by Paul Edwards
Chapter eight
Peter, Widdle and I were in a large white walled room with a hardwood floor, the floor was covered with numerous beautifully woven circular rugs. All around us were large exotic potted plants amidst comfortable modern sofas. The walls were covered with replica's of ancient fresco's and wall paintings.
They were all Assyrian.
"Miss Ramirez will see you now," said a smartly dressed young woman.
The young woman led us through a door into a brightly lit office, the far wall was made of a huge glass window looking out over a beautifully manicured garden.
I noticed more Assyrian wall paintings, they appeared to be genuine this time. There was a large desk to our right, it was situated so the person behind it could see the garden when they were working as well as being able to see who entered the room.
Semiramis looked up from behind the desk.
"Sit down," she said impatiently. She waved her hand towards four large chairs situated in front of her desk.
She finished typing something on a laptop, waited for a few seconds then folded down the screen bringing her head up.
"I must say, I am surprised to see you... I thought the City deserted," she said.
"It isn't anymore," I replied.
She stared at me, her eyes narrowed slightly.
"You are familiar to me... Kemamonit I believe, were you cursed with a time spell as well?"
"It's a long story."
"You cannot stop me... I will destroy everything if you try."
"Why? Why do you want to do this... you are in a new era... things are so different," Widdle asked.
"It is unimportant... just know, I have been here for three years, I have spent much time studying the new maths and alchemies. I am the equal to any sorcerer."
She snapped her fingers and a green glow surrounded her form.
"My personal shield is impenetrable, even to the rays of gamma."
"This is crazy... they have discovered ways to sail the void... you could see the stars," I said exasperated.
"So prepare your vessel... I will not stop you."
"This has something to do with Imhotep doesn't it?" I said.
Semiramis's body stiffened suddenly, a fury of anger lit up her face. She turned her head and stared at me her eyes narrow and unblinking.
"He is dead... thousands of years now... he cannot save you, now leave."
"Well so much for that," Peter said as we walked through Hoving Aerospace's large corporate campus.
"It's so odd... irrational... conquering a planet," I said.
I looked around the campus as we walked, everywhere there was foliage, even the buildings had garden's on their roof's as well as vine draped balconies.
"This whole campus is built like an ancient city," Peter said.
"Ya... even fountains everywhere," I said as we walked past a large stone fountain in the shape of some ancient god.
"How come you didn't do that... you know... bring the past with you?" Widdle asked.
"Well... there are things I missed... but this was a new start for me, I could become someone else, forget all my horrible mistakes... well sorta."
"I think I know what you mean... my grandfather told me that when he immigrated that he changed, he stopped thinking of himself as Polish, he still ate Polish food and spoke the language, but he watched baseball, celebrated the fourth of July, viewed the world as an American" Peter said.
"There is something going on with her and Imhotep... I can't help thinking it's the reason behind her weird compulsion to conquer the world," I said.
"You had a long talk with him a few months ago... what did he say?"
"Not a lot... he seemed kind of scared of her... and infatuated... that's probably why he didn't kill her."
Peter looked at me with a sideways glance raising an eyebrow.
"I think you mean he loved her," he said.
"Hmph... guy's are always confusing infatuation with love. I have a question for you Mr. Widdle, on another subject, how did Newfellow figure out intelligence, what's the secret?"
Widdle looked at me.
"It was stupid really, it was that paradox... the barber shaves everyone that doesn't shave himself... who shaves the barber?"
"The umm... other barber?" I said.
"It's not meant to be solved... it's been used by mathematicians to prove the futility of certain things... except..."
"Except what?"
"What is it you call relativistic transitions... fissures... they can pass through each other without... or with... either being on the inside or the outside... they can be in the exact same place but still be in different places at the same time... they are instantaneous.
Newfellow wrote the paradox with fissures... but in such a way that it had to be solved, as if the poor barber constrained with logic was real... it's like the algorithm backed the paradox into a corner, forcing it to do something... the result was a tiny bit of consciousness."
I suddenly had an epiphany.
"A squiggle spell!!" I blurted out.
"Huh?" Widdle said.
"A few times... when I was writing really complicated spells... it usually happened late at night when I was tired and started making mistakes... I would activate them and they would not work right... behaved like they were insects."
"You created a tiny bit of life... that's something else Newfellow figured out... life and intelligence are the same thing."
