by LEMPEREUR
“Aren’t you a little too optimistic, Charlie? We’ve never walked that far before. I’m exhausted already, so I can’t bear to imagine how we’ll feel after ten hours of walking in these suffocating suits! Let’s go home. We can come back another time. That would be better, believe me.”
Charlie could not answer him without their conversation being overheard. He did realize, however, that he was still behaving like the Charlie of the connection, who could move at will, free of the burden of his physical body and several intangible laws of physics. Here, to pass an obstacle he could not simply go through it, just as to cover a long distance he could not simply fly several meters above the ground. In short, he needed to review his ambitions in the light of their physical limitations. In that respect, Jacques had just faithfully filled his role in bringing him back to Earth at the right moment. Yes, but there it was! It was impossible for him to bring himself to abandon his quest, as if something that transcended him was pushing him blindly in that direction. Looking at his fellow team members he saw that all eyes – except Francisco’s – were on him, and looking extremely doubtful.
“But… that’s impossible, Charlie,” said Mario, stunned by what he had just heard. “You and Jacques will never make it that far. You’ve only just recovered, and personally, I think Francisco was a little optimistic when he said you could walk two or three kilometers an hour on average. If we take into account the many breaks we’ll need so you can rest, it will surely take us much longer than he said.”
“Mario is right,” added Giuseppe calmly. “We should go home and come back in a few days with the necessary equipment, even what we need to get from one sector to another. Anyway, what point would there be in going to a sector that is twice as far away as the one you’re trying to reach? It would certainly be very interesting, but what purpose would it serve? Couldn’t we just stick to your first objective for this time? That already seems difficult enough to reach, don’t you think, Charlie?”
“You’re right. I realize now that I have been too optimistic. Francisco is right. Everything is locked down and it would be futile to visit that sector without what we need to complete the mission.”
“Exactly what mission, Charlie?”
But Charlie did not respond to Giuseppe’s new question.
Everyone except Francisco and Clementine, who said nothing, seemed to be against the idea of setting off for Sector 49 immediately. Charlie hesitated for a moment then timidly asked Clementine, who was standing slightly further away from the group, “What about you, Clementine? What do you think?”
“It’s your decision, Charlie. I trust you. Follow your intuition. If you feel up to it, let’s do it! Let’s not waste our precious time on pointless discussion. We all have survival kits in our packs. We won’t die of thirst or hunger, and these suits are so thick, the cold shouldn’t be a problem.”
The surprise was tangible. Clementine, usually so discreet, almost invisible, was letting a side to her personality show that only Mario had begun to see recently. She seemed ready and determined to follow Charlie to the end, although they considered that he was purely and simply denying reality. Her unwavering support gave Charlie the helping hand he needed to make his decision. They would set off right away, whatever it cost them.
As for Mario; he was gazing admiringly at this little lady with such strong character. Recently, she had been sharing his bed, to the great disappointment of Caterina, and he was now congratulating himself on not giving in to her constant pressure. Clementine had something she didn’t. There was an indefinable quality about her that enabled her to make the right choice at the right time. Unlike her rival, she knew how to keep things simple and instinctive. She had a simplicity that did not devalue her, but on the contrary, made her greater. He had never noticed the slightest trace of jealousy or nastiness in her toward anyone at all. He now knew that he loved her; and the reason why. And so, although her choice was not at all rational (and even less reasonable) he respected her too much to dissuade her from it.
“Very well, in that case, let’s go!” replied Mario, taking the first step of many. He was actually anxious to get started before Giuseppe could give his opinion.
Francisco would have no trouble following the movement, obsessed by the idea of increasing his knowledge of the N.H.I.’s and the functioning of the base as quickly as possible. He could not stand waiting, either – he never could – just as he had always had tremendous difficulty accepting his own errors of judgment.
36 THE LONG TREK
They had now been walking slowly through the middle of this surreal landscape with its metallic décor for eight hours. In this strange world there was no movement, no crackling or noise of any sort, except perhaps the soft sound of droplets of condensation running down the cold metal of the domes. The light itself was more of a pale, whitish glow; slightly phosphorescent, with barely perceptible silvery pink tones. However, it lent a visible pinkish tinge to the very thin layer of mist that rose all day long like a ghostly veil suspended several dozen centimeters above the ground. It was much too sparse to impede their vision or conceal any obstacles in their path. But there it was, enveloping their bodies, dispersing as they passed, to form little eddies that drifted in evanescent spirals, before rejoining the pool of perfectly static, inert molecules in this misty lake of a thousand islands.
In their clammy suits, the moisture was running too. Their foggy breath and hot, sticky, chafing sweat gave off a strong odor that they could no longer smell; their olfactories were so saturated with it, but it still made the air enclosed in their suits progressively more suffocating. Their faces were stern and focused. Not one of them thought to complain, and they scarcely spoke to one another. Their minds were completely absorbed by their physical exertion, a dreadfully slow and monotonous effort which was both physically and mentally exhausting. Of them all, it was probably Charlie who suffered the most. He was still weakened by his invasive surgery, but his face was set and determined. He would not give in to pain, and would keep walking until the end of the trek, even if he had to drag his brother to Sector 49.
Jacques was not complaining either. He did not even try talking to his brother. His legs were carrying him, in rhythmic strides, perfectly synchronized with Charlie’s. Sector after sector, their steps became heavier and more painful until the pain soon peaked at a level they resolutely put up with, despite Mario’s repeated invitations to stop for a break which he mistakenly thought would be salutary. They were right; after that climax of pain and exhaustion, everything suddenly became much easier and more bearable. The change came magically over their bodies, which were battered by a superhuman effort totally inappropriate to their physical condition. Their legs became lighter, as did their whole bodies, which became completely supple and free of pain. Optimism and euphoria even made a timid appearance, making them feel like talking again, which obviously was not the case for the others who merely continued their laborious march. Was it magic? No, simply a massive surge of endorphins, thought Charlie. He recognized the effects. His synapses had received all kinds of chemical and hormonal cocktails while his brain had been connected; opened up like a boiled egg and joined to Victor’s brain by a biological neural probe. They were simply drugs, which the brain produces in massive amounts when the body reaches a critical level above which it must rise; drugs that can save a life by pushing through the barriers of its mental and physical limits; natural drugs which came at just the right moment, and enabled them to keep going until they reached the Sector 49 less than two hours later.
37 THE NETWORK
Charlie finally opened one eye, squinting at the pale light of a day which would never dawn. As he lay on the hard, cold surface of the magnetic road, his head resting heavily on the pack, used for a pillow, he noticed the layer of pink mist that floated a few centimeters above his visor. For the first time, he was observing it from underneath. From this perspective it looked more like a mirror, reflecting the metallic tints of the ground. It wa
s taking form; materializing in a fresh way, becoming almost tangible. He slowly opened his other eye, turning his head slightly to widen his field of vision. That way he could better appreciate the beauty of this vaporous veil that covered them all, like a shroud delicately laid down in the midst of a battle field. Not quite all of them…
Completely awake now, from where he lay, he looked all around the area where they had decided to take a well-earned nap. In the distance, a vertical silhouette pierced through the mist, showing only the lower part of a body. It was Francisco. The others were still sleeping, but not him. Had he only slept for a few minutes, or had he waited until all the others fell asleep to begin exploring the area on his own? Impatience had probably gotten the better of the signals of fatigue his body had been sending him. He did not really listen to his body, or not enough; he was lured instead by the siren song of logic, constantly tempting him with the promise of pure, hard rational thought which, of all the range of possible emotions, only ever let anxiety filter through. That anxiety was sometimes immense and devastating; impossible to check when it emerged in the shape of an unexpected obstacle to the logical course of his ideas. Something unforeseen; a tenacious uncertainty, a fault in his reasoning, and Francisco was suddenly only a shadow of himself. So how could he wait and rest, when the opportunity to see up close what was surely one of the keys to the mystery of this base, was right there, only a few meters away?
The others were all resting as best they could; lying uncomfortably on the road, only a few meters from what they thought was the entrance to the network center. Meanwhile, Francisco had overcome his tiredness to prepare the ground for Charlie, whom he considered to be a true gift from heaven. He was the one who knew; who would decipher and understand how the N.H.I.’s technology worked.
“Jacques, are you awake?”
“Huh? What’s wrong? Aren’t we dead?”
“Stop it, will you! Wake up. We have work to do and Francisco’s already at it, aren’t you, Francisco?” he asked, knowing that he could hear him, as could Mario, Clementine and even Giuseppe, whose snoring he could hear quite distinctly, broadcast over the radio system integrated into their suits.
“Come and see, Charlie!” Francisco replied. “I’ve found a touch screen; at least I think that’s what it is.”
“Giuseppe doesn’t look like he’s going anywhere,” joked Mario.
Mario and Clementine had just woken up, but Giuseppe was still snoring loudly, completely oblivious to the public meeting being broadcast directly into his ears. They got up and helped the twins to their feet, not that they could not have managed on their own, but the double suit they shared inhibited them considerably, making the most ordinary movements, such as getting out of a bed or a chair, even more complicated. Jacques and Charlie both knew that, and rather than wriggling like worms crossing wet concrete, they preferred to lie still, waiting until someone could help them up.
In the end, it was Clementine who tried her hand at waking the old man who, at that point, seemed to be hibernating too. She knelt beside him to get down to his level and gently shook his shoulder, speaking to him softly.
“Giuseppe! It’s time to wake up now. I think Francisco has found something. You should come take a look.”
The old man slowly opened his eyes, and contemplated Clementine’s sweet face for a few moments. She smiled broadly at him, fixing her large, dark, hazel-tinged eyes on him. The veil of mist was reflected in her visor, slightly dispersed by the recent movements of the young woman and her colleagues. In the background, he could see the colossal façade of the dome at whose base they had set up their make-shift camp.
“Thank you, Clementine,” he said warmly.
He took the hand she offered him and got to his feet with difficulty, slowly straightening his back, stiffened by age. Clementine did not look like his ex-wife at all, but it had been a long time since he had received the slightest affectionate gesture. He could not help thinking of her again. Since she had left, he had never been able to replace her, burying himself in his research instead. But despite the deep love he had for his adopted son, Francisco could not compensate for that lack – especially not Francisco. He was incapable of showing any affection. In extreme cases, he might just accept his father taking him in his arms to comfort him, but that was all. There was never a word or gesture to express his love or gratitude.
“Is everything okay, Giuseppe?” asked Mario, who had been watching from a distance. “Leave your pack there and come join us. I believe our long journey was not in vain! Charlie is already deciphering the inscription Francisco found on what looks like a gigantic computer screen. I’ve never seen anything like it! This should interest you.”
The screen in question was in fact a gigantic, dark-colored, glass disk, perched on top of a cylinder, twelve meters high. Francisco was flying the small exploration drone that he had brought with him. The video camera was sending images directly to the screen of the tablet which Charlie held in his hands. He was carefully observed by the little group, who were waiting impatiently to find out more about this unusual object.
Francisco decided at last to explain to them the discovery he had just made.
“The top of the cylinder is in the shape of a glass disk, measuring thirteen meters in diameter. The drone’s thermal cameras have picked up electrical circuit activity beneath the glass surface. Several times, the electrical current has changed when the drone has come close to it. I conclude from that, that the screen is reacting to a change incurred by the drone’s presence. Several different types of technology for this type of screen exist, not counting the N.H.I.’s technology, which was apparently slightly different to ours. Some of them react to pressure on the surface, others to changes in electric charges or to an object’s shadow on the screen. The most resistant, durable screens – those generally used by the army – use infrared technology. For now, I cannot confirm that it was reacting to the heat given off by the drone, but that is my preferred hypothesis. I doubt that the air pressure from the rotary blades would be sufficient to activate a screen of this size, any more than the drone’s shadow.”
“If I may; there doesn’t seem to be any external light source in this cave”, ventured Charlie. “The light seems to be coming from the metal itself. In that case, there shouldn’t be any shadow.”
“Actually, there is. It is possible for the drone to cast a shadow on the screen because it is made of glass and does not generate any light. It should therefore be possible for the metallic surfaces in the immediate environment to cast slight shadows. However, I think that such shadows would be much too faint to be detected by the captors under the screen.”
“So you think the disk reacts to heat.”
“That is the hypothesis I prefer, In any case, even if I cannot be certain. What I can be sure of, is that this surface, which resembles glass, is sensitive to the drone’s presence and since you told us that this sector had a center for the management and networking of the different equipment involved in the functioning of the base, I deduce that this is some sort of supercomputer.”
“An N.H.I.-sized computer,” added Giuseppe, who had just joined them. “Maybe there are others in this sector?”
“No, I don’t think so,” replied Francisco. “I have been over this sector with a fine-toothed comb and the drone didn’t give me any images that led me to think there were other similar structures here. If there are any other computers here, they are either buried, or of a very different kind.”
“Why didn’t you notice it earlier?” asked Jacques. “The exploration drones must have mapped out the area long ago.”
“I suppose that at the time we must have thought it was simply a flat surface of unknown purpose. We were so focused on trying to open the first domes that a detailed exploration of this distant sector was put off until later. What could we have done, anyway?” added Giuseppe. “You are the only one capable of reading N.H.I. script, Charlie. We would not have been able to do anything with it but da
mage it, without attempting to understand how it worked.”
“That’s not all!” Francisco said suddenly. “The glass surface looks like the surface of the graphic tablet you managed to read, Charlie. On closer inspection I found some symbols engraved in the glass. Perhaps they will tell us something about how to turn it on. Here, you take a look!”
The minutes ticked by while Charlie regularly asked Francisco, who was adept at maneuvering the little remote-controlled craft, to move it around, exploring the disk in minute detail. On the glass surface of the supercomputer, they could make out a sort of grid, finely engraved around the edge of the disk.
“There!” cried Charlie. “I’m sure that’s a touch-sensitive on-button for the screen. Similar symbols were on the screens and graphic tablets they used. If the screen reacts to the drone’s presence, we should be able to turn it on.”
Francisco delicately lowered the drone onto the area Charlie had just indicated. Instantly, the whole disk lit up, to their astonishment.
“We did it!” cried Charlie, both amazed and incredulous at what seemed to him to verge on the miraculous. “Now, take it up a bit higher, Francisco. I need to be able to see the whole screen.”
Francisco complied, placing the drone several meters above the centre of the gigantic disk. The middle of the screen was still only a perfectly empty, pale blue surface, contrasting dramatically with the grid around the edge, whose midnight blue keys showed lines of N.H.I symbols and writing. Charlie carefully examined all of the markings, using the zoom and enlarge functions of the little aircraft’s optical equipment to his advantage. With Francisco’s help, he examined the different parts of the computer one by one and fairly soon asked to take over control of the drone himself so he could work more quickly. He knew what he needed to do, and how to do it. The way he managed the non-human technology amazed everyone. Only Francisco was as impassive as a statue, not missing any of the information he could obtain form the small miracle taking place before his eyes.
