No system is foolproof!” Nicole continued, “and this one is only as good as the set of values that are entered to trigger both the warnings and the emergencies. So you can see why calibration data is essential. We have ex­amined each of your medical histories with extreme care and entered initial values in the monitors. But we must see actual results with the real probes inserted in your bodies. That’s the reason for today’s activity. We will insert your probe set today, monitor your performance during the four final simula­tion exercises that begin on Thursday, and then update the trigger values, if necessary, before we actually launch.”

There was some involuntary squirming as the cosmonauts thought about the prospect of tiny medical laboratories indefinitely embedded in their criti­cal organs. They were accustomed to the regular investigative probes that were placed in the body to obtain some specific information, like the amount of plaque blocking the arteries, but those probes were temporary. The thought of permanent electronic invasion was disquieting, to say the least. General Michael O’Toole asked two questions that were bothering most of the crew.

“Nicole,” he inquired in his usual earnest manner, “can you tell us how you make sure that the probes actually go to the right places. Even more important, what happens if one malfunctions?”

“Of course, Michael!” she answered pleasantly. “Remember these things will be inside me as well and I had to ask the same questions.” Nicole des Jardins was in her middle thirties. Her skin was a shiny copper brown, her eyes dark brown and almond-shaped, her hair a luxurious jet black. There was an unshakable self-confidence radiating from her that was sometimes mistaken for arrogance. “You won’t leave the clinic today until we have verified that all the probes are properly positioned,” she was saying. “Based on recent past experience, one or two of you may have a monitor wander off course. It is an easy matter to track it with the lab equipment and then send overwrite commands as necessary to move it to the proper spot.

“As far as the malfunction issue is concerned, there are several levels of fault protection. First, each specific monitor tests its own battery of sensors more than twenty times a day. Any individual instrument failing a test is turned off immediately by the executive software in its own monitor. In addition, each of the probe packages undergoes a full and rigorous self-test twice a day. Failure of self-test is one of many fault conditions that causes the monitor to secrete chemicals causing self-destruction, with eventual harmless absorption by the body. Lest you become unduly concerned we have rigorously verified all these fault paths with test subjects during the past year. r

Nicole wound up her presentation and stood quietly in front of her col­leagues. “Any more questions?” she asked. After a few seconds” hesitation she continued, “Then I need a volunteer to walk up here beside the robot nurse and be inoculated. My personal probe set was injected and verified last week. Who wants to be next?”

Francesca stood up. “All right, we’ll start with la bella signora Sabatini ” Nicole said w.th uncharacteristic flare. She gestured to the television person­nel. Focus those cameras on the tracer simulation. It’s quite a show when these electronic bugs swarm through the bloodstream.”

Through the window Nicole could barely discern the Siberian snow-fields in the oblique December light. They were more than fifty thousand feet below her. The supersonic plane was slowing now as it moved south toward Vladivostok and the island of Japan. Nicole yawned. After only three hours of sleep, it would be a fight all day to keep her body awake. It was almost ten in the morning in Japan but back home at Beauvois, in the Loire Valley not far from Tours, her daughter, Genevieve, still had four more hours of sleep until her alarm would awaken her at seven o’clock,

The video monitor in the back of the seat in front of Nicole automatically turned on and reminded her that in only fifteen minutes the plane would land at the Kansai Transportation Center. The lovely Japanese girl on the screen suggested that now would be an excellent time to make or confirm ground transportation and housing arrangements. Nicole activated the com­munication system in her seat and a thin rectangular tray with a keyboard and small display area slid in front of her. In less than a minute Nicole arranged both her train ride to Kyoto and her electric trolley passage from there to her hotel. She used her Universal Credit Card (UCC) to pay for all transactions, after first correctly identifying herself by indicating that her mother’s maiden name was Anawi Tiasso. When she was finished a small printed schedule listing her train and trolley identifiers, along with the times of arrival and transit (she would reach her hotel at 11:14 a.m. Japanese time), popped out of one end of the tray.

As the plane prepared for its landing, Nicole thought about the reason for her sudden trip one third of the way around the world. Just twenty-four hours ago she had been planning to spend this day around her home, alter­nating some office work in the morning with some language practice for Genevieve in the afternoon. It was the beginning of the holiday break for the cosmonauts and, except for that stupid party in Rome at the end of the year, Nicole was supposedly free until she had to report to LEO-3 on January 8. But while she had been sitting in her office at home the previous morning, routinely checking the biometry from the final set of simulations, Nicole had come across a curious phenomenon. She had been studying Richard Wakefield’s heart and blood pressure during a variable gravity test and had not understood a particularly rapid surge in his pulse rate. She had then decided to check Dr. Takagishi’s detailed heart biometry for comparison, since he had been engaged in a strenuous physical activity with Richard at the time of the pulse surge.