Small Step

L-R Neil Armstrong, Michael Collins, and Buzz Aldrin,
but from our (non-alternate) reality.

Prompt - Alternate Reality (500 words): Alternative realities might be drastically different, like George Orwell’s 1984 (1949), or subtle, like Franz Kafka’s Amerika (1927), where New York becomes unsettling because of its small differences; for example, the Statue of Liberty holds a sword rather than a torch. Write a flash piece set in an alternative reality, conveying as much about this new world in as few words as possible.

Note: This is a work of complete and utter fiction. I changed a single, though important, detail about an inspiring American, asking "what if?" and this story answers that question.

***

    “All those moon-landing conspiracists? They have no idea.” Nellie held her youngest grandson on her lap, and her granddaughters sat on either side of her.  They knew every word of the story, delighting in being included in the secret.  Her kids quietly worked on Thanksgiving dinner while listening to Nellie, as caught up as the youngsters.  

    “We really went to the moon.  But there WAS a big conspiracy.  The biggest one of all.”  

    Nellie’s younger granddaughter couldn’t contain herself, “Grandma Armstrong, your name isn’t really Neil. It’s Nellie!”  

    Nellie laughed. ”That’s right. My real name is Nell, and I used the name Neil when I applied to study aeronautical engineering at Purdue. I claimed they’d misspelled my name on my high school records. I figured if they thought I was a woman, they wouldn’t let me —”

    “And Uncle Dean was really the one who served in the Navy under your name?” Her oldest granddaughter interrupted. 

    “Yep. My brother Dean knew I wanted to be an astronaut.  He figured I had the brains to do it, and didn't think it mattered that I was a woman, and he made it his mission to get me there.”

    Nellie pushed her long white hair out of her face, and that reminded her of the next part of the story. “First, I cut off my hair; I had to argue with the barber - he refused at first. Then, I had to learn to walk, talk, and look like a man.  Showering in college wasn’t easy, let me tell you!  But I pulled it off.” Nellie didn’t tell her grandbabies that she’d occasionally used sex to bribe the men who found her out into keeping their mouths shut.

    “But then I got into the NASA program.  Lots of doctors were going to examine me.  I’d need some modifications to the space suits.”  Nellie also didn’t mention that she had been glad birth control pills could prevent menstruation while she was in space.  “Slowly, I told a few of them. Just enough to get what I needed.  It became an open secret, though. No one talked about it, probably because they were embarrassed I’d fooled them.”

    Her grandson piped in, “But Uncle Buzz and Uncle Michael knew!”

    She hugged him tight. “Yes, honey. They sure did. They thought it was the greatest prank in the world that the first man to walk on the moon was a woman. They even helped me pull it off.”

    “And they laughed, right? When you said ‘one small step,’” her oldest daughter, sporting a few white hairs of her own, called from across the room where she was stuffing the turkey.  

    Nellie smiled. One of her happiest moments had been when her daughter was able to apply to the NASA training program and be accepted without having to hide her sex.  “Oh, yes.  And when I stepped out of the LM and said, ‘That's one small step for man,’ they laughed and laughed— they loved the irony.  And I did, too.”

--May 25, 2020

AI's storytelling has improved, but it's still pretty weird.

Image source: UCLA Newsroom

     About 2.5 years ago, I tested to see how well ChatGPT would handle a writing assignment. I fed it a chapter from my book (the one that describes my mom's birth) and asked it to switch the point of view (POV) from one character to another. The results were ... weird.  AI included such rookie mistakes as head-hopping and including info that the other character couldn't have known, because they weren't in the same room.  If you are curious, scroll about halfway down this story to see the results.

    I decided to repeat the exercise, and it's definitely gotten better, even wildly better, but it still makes mistakes, in POV, in verb tense, and in logic. It also does a poor job of inventing details to fill in narrative gaps.

My rough draft of Arthur's POV:

    At the hospital, the doctor took Roma into an exam room. Arthur started to take off his coat, then realized the waiting room was so cold he could see his breath.  

    The doctor brought Roma back out.  “She’s not quite ready; perhaps another few hours.  The delivery room isn’t in use now, so you may wait with her there until it’s time.”  The doctor led them into the delivery room. “We are only heating the ORs and the delivery rooms due to the fuel shortages.”  That explained the freezing lobby.  

    Arthur pulled a book out of his pocket. It was a new copy of Madam Curie by Éve Curie. They had left their first copy behind in Brussels. “Shall I read to you? It might help pass the time.”  

    Roma smiled — she was between contractions — and said, “Yes, that would be wonderful.”

    He read to her for hours, pausing when the contractions came or when someone came to check on her. After one such pause, he asked her, “So, what are the names we picked out again?”  

    “Sylvie Jacqueline, or Jean after your commanding officer, Jean Georges,” she reminded him instantly. When Liliane was born, they had chosen a name with an English cognate and had done the same thing this time.  

    Finally, something seemed to change in Roma, and she said, “Arthur, I think it’s time.”  

    He went to find the doctor, but the man was already on his way in to check on Roma, so Arthur stepped into the hallway again, keeping his hands in his pockets and pacing to keep warm.   

    The doctor came out. “The baby is coming soon; please go to the waiting area.”

    “May I retrieve my coat?” Arthur asked, rubbing his cold hands together.

    “Yes, of course.” 

    Arthur collected his coat, hat, and gloves, then pulled them on as he headed for the lobby.

    Arthur was freezing. The waiting room was glacial, and if he sat down, he got chilled and soon began shivering.  So he would get back up, blow into his hands to warm them, and bounce and pace and run in place to warm up again, though his nose remained cold and his toes stubbornly numb. When he grew tired, he sat back down, only to start the freeze-thaw cycle again.  He refused to fetch warmer clothes because what if Roma had the baby while he was out? And he could not ask the hospital for a blanket. The patients needed the blankets far more than he did. 

    After two hours, the smiling doctor came to find him. “Mr. Lubinski, you have a lovely, healthy daughter, and your wife is just fine.”  

    Relief rushed through Arthur — his wife and baby were all right, and he smiled despite his discomfort.  “May I see her?” Arthur was shivering, and his teeth chattered as he spoke. Stepping into the heated delivery room sounded wonderful.

    “Yes. Come warm up, and see your new daughter.”  

For the AI re-write, I added some color-coding. Green text indicates a pretty good change in POV, gold text indicates a partial or incomplete conversion in POV, red text indicates a mistake, and [italics] indicate my commentary.

AI's rewrite from Roma's POV:

    At the hospital, the doctor led Roma into an exam room. She glanced back at Arthur, who started to take off his coat, then paused, noticing the air in the waiting room was so cold he could see his breath.

    The doctor examined her gently, then said, “You’re not quite ready; perhaps another few hours. The delivery room isn’t in use now, so you may wait there with your husband until it’s time.” She nodded, grateful for the warmth and privacy.

    As they [where is Arthur?] stepped into the delivery room, the doctor explained, “We are only heating the ORs and the delivery rooms due to the fuel shortages.” That explained the icy lobby she and Arthur had walked through earlier.

    Arthur [he just appeared?] pulled a book from his pocket — Madame Curie by Éve Curie, a fresh copy to replace the one they had left behind in Brussels [she doesn't really question or notice he had acquired a new copy of a book that was important to them].

    “Shall I read to you? It might help pass the time,” he offered.

    Roma, between contractions, smiled. “Yes, that would be wonderful.”

    The sound of his voice comforted her. He read for hours, pausing during contractions or when someone came to check on her. Between one such pause and the next, he looked up and asked, “So, what are the names we picked out again?”

    She didn’t need to think. “Sylvie Jacqueline, or Jean, after your commanding officer, Jean Georges.” When Liliane was born, they had picked a name with an English equivalent — they’d kept the same approach this time.

    Later, something shifted inside her. A deep tightening, sharper than before. She caught Arthur’s hand. “Arthur, I think it’s time.”

    He rose to find the doctor, but before he could leave, the doctor entered to check on her. Arthur stepped out to give them room [they were in the delivery room - plenty of room. Better word choice would have been privacy], rubbing his hands together against the cold [head hopping - if he's in the hall, she wouldn't have seen that].

    Roma focused on her breathing, the world narrowing to the rhythm of pain and rest. The doctor stayed close, calm and kind, assuring her everything was progressing well.

    Soon he stepped out. Roma didn’t hear the conversation, but she saw the nods and gestures through the slightly open door.

    Time stretched and contracted like her own body. She was vaguely aware of Arthur’s absence and hoped he was keeping warm somehow. The lobby had been bitterly cold.

    Finally, after hours of labor, the baby arrived. Roma heard the tiny cry and tears sprang to her eyes — their child was here. A daughter [POV is good, but the storytelling isn't - it pretty much skipped the birth].

    Some time later, the doctor returned [when did he leave?] with Arthur, his nose red and his coat bundled tightly around him.

    “Mr. Lubinski, you have a lovely, healthy daughter, and your wife is just fine,” the doctor had [When they were out of the room?] told him.

    Arthur’s face lit up the moment he saw her. He was shivering, his teeth chattering, but his eyes were warm with relief.

    “May I see her?” he’d [switched to past perfect tense?] asked, voice shaking.

    “Yes. Come warm up, and see your new daughter,” the doctor had [past perfect tense?] said, stepping aside [barricading the way?].

    Arthur came to Roma’s side, eyes full of wonder. She held their daughter in her arms and smiled. For a moment, she forgot all about the contractions, the cold [the delivery room was heated], the long hours — there was only this: warmth, family, and the fragile beginning of a new life.

    The AI-generated version has an odd lack of detail, which gives it a dreamy quality.  It did a decent, if imperfect, job converting the POV (way better than it did 2.5 years ago!), and it knew to leave out things that happened to Arthur when he was in the waiting room, but it still left major gaps in the narrative. It (mostly) doesn't seem to know that it needed to invent details.  In Arthur's POV, the lack of detail regarding the birth is natural - he wasn't in the room with her, so he wouldn't have been aware of what was happening during the childbirth process.

    It does make me wonder about authors who try to pass off AI-generated fiction as their own, which seems like a bad idea.  AI's writing, even with the improvements, isn't actually good, and certainly not poetic or emotional. 

    And when an author skips immersing themselves in the story themselves, and merely serves as an editor to a robot, their writing isn't going feel like it captures humanity. Rather, the characters are going to be robots wearing makeup, their human faces merely painted on.