Through the Singularity

by L. Frank Wadsworth

  She gets back to her home around mid-day. And Traemuña is fixing lunch. “Yes, yes, I know. I'm acting all motherly again. Well, somebody has to prepare the meals around here, and you seem to be very preoccupied today. How did it go?”

  “As I suspected, I don't think I really told her anything she hadn't already considered. She wants to visit within the week, with some unspecified 'others.' Should be interesting.”

  Her mother stops what she is doing for a moment to look at her. “That does sound interesting. They're going to bring you into their confidence. And by ‘they,’ I mean a select few galan—most of whom will be closer to my age than Beltare's. You must have made quite an impression. I'm not surprised. You've really thought this through and are making good progress. You must understand, you are quite young for this 'honor.' I hope you are mentally prepared. You're going to learn things about the collective, most of which will not sit well with you, though perhaps the bitter truth is better than sweet delusions. It'll build character,” she says with a wry smile.

  “Beltare also verified your unitary was here, so I think they will want you to sit in as well.”

  “Oh, don't worry,” she shares with a thin smile, “I wouldn't miss this for anything.”

  ∞∞∞

  Nils watches Cheryn as he pulls behind the old abandoned gas station. She is tired, and in pain, and a little stoned from the opioids she was given to shave the edge off her knee pain. She looks the place over, then turns to him with disgust and distrust written on her face. He sighs, “There's more to it than meets the eye. It used to belong to Rolle Andersson. He modified it a bit,” he says with a knowing smile. “Think you can make it a bit further on your leg?”

  She shakes her head, “I don't know, I just want to get in a bed and sleep until I ain't tired no more. You owe me that much.”

  “Indeed. You will have your own bedroom with a nice soft bed. Come on, let's get you settled, rested, and cleaned up a bit. Then I'll see what we can do about your knee.”

  “I'm afraid it'll need surgery. God, it feels like that jackass kicked it apart. I hope you hit him extra hard for me.”

  “Don't worry, I'm sure that lump I gave him won't go down for a while. I saw a good bit of the fight. You did well. Don't worry, we'll get you healed up. I can help you do better if there is a next time. And no, that doesn't mean anything more than I think it prudent that people be able to defend themselves. Call it a fundamental right.”

  “Humph, didn't really take you for a progressive. Still, I'm slowing down,” she says as she opens her door, wincing as she swings her legs around to get out. She puts her good foot down and tries to stand, but her left leg collapses. “Shit, you're going to have to help me.”

  “Alright. Let's get you inside.” Nils goes around to her side of the car, takes her hands and helps her stand on her good leg. He moves to her left side and lets her lean on him, so she can hobble into the broken back door of the garage. He leads her over to the lift.

  “What now?” she says looking around, a little suspicious.

  “Just hold on tight,” Nils says as he activates the lift. Cheryn cries out in surprise as the floor starts to descend.

  “What the hell…?” She is both surprised and amazed. “God, it must be nice to have money and be eccentric.”

  “Yeah, I've often thought so. Rolle was a pretty complex dude. I'm glad he showed me this place. He paid cash for the upkeep, so I kind of took it over after he passed. It's nice to have a place to run to if you have need.”

  She looks at him out of the corner of her eye. “Yeah, right. I'm still not buying your bullshit, but if you wanted to impress me, you’re doing a good job. Even so, I hurt too bad to really care.”

  “I know. I think I'll be able to do something about that too.” The lift gets to the bottom with a slight jarring stop. Cheryn almost topples over. Nils opens the door with one hand and helps her inside. Clive had it serviced before they got here, so it should be well provisioned for a while. She is starting to fade but seems impressed with the accommodations. Nils stops at the lift panel. “Now, look here. I know you don't exactly trust me, so watch what I do. This panel controls the lift. Here are the controls. I'm going to lock it at the top, then turn off this breaker so no one can use it without our permission. We're as safe as we can be. However, if you feel the need to leave, turn the breaker on, enter this access code, and pull this lever down. That'll bring the lift. Once on the lift, hit the big red button, and it'll take you up.”

  She studies the panel and he sees her recite the code a few times before nodding her head. “Shit man, I'm not going anywhere until I feel better. But thanks. Please get me to bed.”

  “I'll give you the bedroom. The bathroom is the door at the other end of the wall.” Nils takes her into the room. She sees a pair of crutches against the wall. “Use those if you need to hit the head. There are clothes in the dresser and towels in the bathroom closet. Across from the bathroom is the kitchen. There's plenty of food in there. I assume you just want to get into bed?”

  Cheryn nods her head grimly. “Nice place you got here. I may appreciate it in the morning. Can you get me a glass of water? I just need to take some more meds.”

  “There will be no need,” he says as he sits her gently on the bed. “Hold on just a moment; I need to get a special medical kit.” She looks at him, baffled for a moment, and starts to protest, but he holds up his hand. “Trust me on this. It has been used on you before and worked out well. It's the only reason you're still here.”

  Nils goes into the living room and takes Zaleria's medical kit off the kitchen table. It took him two weeks of searching, and a great deal of help from his little friends to find it. He didn't want to leave it in the woods, and as he suspected, Zaleria's symbiots enable him to use it, just like any other galanen. He'd asked Clive to bring it here.

  He returns to Cheryn, and she is sitting up, looking worried. And intrigued. “As I told you before, the person you were sent to kill was an alien. Specifically, a galan by the name Zaleria. When she visited you in the hospital, she used this medical kit to help heal your body. The doctors thought it was a miracle, and perhaps it was. Not because of the technology, but because of the love the person had for all humanity that she would use it to heal a person who tried to kill her. After the plane crash, I found this in the wreckage.” Cheryn's eyes go wide.

  “How does it work; what will it do to me?”

  Nils smiles, “Nanotechnology. Little machines that will repair the damage and leave you as good as new. She showed me how to use it, just in case. Hold out your hand.” Cheryn doesn't comply, not at first. “Don't worry, I've had it used on me. And you've had it used on you before, while you were in a coma. It was how she communicated with you.” Mixed emotions cross her face.

  “You’re serious about this, aren't you? This isn't some ruse.”

  Nils just nods. “I know how it sounds, but actions speak louder than words. You don't believe what I tell you anyway, but this you will not be able to deny. Like I told you before. I'm just a man, but one who knows some things. We are not alone in the universe. Beings are trying to help us evolve. And some are trying to help us fail.” He raises his eyebrows at her, “And you know who they are.”

  Cheryn holds out her right hand. He touches the med kit to the back of her hand. He reaches out through his symbiots to direct the machine. It injects hundreds of thousands of symbiots into her blood stream. He commands them to heal her damaged knee and to provide an assessment of her health. They are not like his symbiots, being much more limited. But, being purpose built for quick repair, they are more efficient at dealing quickly with damage. She will see significant improvement by morning.

  He feels them spread through her body, beginning to feed information back to his symbiots. He reaches out with his mind, “The galanen are just like us. They appear human. Genetically, they are nearly identical. The only difference is they are more evolved. We are reaching a similar state of technology. We
are approaching what many call a technological singularity. At some point, we will integrate machines like the ones I just injected into your body that will connect each of us to each other. It'll be like having a smart phone and supercomputer integrated into your body. They'll also be able to repair any damage you might have, making you nearly immortal. But if we don't mature as a species, it will destroy us. Look at how we use technology today, and project that forward. Yes, we use it to better ourselves, but just as often we use it to pleasure our baser instincts or kill one another. What happens when we can act out such fantasies, not in a virtual world but a real one. Think of the most popular computer games. Now, imagine games where people use real guns to kill each other, only to respawn time and again to do it all over again. The most perverse porn fantasies acted out on each other. Always getting more obscene, more edgy, constantly trying to find a bigger thrill than the last one, constantly needing more to get the rush. Rolle couldn't predict how we could make it through and survive. Then he met Zaleria and knew it could be done. This is why he set up the foundations.”

  Her eyes grow wide, frightened. “How are you doing that?”

  “Just think your responses,” he shares.

  “Holy cow, this is amazing. How'd you come to know all this.”

  “Rolle told me. I think he wanted to make sure someone could pick up where he left off if something ever happened to him. He knew Sklávoi Ashtoreth was after him. I think Zaleria felt the same way. This is how her people communicate nearly all the time. They can share thoughts, pictures, emotions, you name it. They call their virtual world the 'collective.' It is richer than our real world. The internet coupled with virtual reality and virtual intelligence on steroids. These symbiots I injected into you are not designed to do that, just to repair significant damage. You should start feeling better by morning. We can talk more then. But I wanted you to have a taste of what the future might hold, if we succeed.”

  Cheryn starts to feel incredibly drowsy, as the symbiots pump her full of sedatives, “Thank you,” she manages to share before falling into a deep, restful sleep.

 

  “Show me.” They do, and interesting is an understatement.

  ∞∞∞

  She sleeps fitfully for the better part of two days, getting up only a few times to use the restroom and grab some water before going back to bed. She finally awakes, alert, very hungry, and thirsty. Nils brings her a large glass of water, mixed with nutrients and sugars to help replace what the symbiots have used. She sucks it down quickly, so he brings her another one. She gets through about half of it before slowing down. “Whoa, they take a lot out of you,” she says.

  “Yeah, I thought about starting an IV but didn't expect them to take that long. Your knee must've been pretty busted up. How does it feel now?”

  She swings her feet to the side and tries to stand. She grows wide-eyed. She flexes her leg, bounces on it a few times, and then turns to face Nils. “It feels great, better than it did before I went to Seattle. As good as it did before…the bomb.” She shakes her head. “Damn, I didn't expect this.” She starts to tear up a bit but fights them back. She smiles. “I'm still not sure I buy all your bullshit, but I will listen to what you have to say. And thank you. I don't want to seem ungrateful, but this is overwhelming.”

  “Believe it or not, I know how you feel. And as much as I'd like to say I did all this to make an impression, it was mostly because I needed you on your feet, and this was the best way to do it. Though I think it will also make what I must tell you a bit more believable. But before we have such a meaty conversation, I think you'll want to have a hot shower and some real food. Those symbiots do a great job patching the holes, but they leave you hollow. I'll leave you to it.”

  “Well, thanks anyway. I have a hard time trusting people, and I know you want something in return. But this, this is real. We can talk after the shower, and some food.”

  Nils leaves her alone and heads to the kitchen to heat up some food. He selects red beans and rice, with chicken breast pieces mixed in. He also fixes a mixed green salad with a garden dressing. Finally, he selects flavored water, infused with minerals. All intended to help replace the nutrients used up by the symbiots in healing her knee. It was badly damaged and would have required extensive surgery. It was amazing she held out as long as she had. He makes a mental note that she is much tougher than she looks.

  She doesn't come out of the bathroom for 45 minutes, obviously taking him up on his offer to soak. She finally exits wearing a pair of jeans and a sleeveless blouse. She is walking without any trace of a limp or tenderness for the first time in three years. And though she hasn't said anything, and maybe hasn't noticed, all her previous scars are now gone.

  She looks at the food and smiles. Not the half smiles she infrequently offers up in social situations, but a genuine unforced smile. It brightens her whole face and suggests the kind of person she might have been if life had dealt her a different hand, Nils thinks to himself. She sits down at the small table and waits for Nils to sit down opposite her before digging in. Despite being ravenous, she takes her time to savor the food. She eats everything and downs two glasses of water before asking self-consciously if there is extra food.

  Nils gets up. “Don't worry. Like I said, they will leave you hollow. I made some extra, just in case. You're just replenishing what you lost.”

  She eats another half plate full and finally sits back contentedly and sighs. “That's better. What was in the drinks? I couldn't quite place it, but it really hit the spot.”

  “It is a mixture of minerals and salts that I've found complement the work of our little friends.”

  “You've done this before, haven't you? A lot…”

  It's not a question but a statement. At the same time, she is trying to probe him, find out how much he is willing to reveal. “Yes. I have been healed by symbiots, and I also helped restore Zaleria after the explosion. Her body had been torn apart, but her symbiots are part of her all the time. I helped restore her to full health, right here in this facility, until you couldn't tell she'd ever been injured. Not so much as a scar. It was one of the most amazing things I've ever seen.”

  “But she's dead now?”

  “As I understand it,” Nils answers. “Whatever destroyed the plane she and Rolle were on incinerated her remains as well as her symbiots. It didn't appear to be an explosion but some kind of energy discharge. I don't think such a weapon was created by the hand of man. You told Zaleria while you were in a coma that the Sklávoi Ashtoreth follow the teachings of celestial beings. I think they recognized her for who she was and destroyed her, to keep her from passing on what she knew to the rest of her people or to keep her from influencing Andersson. I do not know to what extent they were successful with the former goal, but they were definitely successful with the latter.”

  “How do you know all this stuff. I didn't even know about you. I'm not sure anyone was ever aware of your existence.”

  “Rolle liked to run projects outside the public gaze. He was very good at it. Very good. I was one of his “projects.” He saved me and, towards the end, started confiding some things in me. But I also hooked up with the one person who knew him best after his death. His ward and security chief. He has been a well spring of information.”

  “I'd heard of him. Name was Claude or something. Never learned his last name. Black man, about my age. We'd been given his photo, to be on the lookout for him. He had a reputation for being really good.”

  “His name is Clive. And I guess after you let your boss get murdered, that damages your reputation. DIS fired him less than a month after the incident. I hooked up with him shortly after that, as per Rolle's wishes. We've been continuing Andersson's work.”

  “And what exactly is that,” Cheryn asks. Perhaps a little sarcastically, but with more curiosity than she usually d
isplays when the subject of Andersson comes up.

  “Andersson was a student of history and was good at predicting trends. You don't get to be as successful as he was without some skills in those areas. He figured telecommunications, the internet, quantum computing, artificial intelligence and perhaps a couple technologies not quite yet mastered would lead humanity to become interconnected in ways we'd never imagined. He thought this would force us to evolve in ways hard to predict. The thing that worried him the most was artificial intelligence. He couldn't predict what would happen if machines became vastly more intelligent than humans. Another thing that worried him was what would happen if we entered into this singularity as selfish and violent as we currently are. The more he thought about it, the more he was convinced it would destroy us or turn us into something not recognizable as humans anymore. Monsters, more likely. Violent, profane, and evil. The existence of Zaleria's people has proven all of these things true but also gave him hope; they made it to the other side and still seem human enough where it counts. But evolved.”

  “So you mentioned before, but all I ever saw him do was make money building the very technologies that he thought would destroy us.”

  “But he also built his foundations. He thought technology would give us the opportunity to evolve as well as destroy ourselves. He also thought it was an inevitable, unstoppable trend. So he sought to use his foundations to bring about the social changes needed and to incorporate limitations into technology, to bring about our best chances of a good vice bad outcome.”

  Cheryn thinks about what she's seen at the Andersson Foundation over the last year. “I see a pattern to what you are saying. He was focused on individual change, wasn't he? His foundations focus on empowering the individual, helping them achieve success without reliance on government or others.”

  “He did. He saw governments as inherently self-serving, more than willing to enslave people to ensure their hold on power. Throughout history, that enslavement has taken many forms, but no matter the structure of government, the end is almost always the same. Power for a few, subjugation of the masses. The only way to avoid this is to empower the individual. He believed technology could help eliminate the need for central governments, freeing people at last. However, it could only work if the majority of people were of a like, noble spirit. Again, interconnectedness could help this. If you can feel what your fellow man feels, share their thoughts, it makes it difficult for deception, especially internal deception, to lead to distrust and misunderstandings. However, if selfish and violent people dominate, the outcome will be much, much different. So you can say his foundations were the real work he sought to achieve. The technology companies were merely to keep the cash flowing to his social endeavors. I don't think he cared about the technology aspects of his business as much as he did the foundations.”