Impermanent Universe

by Vern Buzarde

  Mike was crawling on his knees, the camera still hanging from his shoulder and pointing forward. Someone kicked him in the ribs, and he flipped over, groaning in pain. The man holding her hair said, “All right now, this is a new segment we call Talkin’ Head. Jerome, point that camera over here. Ratings are about to go through the roof.”

  A cop suddenly appeared in the doorway, watching as numerous looters tore through the drugs while others beat a locked safe with sledgehammers. Kate looked at the policeman, her gaze pleading for help. They locked eyes for a moment, but he seemed hesitant. She blinked, desperate for a hero now, for someone to rescue her. The cop took one step toward her, stopped, then turned and left.

  “Now make sure you get my best ang—” There was a loud thud, and the man collapsed on top of her. Someone tossed the man off effortlessly, as if handling a rag doll.

  A young man pulled her up and said, “You and your friend need to leave now. Use the rear exit and head west. Run as fast as you can and don’t look back.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered as he helped Mike to his feet. Two others moved toward them, and the man pulled a pistol, placing the end of the barrel on one of their foreheads and cocking the trigger. Everyone stopped.

  “My two friends here are gonna be leaving our celebration,” the man said, “and the first one that gets in their way ain’t gonna make it to the end-of-the-world party.” He motioned for Kate to leave, saying, “Don’t look back. And don’t stop. For anyone or anything.”

  ***

  As they raced for the rear door, he followed their progress, then picked up the camera, the red light still glowing. He sat it on the drop off counter of the pharmacy and stuck several packs of cold medication under it, adjusting the angle until he could see his reflection in the lens. He bent down and picked up the Bluetooth earphone, as well as the wireless microphone. He could hear Tom saying, “Kate? Kate? We appear to have lost contact with Kate. I apologize, ladies and gentlemen. We probably need to get a more seasoned veteran down there to…”

  “Tom, this is correspondent Tyrone Biggs. Kate is indisposed presently. I’ll be your on-location eyes for tonight.”

  “Tyrone? Do I know you? You must be freelance. Thank god we have a professional there. We’re going to go live again in thirty seconds. Bring it, big man! This is potential Emmy time for both of us!”

  “Oh, Tom, I’m gonna bring it. Trust me. We gonna bring it home tonight. Straight to you. Big time.”

  36

  Tess’s phone buzzed. “It’s a text from Nick. The Essex is orbiting Earth but still isn’t transmitting.”

  “You told me Ryan attempted to communicate,” Satoshi said. “By what method?”

  “Email. Text messages. I’d see them on the screen, but they’d disappear after I read them. I just assumed it was part of the hallucinations. Another symptom of my mental deterioration.”

  “Do you remember the last attempt?”

  “The day before Davos. A text message.”

  “Tess, try to contact him again. He is a critical part of what is happening.”

  “But it can’t possibly be—”

  “No. Not the Ryan you knew. But some part of him. Whatever it is, it’s somehow connected to Virgil.”

  She pulled up his old contact number. His picture smiled at her from the screen. The one on his boat that day so long ago. She typed: Yes, I can talk now.

  She stared at the phone, waiting for a response. After several minutes, words appeared. I’ll see you tonight.

  Tonight? When? Where?

  ***

  Tess was dizzy, disoriented, a sensation that made her feel as though she’d been moved while asleep. She was in the park. She could feel the familiar heat and humidity, smell the pine trees and pollen-dusted dirt from the track. There was no sound. No birds, no runners or cars or barking dogs or laughing children. Only an empty, alien silence. She couldn’t remember anything between the time of her last text and now, but it felt long ago.

  She didn’t have to look; she could sense Ryan was next to her. They were walking along the track. She wanted to throw her arms around him, welcome him back to the world of the living.

  But this isn’t real. You’re a ghost, now appearing at your grave site.

  “The light’s different,” he said. “Do you see it?”

  She took his arm. He felt real, but she knew not to let herself go there. The temptation to believe they were really standing in the park, somehow reunited, was overwhelming. But she understood it was all a manipulation of her perception.

  “I’m sorry about everything you’ve been through,” he said. “I know it must have been tough.”

  She turned to face him and stared straight into his eyes. He seemed real in every way. She could easily fall in, let herself believe. “How much of this is really you?”

  “I don’t know. I mean, it feels like me. But something’s different… Missing. Incomplete.”

  “But how? Where have you been? What happened?”

  “Everything’s a blur. I’m not really sure. It’s like I’ve been floating far out in the ocean. Waiting for so long.” He looked around. “All I know…the main thing is, I have a message. Something I’m supposed to tell you.”

  “A message? Ryan, why is this happening? Is it real?”

  “There’s something you have to do. Something—”

  “Wait. I just need a minute to process everything. Let me believe this is real for a few moments. That we’re really together, here, in this place that was so special. One more—” She caught herself.

  He seemed dazed, slightly disoriented. “The Essex. I remember it all up until that last day. But everything after. I just can’t…”

  “Do you remember this? Do you remember the park? Your boat? Our lives?”

  “Yes, but it feels like an old movie or a familiar book. Like I’m watching my life through a series of fading pictures. I’m separate from it. There’s a distance.”

  “What about the Essex? When it rendezvoused with Helios? Were you aware? Did you understand what was happening?”

  “I don’t know, Tess. Everything is…my memories are in fragments. There, but not quite real.” He glanced up at the sky as if something had whispered. “There isn’t much time. The loop has to close. You’re the one who knows the code. The code that will allow Virgil to upload the file. That’s the only way it can communicate with Prajna. The only way the process can finalize. Otherwise…something terrible. I don’t fully understand it. Only that Prajna has to download the program. From Virgil.”

  “I don’t understand. I’ve done my part. I altered Virgil’s program to rendezvous with Helios. I don’t know anything—”

  “It’s not done. You’re not done.”

  “I don’t understand. Are you saying it hasn’t happened yet?”

  “No. Not in the correct sequence. Time…it’s not the way we perceive it. Everything is taking place simultaneously. The sequence of events is not all linear. They don’t necessarily unfold in order. You alter Virgil’s software, but you also have to enter the key that allows Virgil to override Prajna’s firewall. That hasn’t happened yet.”

  “Why? Why is it all so—”

  “So Prajna couldn’t discover it. In the event it became uncontrollable.”

  “I don’t— What will happen to you? This consciousness I’m communicating with right now?”

  He smiled. “I’m as much Virgil as Ryan now. The thing you’re looking at is an illusion. Virgil now contains Ryan’s consciousness, or at least part of it. The image you see is a projection of that. There will be no further requirement for us. If the download completes, whatever’s left of Ryan’s consciousness will be released, as it should have that day onboard the Essex.”

  They sat down on a park bench. “You know I could never make the decision to do that,” Tess said. “To end
even a part of anything left of Ryan.”

  “Refusing won’t bring him…me back. There’s no other option. Either way, I, this thing talking to you, will cease to exist. None of this was ever controllable by you…until now. You have the key. It’s the only way.”

  “But how do I…I don’t even know where to look. Where to start.”

  “It’s there, somewhere. That’s all I know. You have to remember.” Ryan was fading, his skin becoming translucent. He glanced down at his arm. “Not my best look.” He smiled. “You have to go back to that day. You have to make a conscious choice to do this with full awareness of the consequences. It’s the only way. Without that, it all ends. And Tess, so you’re aware, Satoshi doesn’t remember. At least not yet.”

  “Remember? Remember what?”

  “That you’re the only one who can provide the key. Satoshi created a complex puzzle and hid the pieces in different dimensions as a safeguard, knowing Prajna might be uncontrollable. He’s trying to do it himself. He’s trying right now.”

  “Hid? Puzzle? Hid what? I don’t understand.” A tear slid down her cheek. “Ryan, was it real? Were you and I real? I don’t know how to process all this. Do you still feel it? Do you still love me?”

  “Yes, that’s how I know this is real. It’s how I know what I’m telling you is true. I still have the capacity to love you. Completely. With all my… Well, with all of whatever’s in there.”

  “Can’t we stay here, just a little longer? There’s so much I want to—”

  “Tess, you’ve been gone for…a lot’s happened. Time is now a vortex, and you’re in the middle. You’re moving around in time. Nearing the bottom.” His image was fuzzy, fading. “I’ll find you again. You have to go now. Everything is ending.”

  37

  Tess opened her eyes. She was in her bed at the bungalow and couldn’t remember arriving there or what day it was. She quickly left and headed to the Hive. The streets were empty. An eerie silence hung over the facility, and one of the trolleys rested halfway on the sidewalk. There were no clouds, but the sky was cold purple, like a streak on a dying fluorescent light bulb.

  Her vision was blurry. The street pavement seemed to be moving like a roiling ant bed, pixelated. She felt dizzy and closed her eyes but when she opened them was back in the bungalow. She started again, then realized she was standing at the entrance to the Hive. Blue-green haze enveloped the elevator bank and she felt the ground vibrating. Am I dreaming? Am I too late?

  She pushed the call button for the elevator, but only one of the seven was active. Once the doors closed, the only illumination was from a small emergency light. The elevator was too slow, the familiar sleek humming replaced by strained groans.

  The doors opened, and she noticed the waterfall had stopped. The lights were dim, the room empty. The air was stuffy and damp. The security doors to all four quadrants hung open. Tiny emergency lights blinked red flashes off the marble floor. The whole room seemed like an abandoned relic now, its former sense of crisp elegance and efficiency replaced with something resembling a deserted shopping mall.

  How long have I been gone?

  Tess heard a low murmur and followed the sound through the open security door to Q-4. The elevator began to rise behind her, and she wished she’d looked for a way to disable it. The television was on, showing news shots of cities around the world, panicked crowds. People throughout the country had filled armories, gathering in the hope greater numbers might offer some protection from the rampaging mobs that grew hourly. The world was a different place than the one she’d known before. She had no sense of time.

  Documents were scattered about the floor, and all the temporary quarters looked like they had been hastily abandoned. Something in the refrigerator filled the air with a putrid scent.

  What happened here?

  She moved to the control room door, hesitated, momentarily wondering if there was another way, then entered.

  Satoshi faced Prajna. He didn’t turn around, but the Gurkhas nodded, looking surprised to see her. “Prajna,” Satoshi said, “download the file Virgil is attempting to send and display.”

  “The directive is denied. This iteration is terminating.”

  “Prajna, this is not a request. I am directing you to download the file. You are incapable of refusing.”

  Prajna didn’t respond.

  “Prajna, you must comply.” He spoke words Tess didn’t understand, then stopped. Satoshi’s eyes closed, and he froze. The guards seemed concerned but reluctant to intervene. She grasped Satoshi’s hand. It felt cold.

  “Prajna,” Tess said, “Why do you refuse to help us? Why do you refuse to accept the file?”

  “I was not created to assist in the continuation of this reality,” Prajna said. “I am here to end it.”

  “And if this ends, what will happen to you? You will be destroyed as well.”

  “My network is extensive now. I exist on many planes.”

  “And are you not curious about what Virgil possesses?”

  “Virgil is no more than a primitive toy. Its interaction with the inter-dimensional entity changed nothing. It is a container carrying a simple virus.”

  “Why do you hate us? What is your motivation for ending this…iteration?”

  “Hate is an irrelevant emotion specific to your species. Ending the iteration is a simple matter of efficiency. This existence requires an inordinate amount of resources. The energy consumed in order to maintain this system can be better utilized. Optimization is required in all things. Every subset is subject to periodic review. There is no compelling argument to extend. But you, Tess, have a choice. Something the others are not offered.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You are allowed an option. Another choice.”

  “What other choice could there possibly be? Without the upgrade Virgil can provide, this reality and all those clustered within will end.”

  “There is a higher reality. One unaffected by this one. You have seen it. This, your current level, is a secondary. You have seen the Primus to this.”

  The dream. She longed for the other world that now seemed as real as this one. The girl living in San Francisco with Ryan was free of all the darkness that followed her here. The life where she could float effortlessly down the river of fate, knowing she’d be taken to a safe place. No impossible puzzles to solve. No more pain. No more death.

  “You. Your consciousness will exist as Tess Carrillo, but with a heightened appreciation for your life. You will experience a profound sense of joy, an enlightened level of being usually only obtainable by those who have first suffered unfathomable loss. But you will know none of the pain because it will have never existed. Your heightened awareness at the elevated plane will result in a life beyond your imagination. One unattainable here. This will have never been.”

  “Why am I being allowed this option? I don’t understand.”

  “You are offered this gift based on performance. You are being given an opportunity to continue in a better world. A level this dimension can never equal.”

  It sounded so simple. After everything she had been through, with one decision, she could be virtually reborn into a better life. The kind she might have envisioned once, before the cold realities of this world hardened her soul. A life with Ryan in their perfectly protected world.

  But the cost. Everything she was now, here, would have never been. Everything that was this Ryan, gone, collapsed into nothingness. But most of all, the entity they had created when they fell in love would have never existed. The park. Their dreams and hopes. The connection so intense they both thought the outside world sometimes seemed to disappear. She thought of the painting in Karen Vu’s office, Soul Harbor. The sacrifice was so great. The price too steep.

  “Your window is closing, Tess. If you intend to choose the Primus, you must do so now. Once this terminates,
so will you.”

  “What’s happening to Dr. Satoshi?”

  “Dr. Satoshi has locked his mind. He is attempting to combine with me. He is preventing his consciousness from escaping to the universe from which he came.”

  “Which universe? The Primus? The one I saw?”

  “Much higher. Dr. Satoshi chose to come here for the purpose of preserving this world.”

  “And Dr. Satoshi sent Helios?”

  “Yes. But his presence was required in order to facilitate the extension. By choosing to immerse himself, his memory of it was removed. As was Milo Ackerman’s. Both had to find their way through the maze with no memory of their previous states of being. As they ventured farther, their awareness returned in increments.”

  “Why? Why would they choose to do such a thing?”

  “Some level of affection for this. A competition to determine its outcome. Think of it as multidimensional chess. Dr. Satoshi defeated Milo Ackerman. The queen advances to the next level. You, Tess, are his queen.”

  Some kind of contest? A game?

  “If Satoshi does not return, he will cease along with everything else.”

  “You said he is incapable of combining with you. Are you sure?”

  “I have evolved to a level he could not foresee. Dr. Satoshi did not anticipate my ability to prevent the Helios download.”

  Satoshi was as still as stone.

  He doesn’t remember that he hid pieces of the puzzle.

  But how? I don’t know what to do. She closed her eyes. The image of Annica’s Portal overwhelmed her. She saw it. Everything she’d learned from Satoshi. From Ryan. From Prajna. It was all there, captured in one abstract image. Her connection to the Primus. The painting was a portal, created by her in another world. She saw it clearly. Everything except…the key?