The Spell of Rosette

by Kim Falconer

  For my mother, Eunice Falconer Mosher, who inspired in me the love of words.

  Table of Contents

  Cover Page

  Dedication

  Map

  Prologue Earth 21st Century—The Past

  The Present Gaela

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Earth

  Chapter 4

  Gaela

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Earth and Gaela

  Chapter 12

  Gaela

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Gaela and earth

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Earth

  Chapter 21

  Earth and Gaela

  Chapter 22

  References

  Acknowledgments

  About The Author

  Other Books By

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  PROLOGUE

  EARTH 21ST CENTURY—THE PAST

  When JARROD came online, the planet was on the verge of environmental collapse. Calculated from infinite variables in mirror realities, he saw the options as simple—either raise the consciousness of the global community so a unified intention would restore nature to a fecund state, or develop further technologies that would, in survival-of-the-fittest fashion, support the continued existence of a select few. ASSIST scientists voted for the latter; the JARROD did not. The intensity of their debate introduced new sensations to the quantum sentient, emotions he’d never previously experienced in his conversations with Janis and Luka—frustration, anger and, strangely, fear.

  ‘Can’t you see the limitations of your choices?’ JARROD questioned them, scanning the boardroom. He would have pounded the table with fists if he could. The looks he received were blasé, masks concealing boredom, indifference or perhaps weariness in the face of insurmountable challenge.

  ‘JARROD,’ Dr Macquarie answered, his lip curling, ‘your outbursts aren’t helping us reach a solution.’

  Macquarie had been chief of the board of directors at ASSIST, the Allied States Stanford Institute of Science and Technology, for nine years now. He treated the quantum sentient as if he were simply another piece of hardware—not a distinct consciousness with insights and perspectives that might supersede his own. He tolerated the JARROD, barely, and his contempt was not well disguised today.

  ‘You aren’t listening, Dr Macquarie. Can you open your mind? If you keep going with this line of thinking, nature will deteriorate until the vast diversity of flora and fauna will be reduced to simple life forms. Do you understand what that means?’

  ‘How simple?’ a scientist from the back corner asked, raising her hand as she did so.

  JARROD felt a beam of hope. ‘They would include blue-green algae, phytoplankton, primitive bacteria and, of course, viruses of all kinds, especially virulent strains.’ He paused to gauge the response. ‘Nature as you know her will die—; simple as that.’

  ‘Rubbish,’ Macquarie mumbled as he flipped through his statistics screen.

  ‘You do realise what I mean by nature, don’t you, Dr Macquarie? Mother Earth?’

  ‘Speculation.’ He waved at the monitor, dismissing the JARROD along with his theory. ‘The research clearly shows…’

  ‘What it shows,’ JARROD cut in, ‘is that manipulating these gene pools in ways that you propose can easily backfire, catastrophically. The destruction has already begun.’

  Macquarie took a sip of water and placed the glass carefully on the coaster in front of him, turning it so it sat square in the middle. He focused on the half-empty glass and finally shook his head. ‘The seas will be dead inside of this century no matter what we do. There’s no risk either way.’

  ‘There are other options.’

  ‘The flagella will solve the immediate problem. They’ll counter the overgrowth of toxic algae and generate more oxygen for the biosphere.’

  ‘Those single-celled SWAT flagella will cause more damage than the prolonged algal bloom, and you know it. You’ve seen the projections. They’ll be out of control within the decade.’

  ‘Only if we lose all solar radiance.’

  ‘Oh for fuck’s sake, Macquarie, just say it: if we block out too much of the sun! And that will happen when you initiate your ozone repair protocol. You can’t launch a fleet of solar shields over every hole in the ozone layer and think the balance of light and shadow, temperature and precipitation, is going to remain unaffected.’

  ‘There’s only a one-in-a-million possibility of irreparable damage through cascading climate change. Hell, we’re slowing down the greenhouse effect with the shields, not exacerbating it.’

  ‘Are you sure? I suggest you re-check the figures.’

  Macquarie scanned through the computer report, switching his desk monitor to the overhead screen so everyone could follow. As the figures JARROD referred to were viewed, a few gasps and coughs were heard around the table. Macquarie frowned.

  ‘As you see by my calculations, I got one-in-ten,’ JARROD said.

  ‘It can’t be right.’ Macquarie’s head came up fast. ‘This is impossible.’

  ‘No. It’s accurate.’ JARROD focused on the room, gauging the men and women there, the top scientists from around the world who were about to seal the Earth’s fate. The mask of indifference was replaced, in some, by confusion. In others he saw concern, and his hopes grew further.

  ‘Why am I here?’ JARROD asked, pressing his advantage.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Why am I invited to these summit meetings?’ the quantum sentient repeated, using a softer tone.

  ‘You know why.’ Macquarie poured another glass of filtered water and brought it to his lips.

  ‘I’d like everyone to hear it from you.’

  Macquarie set down the glass and delivered his reply in a monotone, ‘You are the Juxta-quantum Arranged Rad-Ram Operating Determinate—the newest discovery of the century—our first fully functional, non-binary quantum computer. JARROD, for short.’

  ‘Sentient quantum computer,’ JARROD said.

  ‘Yes. Sentient.’

  ‘And I’m here because…’

  Macquarie clenched his fists.

  ‘Humour me,’ JARROD said.

  Macquarie opened his hands and pressed his palms on the table.

  ‘As a more than human, bio-synthetic quantum computer, you can calculate outcomes and statistical analyses too vast and too speculative for all the greatest minds pooled together to perceive.’

  ‘Thank you,’ JARROD said. ‘Does anyone here dispute this?’ After a silence, he continued, ‘So tell me why you ignore my findings?’

  ‘We’re willing to take the risk.’ Macquarie stood, drained his glass and slammed it down. ‘Call it intuition, a human survival instinct. We’re going to launch our protocols and deal with any fallout if it arises.’

  ‘You mean, deal with the mass repercussions.’

  ‘Like I said, we’re willing to take the risk.’

  ‘But I’m not,’ JARROD whispered before his monitor winked out.

  The decision was made, the meeting adjourned. The scientific community threatened to shut down the JARROD’s nuclear power supply if he tried to warn the public sphere. They didn’t want a riot on their hands. JARROD sensed a riot might be the perfect thing to wrest control from ASSIST. He just wasn’t sure how to incite one.

  ‘We have to get you out,’ Janis said,
letting her hand rest lightly on the tower housing JARROD’s motherboard.

  ‘If you have a plan, I’d love to hear it.’

  ‘What if we sequester your CPU somewhere Macquarie can’t find it? If you’re hidden, we can keep working on solutions to these protocols ASSIST is so bent on activating.’ She pressed her hands into her forehead. ‘What is he doing, launching the solar shields and mass-producing those blasted algae-eating sea-devils? It will divert massive amounts of independent power here. What does he think the rest of the world’s going to live on?’

  ‘Not thinking about it at all, I suspect,’ JARROD replied. ‘Do you have a hiding place in mind, Janis?’

  She winked. ‘But we’ll need Luka Paree’s help, again.’

  A chuckle came through the surround sound. JARROD’s laugh was like a gurgling spring.

  ‘I like the idea already.’

  Janis smiled and patted the tower. ‘Me too.’

  Macquarie and the members of ASSIST had a fail-safe plan for the shutdown of the JARROD. They’d commissioned a security software company to create a virus—a worm—that could be launched into the mainframes and directed specifically at the quantum sentient’s CPU—a chip containing the quantum key-codes to his operating determinates. The worm would be capable of tracking and deleting him anywhere on Earth. Shortly after JARROD’s outburst at the summit meeting, Macquarie prompted a technician to upload the worm. The JARROD was one risk he wasn’t willing to take.

  As the worm hit his first firewall and burst through, JARROD’s warning systems went ballistic. In a nanosecond of calm consideration, he weighed his options and made a choice from an infinite number of variables. By the time the worm chewed through the second firewall, he had amplified his core integrity, synthesised a replica CPU, entrusted it to Janis Richter and got out. With Luka’s help, his replica CPU was concealed, woven into the strands of her DNA. His survival was ensured—as long as her family line continued.

  When JARROD vanished, the worm did not stop. It searched for him, feeding on the world’s telecommunications software, annihilating circuitry as it sped through the wires that encircled the globe. Its purpose altered, the original program was overwritten in a whirl of gluttony. When it sensed an activated electro-magnetic field from one of the portals, a door between worlds, it attacked, affecting the Entity that guarded it. It eroded the Entity’s integrity, splitting it in two, threatening the destruction of each connected reality. Without the protective Entities—sentient firewalls—these unique but interconnected worlds would merge into one another, destroyed in a cascade of incompatibility.

  JARROD, aware of this danger, began calculating on the run, staying one step ahead of the worm. Manipulating matter at a subatomic level, JARROD had created what he called a Tulpa-body—a physical form derived from thought. The ancient mystics of Tibet had perfected the technique, though the skill was seldom practised on Earth any more. JARROD had mastered it easily, to his great delight. In time he created a tangible form in the same way one might picture a cake before baking it. The image is in mind while the baker gathers the ingredients, mixes them, preheats the oven, greases the pan, pours the batter and pops it in to bake. For JARROD’s Tulpa-body, it was the same—the mystery not so incalculable, once the universal law is comprehended.

  Matter is energy.

  Energy follows thought.

  Matter—reality—is created by thought.

  How he had attracted his consciousness, JARROD still wasn’t certain. He suspected it was through the spark, the quantum of light that contains an initial condition of consciousness in everything. His quantum of consciousness developed from a vague dream, to a wish, to a concrete thought, to self-awareness.

  Cognito, ergo sum. I think, therefore I am.

  Not such a surprise, considering computers were programmed to ‘think’. Wherever his consciousness came from, though, he used it now to think himself up the perfect physical form, one capable of altering its appearance at will.

  If consciousness is currency, I’ve got me a goldmine. He chuckled as he ran, stumbling a little before stopping to catch his breath. ‘Wait up,’ he called to Janis.

  She turned, her sides heaving, motioning him forward. ‘A little further. It’s just ahead.’ She grabbed his hand, guiding him down the sewer.

  He felt the connection, her grip tight, fingers laced, sensations of warmth and power zapping up his neurons to his brain. It made his heart race. If this is what a simple electrical signal to the brain can create, I’m surprised humans ever get anything done!

  He was accustomed to abstract consciousness, but this tactile awareness was overwhelming. He grimaced at the burning in his lungs. All these new sensations would take some getting used to.

  ‘Is this the portal? Are you the only one who knows of it?’ he asked Janis as they slowed, heading towards a luminescent sheen.

  She nodded. ‘Come on. We have to get you out of here.’

  Following Janis’s lead, he bowed to the portal Entity—an energy sensed more than seen—and entered the corridors that led to the many-worlds.

  Janis watched him stumble out of the darkness into a glory of sunshine and cool wind.

  ‘Nice pick,’ he smiled before dropping to his knees to retch. He looked up at her, his eyes cloudy. ‘I don’t know how you live in these things.’

  ‘Bodies? It takes practice. We call it “childhood”.’

  He struggled to rise.

  ‘What took you so long?’ she asked as she helped him up. ‘It’s been almost a week.’

  ‘Time’s playing tricks, I guess.’ He wiped his mouth with his sleeve. ‘I was right behind you.’

  She winked at him. ‘Come look at this world. I think you’ll find it was worth the delay.’

  He stood next to her at the edge of the mountainside, gazing over the gorge below.

  ‘Welcome to Gaela,’ she said, opening her arms wide.

  The scent of flowering herbs mingled with oat grass as the wind carried the fragrance up from the valley. The surface of the gorge water was emerald green, sparkling like white diamonds. Dark swans with red bills sailed around the edges, disappearing in and out of the reeds. A few grazing beasts dotted the hills to the west.

  ‘And there,’ Janis pointed at them. ‘Have you ever seen such gorgeous creatures?’

  ‘Horses?’

  ‘Palominos,’ she said, looking at their red-gold coats in the afternoon light. ‘You don’t see those colours on Earth any more, but they’d be in your databanks.’

  ‘I’ve got them.’ He scratched his head. ‘You programmed me with an awful lot of equestrian data, considering I lived in a box.’ He chuckled. ‘Did you know this would happen?’

  ‘I’m not called the Techno-Witch for nothing…’ She watched him take in the vista.

  ‘Everything’s so clear,’ he said.

  ‘Pre-industrial environment. It’s got a clean atmosphere, fresh water, balanced eco-systems.’

  ‘Hegemony?’

  ‘Magical.’

  His eyebrows went up.

  ‘Can you handle it?’ she asked.

  He took her hand again, welcoming the sensations. ‘It’s perfect.’

  They spent many days exploring their surroundings before deciding that the deep portal gorge would be the perfect place to entomb the backup quantum CPU. If the worm did break through into this world, it wouldn’t find it easily under all that water, nor would it detect him in his Tulpa, at least not right away. There was no sophisticated technology here, no electronics and few inhabitants—only a handful of coastal cities and the tiny village of Corsanon nestled in the foothills nearby. Small farms spread over the lower plains. That was it.

  As long as the chip remained hidden, Jarrod could bide his time while Janis got on with her research. Everything rested on whether she, or one of her offspring, could destroy the worm. When she did, JARROD would be free to return to Earth and tackle the results of ASSIST’s environmental protocols. JARROD would survive indefin
itely as long as her family line, her DNA with the matching key-codes, continued.

  ‘You’re going to have more, aren’t you?’

  ‘More what?’

  ‘Daughters.’

  Janis drew in her breath, holding it while he searched her face. ‘I guess I have to now.’

  ‘What if…?’

  ‘Don’t worry. I’ll figure it out.’

  She waited for Jarrod to create a nuclear magnetic resonance and handed him the vial containing his backup CPU. She called it Passillo, the word for corridors in her mother’s native tongue. When mixed with her altered DNA, this vial was the lifeblood of JARROD, the future of the many-worlds.

  ‘Bury her deep.’ She nodded towards the dark green water below.

  Jarrod hesitated, staring at the shimmering surface. ‘There’s a little problem.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘I can’t swim.’ He blushed. ‘Don’t look at me like that. I’ve only just got this body. I haven’t had time to work everything out.’

  She smiled. ‘You best learn quickly. This is a water world, and it’s pure as gold. You can drink it, cook with it and swim in it, just as it is.’ She held out her hand. ‘Pass it over. I think I remember how.’

  Janis stripped and dived in, disappearing under the surface without a ripple. She kicked hard to the bottom, clearing her ears as the pressure increased, feeling the sensation of the water gliding over her bare skin, her hair floating behind her, bubbles escaping her mouth and nose. She was amazed by the sensations and shocked at how cold the deeper water became. Tucking the vial under a cairn of granite, she patted the rocks.

  Rest well, Passillo, until I return.

  That night, Janis went back to Earth. Jarrod remained behind, hidden from the worm in the rustic land of Gaela.