Through the Singularity

by L. Frank Wadsworth

  “So where do I come in?” she asks.

  “Sklávoi Ashtoreth. The name of the adversary. Rolle believed there was evidence that human evolution was being tampered with. He would talk of patterns. Civilizations would rise, then fall. Angels and demons dominate almost all religions. The places and cultures were different, but the patterns were similar. He believed this wasn't just human nature, but that there were actual forces at work. One benevolent, the other evil.”

  “Then he met Zaleria. Her people have been watching Earth for millennia. Sending people to help guide our development. Helping us craft laws and moral codes, helping our civilizations advance. But opposing their work was a force of discord. One that helped spread discontent, strife, rebellion, decadence, immorality, and perhaps more, disease, war…I'm not sure Rolle knew. Her people were trying to find this force. They think it is a 'failed race,' one of those species that goes through the singularity but comes out irredeemably evil and corrupt. They exist. But whatever they are, or whomever they are, it appears to be centered within Sklávoi Ashtoreth.”

  Cheryn sits there for a long while thinking about what he has said. Recalling her youth, her upbringing, her involvement with SA. How she had harbored so much anger. But how did that start? It was groomed. “This is too hard to believe.”

  Nils nods his head. “I know. But think of what you have seen with your own eyes.” He holds out Zaleria's energy weapon. “This is not a human weapon; it is far more advanced. I'm not sure how it works. It somehow funnels a massive electric charge designed to overload the target's nervous system, but I don't know how it doesn't dissipate or ground out before reaching the target. I used their medical kit on you; you've seen what the symbiots can do. Now, imagine what they could do if they were encoded with your DNA and given quantum computing abilities so they could collectively augment your natural abilities. That is what Zaleria's people are like. Human, but nearly immortal walking supercomputers. They share thoughts, emotions, memories more easily than we talk.”

  “What do you want from me?”

  “I want you to tell me everything you can about Sklávoi Ashtoreth. They must be stopped. Clive and I have had some success tracking them down, but we don't know nearly enough to try and neutralize them.”

  “I need to sleep on this. I don't even know how to organize my thoughts. I want to help you, but I'm not sure how. I actually believe at least some of what you are telling me. How could I not?”

  “Do you mind if I invite Clive to attend?” Nils asks.

  Cheryn shifts a bit uncomfortably. “Does he know what I did? I tried to kill people he was protecting.”

  Nils nods his head. “He does. He knows all I know; we don't keep secrets from each other.”

  “Humph, must be nice. I've never met a man that didn't keep secrets from me,” she says under her breath. “I'm not sure. I'd prefer to keep it to you and me, at least for now if that is okay.”

  “That's fine. You're still recovering. We can chat again tomorrow, when you're ready.”

  “You gonna sleep on the couch,” she asks a bit hesitantly.

  Nils smiles, “I think that is for the best. We have enough complications in life for the moment, don't you think.”

  She shrugs and nods her head, yawns and heads into the bedroom.

  Nils sighs, gets up and grabs a bottle of bourbon. She is attractive, smart, and spirited and will likely be even more lively now that she'll be able to fully exercise without her knee hindering her. Reminds him of one of his former wives in some ways, from thousands of years ago when he was traveling in Africa. But she is an infant compared to him. A child still scared of the darkness. Besides, he smiles to himself, his heart is with another, though she may never know it. Damn the irony.

  ∞∞∞

  Zaleria's watch satellites announce the arrival of the D-ship carrying Beltare and the other visitors. It materializes after crossing through another plane of existence, a form of nearly instantaneous travel not permitted less evolved races. Creation is vast, and unimaginably complex, but aware of all It contains. The material universe is a nursery, and probably not the only one. The higher planes of existence are closed to all but those deemed worthy to enter. Galanen have advanced to the point where their D-ships are permitted to transit the next plane to facilitate the advancement of Creation's purpose. As a race, the galanen have only scratched the surface of Creation's complexity, but individual galan are permitted to cross over once they have learned all this plane has to teach them. In this regard, Zaleria has much yet to learn.

  Traemuña looks at her daughter. Earth has taught her much, she thinks to herself. She is her mother's daughter. And now she will further advance her education. Traemuña knows what to expect, but this will be Zaleria's first time. She will provide moral support, but this test she will have to face with her own wits and intuition. She hopes Beltare has not erred in her judgment of Zaleria's ability to prevail. She knows her well enough to know she wouldn't put her career and hopes in jeopardy otherwise.

  Beltare connects with Zaleria, “Are you ready for visitors?”

  Zaleria feels the double meaning of the question. She is ready to act as hostess, but she is also asking if she is mentally prepared. She is. And determined. She uses a formal greeting, “Welcome to Juruele. I hope you had a pleasant journey. Please land in the clearing by the pond to the east of my house. I look forward to our sharing.”

  Beltare and her entourage take a medium sized waverider down from the geostationary orbit the D-ship has parked in over her home. It lands without a sound, and Zaleria and Traemuña walk out to greet them. “Welcome to my home,” she shares.

  Beltare walks over and embraces her. “I am glad to find you well. I was worried about you, but I see now that it was misplaced.” She lingers in the embrace a moment more than necessary to emphasize that her sentiments are more than a formality. “Let me introduce our colleagues: Toshideor, the eminent historian; Jevelle, an elder gardener; and Fandtha a master engineer.” They each nod their head when introduced. Zaleria pulls from the collective as each is introduced and grows amazed at the experience standing before her. Each is well over 100,000 years old, having excelled in all aspects of their careers, making major contributions to the collective and Creation's purpose. Zaleria is stunned but retains her composure, and her resolve.

  “I am honored to host you,” she shares as she bows slightly. “Would you like to join me for refreshments after your journey?”

  Toshideor, a tall, thin galan with piercing light brown eyes, is the most senior present, save Traemuña. He steps forward and formally embraces Zaleria. “Thank you for your offer. We would enjoy the opportunity to share in your hospitality.” He releases her and moves to Traemuña, embracing her warmly. “It is good to see you again, Elder; the years rest light upon you. I look forward to sharing in your wisdom again.”

  “It is good to see you again, Toshi. May your insights continue to illuminate that which is hidden. But let us not be so formal, after all we have shared together.”

  He releases her, bowing slightly, and looks over to Zaleria. “If our host concurs.”

  “Indeed, we are here for a grave purpose, and I think candor is more important than formality.”

  “Then call me Toshi. Let us refresh ourselves and then settle in for a nice talk. You have stirred something up on Earth, and we are in danger of losing a planet full of sentients, who for all intent are our cousins. We have more questions than answers, I'm afraid.”

  Zaleria leads them into her house and sits them around her living room. She serves each of them by age, as is proper. The refreshments are light, fruits grown on her estate, and nectar from her pitcher plants. She serves Beltare last, who looks worried. Zaleria isn't the only one whose work is being examined, she realizes.

  After they are refreshed, Toshi turns to Jevelle, “Would you like to start? You have the most experience seeing sentients through their transition.”

  Jevelle sits for a moment gathering
her thoughts. She has a very fair complexion, with freckles across her nose and cheeks. Curly red hair frames her face, and her eyes are a dark hazel green. “Beltare has shared your thoughts with us, and I must say, you have reached some very provocative conclusions. Who else have you shared these with?”

  “None outside of those present in this room.”

  “That is good. You were provided access to sealed data from your first mission to Earth. What have you deduced from it?”

  “I find it interesting that a gravity wave consistent with a galanen wave-drive was detected. Since I was attacked by a kel'taite, I assume the ship that left this wake is the one that transported the creature. What still concerns me is that someone was able to nullify the drive on my ship. It didn't include the internal fields, or else both I and the ship would have been destroyed instantly on impact. So the kel'taite seems to have been a back-up plan. Similarly, they were able to cut-off my communications with the collective. A feat not duplicated since.”

  “That statement is in error.” Interjects Fandtha, the engineer.

  Zaleria is confused for a moment, then understands, “Perhaps in effect, but not in method. Yes, my comms were taken off-line on Earth, but that was because an explosion destroyed my comms package, at least according to what my unitary told Beltare.”

  “Yes, but we do not know the truth of it, as you, er…cannot share those memories, and the facts do not make sense.” He continued, “It would have taken no more than a couple days to restore comms to the point, uh, it could at least enter beacon mode. Thankfully, this didn't last long enough to, ah, grow another unitary. Uh, that would have been bad.”

  Toshi stops him politely. “All of which is true, but I think we should let her continue.”

  Zaleria picks back up with her thoughts after a moment’s reflection. “Again, I don't know how either neutralizing my waverider or comms was possible. I don't know what to make of the fact we haven't seen more of this. But I must conclude those responsible were on the ship that left. It seemed they wanted to hide something from the collective, but I've never been able to discover what. Even if they had succeeded in destroying my unitary at that time, other galanen would've gone to Earth to find out what happened. So that leaves two alternatives. One, that they wanted to hide something that wasn't going to be there when the rest of the galanen showed up, or two, they wanted to send a message.”

  Jevelle chimes in again. “If the intent was to send a message, who do you think they wanted to send it to?”

  “I don't know. Perhaps a warning to the collective? But this is belied by the lack of any further episodes.”

  Jevelle smiles at her. “Except for you. Perhaps it was a warning to you.”

  “Why me? It was my first mission. I was a rookie, a nobody. Why go through all that to send me a message?”

  Jevelle sits back. “Don't sell yourself short. I don't know. But I do think it is a possibility we must keep in mind.”

  They all reflect on this for a moment. Then Toshi stimulates another discussion. “Fandtha, how would it have been possible to neutralize the waverider and comms?”

  “There are several ways that come to mind, some far more challenging than others. Gravity waves can be neutralized by generation of a wave of opposite polarity and, ah, equal intensity. Possible, but nearly impractical on a non-cooperative system. It could also have been done by, uh, infecting the waverider with a virus. It was inspected, and none were discovered, but it could have removed itself prior to inspection, so that doesn't, er, prove anything. If I wanted to do it, I, ah, would have chosen that route. There are some other ways. Another galan could have acted to countermand her control inputs. Again, difficult, but, er, not impossible. There was no record of such interference. Also, Zaleria herself could, uh, have crashed the waverider on purpose, but that was also examined and ruled out.”

  He continues, “The comms are more interesting. They transit the next plane to circumvent the limitations of light speed, and, uh, to prevent interference from failed races. If I were to try and duplicate this feat, I would, er, try to convince Creation that the person trying to communicate was in fact a failed creature, ah, thus denying the pathway. You'd have to infect the person somehow, perhaps with altered symbiots. This is a recent theory, uh, so there is no way now to go back and check. That is a hard one, but the difficulty, er, limits options, so to speak.”

  Zaleria is shocked at how cavalier Fandtha sounds about doing these things and the degree to which her actions were scrutinized post mission. She never knew the collective treated its members with such suspicion. Toshi has been watching her face, reading it easily as she isn't even trying to conceal her emotions.

  “Zaleria, have you ever wondered why Creation only lets individual galan cross over? Why not the whole race? No, don't answer me, just think on that. Yes, you were under suspicion, just as you now suspect some unnamed galan.” He lets that sink in for a couple minutes and then turns to Jevelle. “Let's move this forward a bit, shall we?”

  Jevelle nods her head. “What do you remember from your time on Earth, especially your last mission?”

  Zaleria has decided it is time to share what she failed to share before. She takes a deep breath and switches to human English. “I would like to talk about that.”

  Toshi laughs. “Your mother is a very strong influence, I see,” he says with warmth.

  “Indeed,” Beltare echoes, eyeing her intently. “In more ways than one, I suspect.”

  Zaleria looks at Beltare. “I am very sorry I didn't bring this to your attention earlier. It is, was, a private matter. In hindsight, it was a mistake.”

  Beltare's eyes narrow, but she says nothing. Her green eyes bore into Zaleria; she does not like having information withheld from her.

  “We have to go back to my mission to Denver, when we thought Rolle Andersson was in danger from assailants we now know were linked with Sklávoi Ashtoreth. We never found him, because he'd managed to escape after subduing two assailants. But when I was heading into the hotel, I made what I thought was a brief connection with an unknown galan. However, the only person around was a human male, who appeared to be a vagrant. After the mission, I reviewed the session data and came to an unsettling conclusion. The vagrant was the human, Rolle Andersson, and it was with him that I'd started to establish a local connection. The symbiots involved appear to have been linked to my DNA. I had apparently been compromised and felt the need to verify my results before sharing. It seemed too bizarre.”

  The group sits in stunned silence for a few minutes, thinking through the implications. Finally, Fandtha chimes in, “Are you, er, sure it was him?”

  “Yes. I will share the data.” After she has done this she continues, “I do not know what happened when I went back to Earth. I was not able to connect with my essence because it appeared I'd been compromised by multiple consciences. My unitary was destroyed, as was Rolle Andersson, so it is hard to draw conclusions. Was he part of Sklávoi Ashtoreth? Was he their foe? How did he gain access to my symbiots? I have no answers to any of this. However, I do not believe whomever is behind this belongs to a failed race. Whoever is doing this knows how our collective was formed, knows our technology and how to use it, and knows how to sabotage it. I think it is a rogue galan.”

  Toshi sits a while, thinking. “Fandtha, what do you think? Technically, could an outsider do what has been done?”

  He thinks for a long while before finally saying, “I don't think so. It would, ah, take too much inside knowledge, and that is not well known even among galanen. I think her reasoning is, er, solid.”

  Toshi nods his head. “Jevelle, what do you think?”

  “I've run into many, many forms of interference tending to garden worlds. I've never experienced anything this sophisticated. I tend to agree, it must be an outcast.”

  Zaleria starts at the name. She'd never heard of a galan being outcast! How often do such things occur?

  Toshi looks over at Beltare. “What do you
think.”

  Beltare is trying hard to hold back her emotions. The look she gives Zaleria is awful. She feels betrayed. Disappointed. Angry. And despite all that, worried. She takes a while organizing her thoughts. “First, I'd like to thank Zaleria for finally sharing with me these matters. I…understand how private this matter is. I am disappointed she did not trust me enough to share this before, but we will discuss this one-on-one.”

  Traemuña interjects herself for the first time. “Trust must be built.”

  Beltare glares at her. “I'm sure she trusted you with her confidence. Why did you not have her talk to me about it?”

  “Galan learn nothing if they do not overcome adversity.”

  “Are you willing to let a race fail to teach that lesson?” She says, her voice rising.

  “I have trust in you not to let that happen.”

  Toshi interjects, “Beltare, Zaleria, you will have to repair your union later. This is not the time, when wounds are raw, and emotions are running high.” He looks at Beltare. “Are you ready to continue?”

  She takes a deep breath and regains her composure. “You are correct. Her reasoning now is sound. I think the fact Andersson had or was able to emulate her symbiots is significant. It suggests at least part of this is targeted at her or those close to her.”