by Sam Lippert
“I am not the Neanderthal you think I am, Winette.” Nathan was feeling more at ease. Hotcakes tend to do that. “I understood all of that last night, maybe not in so many words, but nonetheless, the essence of what you just said was there, otherwise it wouldn’t have happened. It’s just that, at the moment of truth as it were, it actually felt as if Remi was there! Like I could see her in your eyes. It made me feel… I don’t know, like a jerk I guess. I like to give the woman I am with my full attention.”
Remi paled, making her normally caramel skin a greyish color. The conversation was straying dangerously close to topics she was honor-bound not to speak of. She opened her mouth intending to change the subject.
“That’s because she was there,” Winette said, causing the jaw of Remi’s already open mouth to drop still farther, practically hitting the table. “I am what they call a ‘selective telepath.’ Selective telepaths only experience the connection under very particular circumstances. For me, it is during sex. In this particular situation, I believe my closeness with Remini along with the love the two of you feel for each other created some sort of psychic bridge bringing the three of us together, and it was wonderful! Don’t you think, Sis?”
The Princess was now on the spot. She had her out. The perfect explanation that would both keep Omany’s secrets and explain the events of last night. All she had to do was take a deep breath, draw on all of her royal training, and tell a bald-face lie to two people she loved more than anything.
She had never been so happy to hear a collision avoidance alarm in her life.
“Nola,” Nathan shouted over the racket of the alarm. “Could you please kill the sound effects?” Nathan made no move to get up from the galley table, simply taking a sip of his coffee, which stopped his companions halfway to the door.
“Is this some kind of joke?” Remi asked.
“No joke Sis,” the AI reported in her most serious little girl voice. “Object detected at extreme sensor range. Collision in five minutes two-point-seven-three-eight seconds.”
“Nola,” Nathan said, still unmoving, swallowing another sip of coffee. “A collision in FTL is impossible. A ship in FTL creates a gravity well. If two ships get close enough to each other that a collision is possible, their gravitic displacement pulls them both back into normal space, where their motion is instantly so close to zero that they can’t collide.”
“That’s the point, Captain.” The AI responded. “There is an object ahead that sensors indicate is there, except it gives off no gravitic signature. It has plenty of mass, but it does not produce any gravitational displacement in space-time. Quite frankly, I don’t know what will happen as we approach. Will our gravity be enough to pull us both back into normal space? Tune in next week...”
“Nathan,” Remi interjected. “Shouldn’t we at least drop out of FTL?” It was odd for Nathan to be so nonchalant when his ship was in danger. “At least until we figure out what it is we are dealing with?”
“That’s just it. I know exactly what we are dealing with, and if we return to normal space we won’t get to deal with it at all.” He tried to suppress a smile, but he could not.
“Collision in one minute, thirty seconds.” Nola replaced the avatar on one of her screens with a countdown. “It’s been nice knowing you guys. You were swell.”
“There will be no collision, Nola, although you are welcome to keep the count on the screen. If you are going to do so, please adjust it to represent our contact with the center of mass of the object.” Fifteen seconds were added to the count.
“Captain,” Winette was remarkably formal considering the activities of the previous night. “Should we not, at least, go up to the control room where we can keep an eye on what’s going on?”
“You and Remi are welcome to, but I have found it is a lot less disconcerting if you don’t watch.”
“I wish I didn’t have to watch!” Nola whined. “This thing is freaking huge! It looks almost like a moon or a planet or something. Scary as hell given our relative speed!” Remi and Winette finally rejoined Nathan at the table. “Holy crap! We are almost to the surface. If I had pants I would be peeing them about… Now!” As the countdown clock reached fifteen seconds everything went dead and the room was plunged into total darkness, without even an emergency light.
“Nola?” Remi asked. “What’s going on?”
“She won’t be able to answer you. Electron based technology doesn’t work here. She will be fine once we leave. At least I think she will be. I hadn’t really thought about the possible effects on her. Still getting used to having an AI aboard.” The familiar vibrations of Nola’s FTL drive was replaced by something very different. Something that was almost a noise, as well as a true feeling of forward motion.
“Humans have been exploring this section of the galaxy for a few hundred years. How many cultures have we discovered with technology that exceeded ours, to any appreciable extent?” Nathan asked.
“Although the ruins of an advanced civilization archeologists refer to as the G’dowen have been found scattered throughout the quadrant, we have yet to discover any living civilization of a technology level even equivalent to ours, let alone exceeding it.” Remi answered.
“Any idea why?” Nathan prodded.
“Current theory is that, in a given sector of space, there is only room for one technologically advanced civilization at any given point in time. That civilization retains its dominance either by absorbing other cultures in the sector, or by stunting their technological growth, either inadvertently or on purpose. As near as we can tell, the G’dowen were the last to dominate this region of space, and although there is some evidence that they visited Old Earth in the ancient past, Humanity was just getting started when their civilization fell, essentially making room for us.” Remi finished, then her eyes opened wide and her jaw nearly dropped a second time as she started to fathom what was going on. “Nathan, is this…”
“The last active remains of the G’dowen civilization that we are capable of perceiving?” Nathan chuckled. “That is exactly it. They left this conduit into our reality when they ‘transcended,’ for lack of a better word. Essentially, they transported their entire civilization onto a completely different plane of existence. You might even call it a parallel universe. Since this sphere is an overlap between the two planes, only those physical laws that are compatible between the planes can operate, hence the shutdown of all electronics when we crossed into the bubble.”
“Speaking of which,” Winette remarked. “The air is starting to get a little stuffy.” No sooner than her statement was finished the barely perceptible forward movement of the ship stopped, and gravity returned, gently so as not to cause anyone harm.
“We’re here.” Nathan said. He was glad he could get around the Nola with his eyes closed, as that was essentially what he had to do now, since there was still no interior lighting. He stood, took Remi and Winette by the hand, and carefully led his little crew to the cargo bay, where he began lowering the ramp using the manual hand crank.
As soon as the ramp was cracked a powerful white light seeped in around its edges, washing over the cargo bay. Nathan stopped cranking. The light was not only blinding, it was so intense it could be heard, smelled, tasted and felt. Squinting, Daniels made his way to a cargo compartment and retrieved three pair of welding goggles for himself and the ladies. The goggles made the light bearable, at least on the eyes, but by the time the cargo ramp was all the way down, it was obvious that the nearly opaque lenses provided only the bare minimum of protection against the sensory onslaught.
The trio descended the ramp and were met at the bottom by a radiant being, perceptible only as a shimmer in the blinding light.
“Greetings, son of Nikolai, welcome once again to our ‘Place.’” The words were not heard, exactly, but were more felt as ripples in the surrounding light. “I see you have brought newcomers. In scanning their space-time imprint I see they are not Sons of Nikolai, and therefore are not bound
by our agreement. You should not have brought them here, son of Nikolai.”
“As per section seventeen, paragraph two, I vouch for their presence here, and agree that if they speak of this encounter outside of the limits of your Place, to anyone not bound by the agreement, my life stands forfeit. Please check their space-time imprints for evidence that they have maintained their side of the bargain, so we can get on with business.” Nathan was only a little bit nervous as he waited for the G’dowen to check Remi and Winette’s futures for evidence that they had not kept their silence.
“For the G’dowen,” Nathan explained to his companions. “What we think of as time appears similar to our other three dimensions, thus they are able to look at any object that appears in our space-time and inspect not only any aspect of its three-dimensional existence, but any point in that object’s past or future as well.”
“But the future hasn’t been determined yet.” Winette stated matter-of-factly. “Our lives are full of decision points. It’s generally known as free will. Are you trying to tell me that my life is predetermined? If you are, I refuse to accept it.”
“No, no, no, Winette!” Remi spoke up. “You find this concept throughout religious teachings. The individual always has free will, but when looked at from outside, say by a ‘higher power,’ it is possible to know all of the actions that will be taken by an individual. The easiest place to see this is in the Christian Gospels. Judas had the choice to whether to betray Jesus, even though Jesus already knew he would do it.”
“Very well, son of Nikolai,” the G’dowen spoke again. “You were right to trust these two. They will be treated as your brethren.
“Although we know what you bring to trade, as well as the final deal that will be struck for the cargo, we do also know of your need to ‘haggle’ in making a deal. Therefore, we initially offer twelve dozen of what you term ‘Magic Eight Balls’ and six dozen Life Crystals for your cargo.”
“Nathan,” Remi pulled him aside and asked in a half-whisper. “What do we have that an advanced civilization such as the G’dowen could possibly want? All we are carrying is the cargo we were given by Prescilla.”
“Exactly.” Nathan said, far less clandestinely than she had asked the question. “Two thousand seventy-three classic works of human fiction, printed on paper and bound in books. For obvious reasons the G’dowen have no use for the electronic versions that we are so fond of.”
“But I don’t understand…”
“Let me explain,” the G’dowen interrupted the Princess. “When we transcended to this plane of existence, we left behind a small portion of ourselves on thousands of worlds throughout the galaxy. On some, it has remained dormant, on others it merged with indigenous life, lifting one of the lifeforms to sentience.
“At the time, Earth, the home world of your species, had recently suffered from a huge asteroid strike that had wiped out most of the planet’s indigenous life. We saw this as a unique opportunity. There, a specifically coded sequence of genetic events was programmed that would lead to the evolution of Homo-Sapiens, a species as nearly identical to ourselves as we could manage. Because of this, we have a certain, er, attachment to you.”
“So, you like to read our stories?” Winette asked.
“Exactly,” the G’dowen replied. “Fiction reveals much about both the present and the past of a species, as does visual art and music. For those, like the Sons of Nikolai, who know how to find us, we trade for any of these items, but only in analog form.”
“Do you ever interact with our plane of existence directly?” Remi asked.
“That action is generally forbidden, however some of my kind have ‘reverse transcended,’ walked among you, and interacted with you, even to the point of being worshipped as gods. Those individuals, at a minimum, are never allowed to return, and in extreme cases they are punished, the events of their punishment taking place on your plane of existence. There have also been times where our council of elders has voted to intervene for, one might say, artistic reasons, for lack of a better term. Your space-time imprint suggests that you are (will be) familiar with some of our interventions.”
Remi opened her mouth to ask another question, but was interrupted, by Nathan.
“As per sub-section six, paragraph two-e of the agreement between the G’dowen and the Sons of Nikolai, the question limit has been reached. I suggest we get on with business.” Nathan had no idea how the G’dowen might react to a breach of the question protocol. With their ability to see time as a spatial dimension, a question limit was required to keep trade negotiations from breaking down, simply because of human curiosity about the future.
“Speaking of which,” Remi interjected. “I am familiar with the Magic Eight Ball, I had one as a kid. It’s a toy, originally produced on Old Earth, by a company called Mattel. You ask it a ‘yes-or-no’ question and it randomly gives you an answer. I have always believed it is rather heavily weighted towards positive answers, but, it’s fun to play with. However, even one hundred forty-four of them, don’t even come close to the value of our cargo of books…”
“Princess Remini,” the G’dowen addressed Remi as it started to explain. “As the Sons of Nikolai are aware, these are decidedly not toys. Although constructed to look like the one you played with as a child, these were created using our knowledge of space-time geometry and will always yield the correct answer.”
“Always?” The Princess asked, disbelievingly.
“Always,” the G’dowen replied, and Nathan was relieved that the question limit had been overlooked in this instance. “Would you like to try one for yourself?” The G’dowen produced a Magic Eight Ball and held it out to Remi.
“You were correct that the original toy was weighted away from negative answers. That being the case, as a test, I suggest you ask it a few questions for which you know the answer is no.”
The Princess took the proffered eight ball, and immediately began formulating questions.
“Is the universe made of marshmallow fluff?” She spoke the first question aloud, then turned the ball over to read its answer. Very doubtful was the answer the device provided.
“Am I male?” She continued. Don’t count on it, was the reply.
“Is Nathan an arachnid?” Outlook not so good.
“Am I dead?” My reply is no.
“Are my eyes blue?” Don’t count on it.
“Will I die tomorrow?” As soon as Remi spoke that question, Nathan reached out and snatched the ball away from her, and handed it back to the G’dowen.
“Certain questions shouldn’t be asked, Princess,” he said. “Suppose the Eight Ball said no? Would that cause you to take risks tomorrow that you wouldn’t normally take? How might those risks impact those around you, or you yourself? There are circumstances worse than death.”
“What about the other part of the deal?” Winette spoke up. “What is a ‘Life Crystal’?” The hand which had held the Magic Eight Ball moments before now held a necklace with a single blue crystal.
“The life crystal reads the space-time imprint of the wearer. It remains blue until thirty of your seconds before the wearer’s death, at which time it turns red.” Nathan was quick to explain the crystal’s function, so as not to further exceed the question limit set forth in the agreement.
“Thirty seconds?” the KII agent asked incredulously. “What the hell good is thirty seconds? That’s not enough time to change anything.”
“Seriously? Do the two of you not understand the meaning of ‘question limit?’” Nathan asked Winette and the Princess, rhetorically. The G’dowen shimmered in a way that resembled a chuckle.
“You are still thinking from the standpoint that an individual’s space-time imprint, as observed by us or one of our devices is actually amenable to change. It most assuredly is not. When this crystal turns red, the wearer will be dead in thirty seconds. The time frame is designed to allow the individual to make internal peace with the coming event. As the Son of Nikolai pointed out, know
ledge of your own death, or lack thereof, can affect how you interact with the universe, impacting the future of others…”
“But if the future is set, then it shouldn’t matter.” Winette interrupted. “You can’t have it both ways. If I can’t change the course that leads to my own death, then what I do with that knowledge can’t change the length or direction of anyone else’s ‘space-time imprint.’”
“You are correct,” the G’dowen replied. “However, humans being what they are, it would not stop you from trying. If the crystals provided even so much as five minutes warning that time would be used frantically trying to avert death, not emotionally preparing for the event. Virtually every human would try, and inevitably fail, to prevent it, thus belying the purpose of the crystal to begin with.”
“Your offer is more than generous.” Nathan knew the G’dowen was expecting a haggle, but he also knew that the longer they stayed the more likely it was that the question proscription would cease to be overlooked. Besides, he had done the mental calculations, and the G’dowen’s initial offer, once delivered to Tzigane, should bring quite a nice price indeed. “We accept.”
“As we knew you would.” The G’dowen ripple-chuckled again, this time the ripples spread through the ever-present light.
One of the nicer things about dealing with the G’dowen was the elimination of the need for any cargo handling. Once the deal was struck, the books quietly vanished from the Nola’s cargo hold, to be replaced, moments later, by the crates of Eight Balls and Life Crystals. If only it were always so easy.
With the cargo in place, Nathan manually cranked the cargo ramp back into position. The Nola once again took on noticeable forward motion as soon as the ramp was in place. Rather than make their way through the total darkness, the crew waited in the hold for the fifteen seconds it took to clear the G’dowen ‘Place’.
When the lights and familiar hums of a living spacecraft returned, the very next sound the crew heard was a “What’d I miss?” from the ship’s AI. Nathan breathed a sigh of relief.
