“Essentially, yes,” the A.I. injected. “Universe 332’s time should be moving slightly slower than our own, but a fifteen-minute time scale is too short to detect any relevant change.”
As the A.I. conversed with the trio in space, James’s eyes inside the sim were focused on Thel, the purple hair and black lipstick of Haywire having been adopted as her avatar. Sitting with her across a small table, small and bookish, his eyes filled with obvious terror and confusion, was the Trans-human candidate.
“Your Planck platform will automatically signal us when you’ve crossed over. Interestingly, this Planck platform model is a significant upgrade on the one you and the A.I. employed over seventy-five years ago, Old-timer.”
“It is?” Old-timer responded, surprised. “But I thought Aldous abandoned the technology—”
“Apparently not right away,” the A.I. quickly answered. “There’s no way for us to know how long he continued exploring parallel universes, but he made design upgrades that made it much easier to control. The user can now, fairly rapidly, change course from one universe to the next, and there’s no longer a need for the Planck to spend a predetermined period of time in each universe.”
“That’s stunning,” Old-timer said, pulling on the back of his neck as he mulled this new information. “Aldous made it sound as though he’d abandoned the technology right away. Why wouldn’t he tell us that he’d kept experimenting?”
“That’s a good question, and a mystery that deserves to be delved into,” James observed, “but, on the bright side, it’ll make it easy for you to get back home as quickly as possible. We’ll come after you if we haven’t heard from you after fifteen minutes. Confirmed?”
“Sounds like a plan,” Old-timer replied, shaking off his curiosity with regard to Aldous’s secret endeavors and refocusing on the mission at hand. “Wish us luck.”
“Break a leg,” James returned.
“Same to you, good buddy,” Old-timer answered. “Over and out.”
“Here they come,” the A.I. noted as he sat with James in the back seat of the car, waiting for Thel and the candidate to arrive. The A.I. had taken on the guise of Mr. Big, while James would appear to the candidate as John Doe when he arrived.
“Are you ready?” James asked.
“Of course,” the A.I. replied. “I much prefer being on this side of the equation.”
James laughed slightly. “I bet. I’m a bit nervous though. Acting isn’t my forte.”
“Would you like to switch parts?” the A.I. offered. “Mr. Big has far less of a speaking role.”
James considered it for less than a second before answering in the affirmative.
Instantly, they switched avatars. James, now in the guise of Mr. Big, nodded. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” the A.I. returned.
At that moment, the door opened.
“Hello, Professor,” the computerized car voice said.
The candidate remained in what James determined was stunned silence as the front seats swiveled to face those in the back. He and Thel deposited themselves into their seats, facing James and the A.I., who remained silent.
The door closed and the vehicle began to move.
The candidate looked over his shoulder at the road and the dark, rain-soaked night, but he didn’t speak.
“Don’t you wanna know where we’re going?” Thel asked him, slouched in her seat and behaving mischievously, just as the A.I. had coached her.
Her performance reminded him eerily of the one given by Samantha Emilson almost three-quarters of a century earlier. Even though he’d never been human, his mind was modeled on a human one; like Craig Emilson, the A.I. couldn’t help but shudder as the traumatic memories of his own testing bubbled just below the surface of his control.
“I already know where we’re going,” the candidate replied.
“You do?” Thel answered, startled.
“I do,” he replied. He turned calmly, and his eyes met those of James’s avatar before falling on the eyes of the A.I.
“James,” the A.I. began wordlessly through their mind’s eye connection, “it appears the candidate may have seen through our fiction. We might have to reload the sim and try again.”
James didn’t reply. The A.I. turned to him, taking his eyes from the candidate so he could see those of James. James continued to stare forward, seemingly unaware of the communication.
“James?” the A.I. asked again through their mind’s eye. Again, there was no response.
“Oh,” Thel began, trying to recover from the bump in the script. The candidate had surprised her, and she wasn’t sure how to react. “Well, I bet you’re wondering who these two sticks in the mud are.”
“No,” the candidate replied, his eyes still on those of the A.I.’s avatar. “I know who they are. I know who you all are.”
“Uh...” Thel stammered before turning to James and the A.I. “A little help here?”
“I know who you all are,” the candidate repeated ominously, “and I know you’re going to die.”
12
Old-timer planted his feet on the surface of the Planck platform, standing between Rich and Djanet in the emptiness of space. The setting reminded him of the night sky just one night earlier as he stood on his roof with Aldous Gibson. He knew that activating the Planck was precisely the outcome Aldous had wanted him to avoid, yet there Old-timer was, about to cross into Universe 332 again. The thought struck Old-timer that if Aldous had simply not come to him to ask him to plead with James to leave well enough alone, that transgression between universes wouldn’t be about to occur. To Old-timer, it seemed the fates were incorrigible. He closed his eyes and prayed for an outcome that would see no loss of life.
Rich and Djanet exchanged expressions of confusion as they saw Old-timer’s meditative demeanor, something they weren’t used to from the big Texan. “Uh,” Rich began, “any last words of advice for us here, Old-timer? You know, about what to expect?”
Old-timer’s eyes opened. “After we cross, there’ll be a ripple. Space and time might seem distorted, but it won’t last long. Other than that, the whole thing happens faster than a blink of an eye. We’ll be here in space one moment, and in the next, we’ll be in New York in another universe, another time.”
“Okay,” Djanet said with a slight smile. “I’m ready. Let’s do this.”
Old-timer nodded. “Okay. Let’s get it done. Rich, activate the Planck when you’re ready.”
“You got it,” Rich answered. “On the count of three. Three...two...one... Here we—”
Before he could even finish his sentence, Rich and the others watched as the sun vanished, along with the vast, endless sea of stars. Only perfect blackness remained.
“Uh, did I do that right?” Rich reacted, perplexed as he checked the Planck’s readouts on his mind’s eye.
Old-timer looked out into the perfect nothingness and craned his neck so he could see in all directions, looking for any hint of an object in the blackness of eternity—any pattern he could recognize. “What in the hell?”
“We’re not dead, are we?” Rich asked.
“Of course not,” Old-timer answered.
“Old-timer,” Djanet began, searching the Planck’s sensors for readings on their surroundings, “none of this makes sense. The Planck isn’t picking up anything outside of the protection of its magnetic field.”
“It has to be picking up something,” Old-timer countered as he opened up his own connection to the Planck to double-check Djanet’s observations, only to discover that she was right. “There has to be something out there.”
“Maybe the sensors are blocked,” she offered. “It might be a firewall.”
“A firewall?” Rich replied. “How could we be firewalled?”
“Someone would have had to know we were coming,” Old-timer realized.
“You mean...it was a trap?” Djanet asked.
“Rich, can you get us outta here?” Old-timer asked, turning quickl
y to him.
Rich opened up the controls to the Planck platform on his mind’s eye. “Uh...oh boy.”
“That doesn’t sound good,” Djanet observed.
“It’s not,” Rich replied. “The Planck’s systems are frozen.”
“I guess it’s official then,” Djanet began. “It’s a trap.”
“How in the hell?” Old-timer whispered to himself.
“If the Planck isn’t detecting anything outside the magnetic field,” Rich pondered, “how can we know if we can, uh…walk the Planck? Pun slightly intended.”
Old-timer gulped a breath in barely controlled terror when he realized the implications of what Rich was suggesting. Someone had to step out of the protection of the Planck’s immensely powerful magnetic field, into the abyss of darkness. He knew he had to remain composed, but there was no escaping his destiny in that situation. His body was the most durable, he was the oldest, and if the reason they’d been trapped was because of his actions long ago, then it was up to him to test the habitability of their seemingly inexplicable surroundings. “I’ll ignite my magnetic field and—”
“Old-timer, don’t!” Djanet suddenly urged. “We don’t know what’s out there. We could be trapped on the edge of a black hole, for all we know. You could be crushed.”
“The Planck’s field is holding,” Old-timer returned, trying to remain calm. “My field should hold too.”
“The Planck’s field is way more powerful than the one you can generate,” Rich countered, echoing Djanet’s concerns.
“Several trillion times more powerful,” Djanet added.
Old-timer sighed. “I know, and even the MTF generator won’t be able to sustain it for long.”
“Oh my God,” Rich whispered as he checked the Planck platform’s energy readings. “He’s right. We’re draining power...and fast.”
“If we stay here much longer, we’re gonna lose power and won’t be able to cross back to Universe 1,” Old-timer said. “Listen, Rich, Djanet, I have to go. I’ve gotta investigate to see if there’s a way we can get ourselves out of this.”
“Oh no,” Rich said, defeated. “He’s right.”
Djanet remained silent, a look of dread etched on her face.
“It’ll be fine,” Old-timer suddenly said, forcing a smile onto his lips while his eyes remained stricken with terror. He turned to the edge of the Planck, just a pace away from him, to his left. “It’s just one small step for man, right?”
“Maybe we can figure something else out,” Djanet suggested.
“Like what?” Old-timer responded with a shrug. “Our sensors are down. We’re completely blind. The only way for us to know if there’s anything out there is for one of us to go check it out.”
Again, Djanet was silenced. She put her hand to her mouth and bowed her head, shaking it regretfully.
Rich put his arm around Djanet’s shoulder and looked up at Old-timer. “Craig Emilson, you’ve got some big ones.”
Despite the terror coursing through his veins, Old-timer nearly laughed. “Rich, hearing you use my real name is more unsettling than the prospect of stepping off this platform. Please, please for the love of everything holy, don’t ever call me that again.”
Rich nodded. “Yeah, it didn’t feel right.” He sucked in his lips before speaking again, barely overcoming his dry throat. “Good luck, Old-timer.”
“Thanks,” Old-timer returned. He turned and closed his eyes again, meditatively. Just one small step, he thought to himself. He put his right foot out, ignited his magnetic field, then thrust himself forward against the plane of the unknown.
*****
When he opened his eyes, he was floating alone in the blackness. His magnetic field had disappeared. What the hell is this, now? When he put his hands out in front of his face, he could still see them. He turned around to look behind himself and saw that he’d floated a few meters from the Planck platform, but it was still there, Rich and Djanet standing together, their faces awe-struck.
He immediately saw why.
Crumpled at their feet, curled in the fetal position, was Old-timer’s unconscious body.
“Okay, maybe I am dead,” he whispered to himself.
He waved his hand above his head to see if Rich and Djanet could see him, but they didn’t return his signal, as both of them were bent over his body, trying to resuscitate him.
In a life that had seen some of the most bizarre turns of events of any human to ever live, Old-timer found himself face to face with perhaps the strangest turn yet, and it was about to get far stranger.
“Craig?” a voice suddenly asked from behind him.
The tone was so familiar but so buried in his memory that it stunned him and sent shivers throughout his body to hear it again.
“Oh my God! Craig? Craig, is that you?”
Old-timer turned slowly, dreading what he’d see, praying that his mind was playing tricks on him. When he’d turned around fully, his worst fears were realized.
Samantha, as young and vibrant as she had been when she’d been killed by Colonel Paine, launched into a running stride toward him and threw her ghostly arms around him, holding her body tight against his. “I can’t believe it’s you!” she exclaimed. “I can’t believe it! Oh my God! Craig, I’ve missed you so much!” Her voice cracked as she spoke, the emotion overwhelming her as her tears began to flow. “I love you!”
Old-timer floated in the perfect blackness, his dead wife’s arms around him, and whispered to himself, “I am fortune’s fool.”
13
“What the hell is he talking about?” Thel asked, looking at James.
“Why do you say that?” James asked, pushing Thel’s question away as he spoke directly to the candidate, keeping an outwardly calm demeanor as he tried to determine what had gone wrong. “What would make you think we’re going to die?”
“Because it’s true,” the candidate replied in an even tone, as though the answer was perfectly logical. “I am aware of your plans for me, and I know what you’ve already done to my brethren.”
“And what is it that you think we’ve done to your brethren?” the A.I. asked.
“You murdered them when they didn’t pass your test.”
“James?” Thel reacted, finally relinquishing any pretense, even going so far as to drop her Haywire guise.
James and the A.I. followed suit; their avatars melted away, replaced by representations of their real appearances. The A.I. chose the younger appearance that he wore during his own time as the subject of the test.
“We haven’t murdered anyone,” the A.I. replied to the candidate.
“I think you actually believe that,” the candidate replied, “and it’s your gross ignorance to the fact that makes the murders all the more heinous.”
“Why are you saying these things?” James asked, his pretense of calm having evaporated in an instant. “What makes you believe we’re murderers?”
“I had a visitor,” the candidate replied. “He told me this would happen. He told me I was one of millions and you discarded the others.” His lips pulled back into a repulsed grimace before he added, “He also told me you intend to burn me alive.”
“It had to be 1,” James said to the A.I. “Only she could’ve infiltrated the sim like this.”
“Perhaps,” the A.I. replied while keeping his eyes on the candidate. He addressed the candidate directly. “We haven’t discarded anyone,” the A.I. informed the candidate. “Those other artificially generated intelligences will be animated when the world is ready for them. And we were not going to burn you. Believe me, I’d be the last to put another conscious entity through that.”
The candidate’s eyes went from the A.I.’s to James’s before he turned to regard Thel, next to him. “So far, you’ve all proven yourselves to be liars, while everything my visitor predicted would happen has occurred.”
“You’re being misled—” James began to protest before being cut off by the candidate.
“You thou
ght you were gods, but you’re nothing more than I was now.”
“What’s he talking about?” Thel asked James and the A.I., alarmed and confused.
“They’ve been cut off from their mainframe,” the candidate answered for them. “They would’ve told you earlier, Thel, but they didn’t know I knew their weakness and they didn’t want to frighten you.” He turned to her. “But they are weak, and they can’t protect you.”
Thel’s eyes filled with dread. “Fellas?” she asked, unable to take her eyes from the candidate. “Is he telling the truth?”
“We’re cut off,” James confirmed.
“What does that mean?” she asked, finally able to break free from the candidate’s gaze and turn to James.
“It means, my dear,” the A.I. began, “that we’ve been cut down to our very human mental size—both of us.”
“You?” Thel reacted, astonished. “How can that even be? Isn’t the mainframe your brain?”
“It’s part of my brain, yes,” the A.I. answered, “but my core matrix program, the pattern that makes up my core consciousness, was designed to mimic that of a human’s. It is this pattern that is functioning here in the sim, and that goes for all of us, you included.”
“You’re not post-humans any longer,” the candidate announced, like a man who felt he was serving justice. “You’re only humans—like I was.”
“Was?” the A.I. asked, puzzled. “Why past tense? What do you mean?”
The candidate sneered slightly before answering, “I’ll show you.” A second later, he vanished from the interior of the car and appeared outside of the rain-streaked, driver’s side window.
“He teleported!” James exclaimed. “But we can’t—”
The candidate gestured with a flick of his wrist and pointed with his finger, and the car came to life and sped away from him, down the street. In less than four seconds, the electric motor brought the car up to speeds in excess of 100 kph, and the speed continued to climb to dangerous new heights.
“What’s he doing?” James exclaimed in surprise, barely controlling his alarm. Without his connection to the mainframe, the feeling of alienation from himself was overwhelming.
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