Chaacetime: The Origins: A Hard SF Metaphysical and visionary fiction (The Space Cycle - A Metaphysical & Hard Science Fiction Saga)

by A. I. Zlato

  “It is impossible. Each unscheduled node creates a link between different places in the same time, whereas a node should be the same space within a different time. These temporary nodes cannot maintain themselves, otherwise …”

  Aenea could not finish her sentence. The consequences would be terrible, and would go beyond her humble Gateway existence and that of other Gateways; it would be … no …

  “Cause and consequence are inversely correlated. These temporary nodes are the consequence of a Space, whereas the other nodes are the cause”, the Kandron said.

  “How can you know that?”

  “I don’t know it; I have seen it.”

  How could a Space generate a node? And, more important, why? The beginning and the end are the same place within a node; the Space cannot change it … Inter-Spaces are the very guardians of the process. This would require that time be linear within the temporary nodes … that was … unthinkable.

  “Yet, it is”, the Kandron replied.

  Aenea startled. The Kandron had monitored the course of her reflections via Deo, and intervened although the Gateway thought she was by alone. The Kandron was still there … Aenea then turned again towards 5th Hexa.

  “Do you see possible paths that deviate from these disturbances?”

  “We are changing; you are differing. We need to change the beginning; you must differ the Space that generates the temporary nodes.”

  Kandrons always had a clear thought process. Differ the space, that was the Gateway’s number one priority … the 5th element of the Hexagon just handed Aenea the beginning of a solution. The Kandron then went on.

  “The point that is within you holds these memories.”

  The point … that was how the Kandron considered Cae. Aenea nearly reactivated that memory, but narrowly refrained from doing so. The Calorn would not bear the power of emotions in that memory. So she merely would enjoy the marks that the memory left in her mind.

  All this was impossible, and yet … Aenea had, before everything else, to obtain information in order to understand. How? No Gateway could be the instigator of such monstrosity. The Space that disrupted the whole, and that, according to the Kandron, generated the temporary nodes, could not be under the oversight of a Gateway. That was also impossible.

  Between several impossibilities, she had to choose the least absurd, but she still needed to perceive it.

  “How can I learn more about this Space?” Aenea asked.

  “Do you need to know it in order to differ it?”

  -“Yes, it is … unknown.”

  “Other Gateways?”

  “No”, she replied, sharing with 5th Hexa the conclusion of the thought process she just had.

  “The Spirit of the Multitude?”

  “Kandrons have nothing to do with it.”

  “A Machine, then?”

  “This is only a … but the energy of which is necessary to create a new Space.”

  The Kandron was right. To obtain information about an unknown Space, Aenea needed an entity involved in such process. Having taken Gateways out of the picture, she had to focus on Machines. Which one? Although they were built on the same basis by the Elders, they were not identical. As each Space had evolved differently, the digital frame was not the same. The frame of Space O. was so thick, owing to hybrids … The Gateway would contact the frame of Space H. She had no objective reasons, just a hunch given the feeling she had between both artificial layers. Finer, and empowering organic life better, the H.’s frame seemed preferable.

  Aenea thanked the Kandron, which then cut off its mental connection to Deo. The Gateway thought about all that had happened. Cae was frightened after visualising a temporary node, which should not have existed. She had seen, through the Calorn, a Space different from her own Spaces, although she was a Level 2 Gateway.

  Deo was also disturbed, probably by the consequences of the temporary node in its Space. These unscheduled Inter-Spaces affected not only her universe, but also Space H. Kandrons were aware, and the 5th element of the Hexagon had said she should differ this strange place. How and why could a Space create these disturbances? She had no idea. She only knew she had to learn more, to make the phenomenon stop. Her survival was at stake … and so were the survival of Spaces. The survival of all things was compromised.

  To set rules is to both illuminate the future and show the way. It also means to choose one path instead of others. Who can claim to have enough wisdom to decide the future?

  Recollections from Chaacetime

  Chapter 17

  : Space H. (Periphery)

  When he awoke, Paul saw daylight through the window. Brightness in the room indicated that the sun had risen at least an hour ago, information confirmed by the clock projecting time onto the ceiling. He had slept twelve hours nonstop. He stretched, and stood up. He then realised he was home. However, he was sure he fell asleep on the floor in his office.

  Disoriented, he tried to gather his thoughts.

  Yesterday … what happened yesterday?

  He had received a message from Baley, enjoining him to come. Edgard had not wanted to bring him there, so he had had to commute by rail. He had gone to a station. A short walk materialised the circular platform. Crossed by the rail, it had on each side a storage rack for seats as well as a terminal. He had hopped on the platform, which displayed a shimmering red, and had stood in front of the terminal with caution. This was different from the one he had in his office or at home, as its only function was to translate in Machine language the destination of commuters; it also was very basic. The material from which it was made, phenocrystal, let in the yellow rays of the sun. Paul had placed his palm on the plate.

  The material then had took the shape of his hand, thanks to the membrane covering it. Not knowing how to explain to the terminal where he intended to go, he had waited for something to happen. After posting his personal data through pulse recognition, the screen had displayed a terse message, asking for his destination. Under the membrane, letters had appeared, organised to be accessible at the touch of fingers, without a hand movement. Unaccustomed to this, he had made a typo and indicated Fist Circle. The response had been categorical Destination unknown. Destination? He had resumed the process, while cursing, and finally got it right at the third attempt.

  He has stood on an available seat, and the membrane of the armrest, in contact with his palm, had recognised him. The seat had set itself on motion, and a small slam had notified him of the rail imminent launch. Suddenly, thanks to the rapid acceleration, he had felt his heart going upward to his chest, and his stomach twisting. He had grabbed the seat, trying not to cry, unable to keep his eyes open. After an infinite period, a new slam had notified him that the seat had been disconnected from the rail. The deceleration had been as brutal as the acceleration had, and Paul had been thrown forward, ejected from his seat. He had found himself standing, unsteadily, struggling not to fall. With his heart near his mouth, he had joined Baley in her apartment. All this effort in order to see her for a few minutes, so that she could had thrown her disgust at him, and not take into account what he had to say.

  She had sent him back to his laboratory, very happy to get rid of him. He had to recognise the opposite was also true. Her blind faith in the Machine triggered growing mistrust on his part. His conjecture on the children’s size had been swept away because she had spoken with It. Did the artificial entity have something to hide?

  And then, he had had a crazy evening, the scare that Edgard caused, the manuscript … he grimaced under the nascent migraine he started feeling.

  Once again, he wondered why he had been assigned to this investigation. Why him? What special thing did he have, except … Edgard? The Kandron guided his thoughts, tried to open his mind into other horizons. Was that what had caught the attention of the artificial entity, which made It think he could help move things forward? It wanted suicides to stop, in the name of the Equilibrium … was it certain, after all?

  The Equil
ibrium, that was Its raison d’être … however … Paul imagined It might have another purpose … a grander project … a plan inside plans … He could not find out the logical path that led him to have such thoughts. He had no contact with It; he did not notice anything special about the Machine. Nonetheless, an inner voice told him that another truth was hiding behind … Edgard. Certainly, it was the Kandron who implanted this kind of thoughts in his brain; only it could do such things. Everything was connected … necessarily. But why … the Machine … a project greater than what was visible…

  His thoughts made him slide into the memory of his apocalyptic dreams, like a dark mist too slow to dissipate. The City devoured by fire and disintegrating … the Machine, which thrived in the midst of the chaos … the Kandrons leaving … his failure… and the dead children who screamed we told you so. From the universe of the dead, they were transmitting a message, which he needed to understand.

  They had chosen an extreme approach, as if they wanted people in the City to pay attention and not ignore what they had to say … but what were they saying, really? What warning did they want to convey? What were they saying that the City was not heeding? It was just a dream after all … no. It was more than that, and he knew it. Edgard … he heard the voice of the Kandron, although it was probably lying in the garden. It told him how important the dream was, without saying more. It was up to Paul to find out … to understand …

  Differ the beginning … Edgard’s sentence no longer left his mind. The relation of cause-consequence with the investigation eluded him, and yet … Everything was there … the Machine … the Equilibrium … the children … Baley … the relation …

  He exited his reflections when he saw the Kandron knocking on the window to request breakfast. He then remembered vaguely that Edgard transported him from his office to his house. He opened the pane to cuddle the animal, which reciprocated by resting its head within his hands.

  The warmth of its body, the touch of its coat, all this made Paul shudder. While preparing the mixture, he persuaded himself that yesterday was all behind him, and that a magnificent day of manuscript study lay ahead. Baley did not want him around, and that was even better. He was even happy to see Vlad, his crazy aide.

  Looking at Edgard eat, he felt deep in his chest the strong attachment he had for his friend, which was incomparable. The love he had for his parents, his brother, his friends and his girlfriends was slim compared to the connection he head with the colossal creature that was licking the bowl with sighs of satisfaction. Edgard … his friend, his confidant … his insurance against boredom! Paul wondered if, without it, he would have had this nightmare, he would have perceived the correlations, if … what part of the Kandron remained constantly in his mind?

  He gulped his rancid cereal without being aware that he was swallowing food. Upon finishing his bowl, with a heavy stomach indicating he had eaten too much, he headed to take a shower. He forced himself to stay in the present, to enjoy the invigorating effect of hot water. He succeeded for a few minutes, before his mind escaped, again. Relation … absolute or relative questioning … reality and imaginary … Machine and Equilibrium … Absolute Equilibrium … Death …

  Once ready, he hopped on Edgard, with his briefcase. It was another reminder, if one needed such a reminder, of his fondness for old habits, in defiance of technology. He could have indeed saved his notes as files and transfer them to his terminals, at home and in his office, in order to work there, but he preferred writing on paper and take his notebook wherever he went.

  After undergoing the harsh treatment from the rail system, he came to appreciate even more Edgard’s favour in giving him a ride. The takeoff was gentle, and brought them over the City. Paul looked pointedly in the direction opposite to the Tower, and admired the Unique Forest, and its changing colours. Autumn provided shimmering colours to the leaves, which will soon fall. The wind would soon transport and drop some of them in his garden, beautifying the lawn and porch. The seasonal cycle … an everlasting restarting … in a different time …

  Edgard began its descent, and the Unique Forest disappeared behind buildings. Paul hopped off cheerfully, eager to start a real good day. He entered the hall of the laboratory, his laboratory. The security guard launched into his routine chat, and Paul decided, for once, to reply. He told him to change his STOP sign and make it a NO LANDING HERE sign. Only such a precise signage would make the Kandron change its behaviour.

  The guard gaped, because Paul had never spoken to him much. He recovered quickly, and said that if his animal was unable to understand the current sign, it was not his fault, and that he was not going to do extra work because a stupid pet, and that … Paul sighed, thinking that not everyone had a knack for understanding others’ viewpoints. He nonetheless was happy that he spoke his mind, which, maybe, would save him from the guard’s admonishments over one or two days. Walking lightly, he reached his office, finding it empty. Vlad had not yet arrived. He had left his boss a note, which he had seen the day before, to know how well the investigation proceeded. He was about to answer when Vlad burst into the room.

  “You are up early, Vlad!”

  “I was hoping to see you. I was sure that you would come to the lab before joining your investigation teammate. I wanted to hear everything from you firsthand.”

  “There is nothing to tell, I …”

  “Come on, boss. Be nice! It will only take a few minutes. I promise; I will not bother you with too many questions, so you can leave ASAP.”

  “What a cheerful mindset … Okay, fine. Special Agent Baley …”

  “What is she like? What is her chip’s colour?”

  “Are you telling me the colour can be different?”

  “Come on, boss … yes, the colour can be different, and so can be the number of bars. This indicates the quality of the chip’s signal, and its settings. Green refers to the First Circle, yellow the Second Circle … The number of bars is more difficult to interpret; I do not have access to that knowledge.”

  “Ah … she actually has a light green chip, with two bars. She belongs to the First Circle, as all Special Agents do.”

  “What does she look like?”

  “Pfff … In her thirties, athletic, without charm, without being ugly …”

  “Ok, ok. What about the investigation? How do you feel, being in the epicentre of this inquiry?”

  “The Special Agent took me to the site where the last … the last Problem occurred. It was simply horrible. Seeing images on a news channel screen is one thing; being there is … indescribable.”

  “Did you find the common denominator? The thing connecting all these children?”

  “No, I … I was just trying to survive.”

  “But you worked on the case, don’t you?”

  “I mostly talked to Edgard.”

  “Your Kandron? But what does this … What about Special Agent Baley, what does she think?”

  “Hard to say. She works in her own way, and she considers me some kind of discomfort. She has no consideration for what I think, unless my views fit her thought process. She sent me back to my lab, and that suits me very well.”

  “So you are no longer part of the team?”

  “I guess I still am, but Baley works on her side, and I work on mine. Edgard told me, quite aggressively, to focus on the last manuscript discovered, just when …”

  “Are you kidding? You’d rather hole yourself up in the midst of … of that, instead of focusing on the investigation?”

  “Vlad, there are different ways to finding the solution … As I often told you, studying the past can teach us to act differently in the present to really choose our future.”

  “What does the past have to do with the Problem?”

  “I don’t know yet.”

  “So, today you will not join the Special Agent.”

  “That’s correct.”

  “For once you have the opportunity to do something useful, and you choose to …”

 
; “My work is useful.”

  “If you say so.”

  Disappointed, Vlad frowned, and went out, wandering in the corridors, seeking someone to talk to. Paul shrugged, frustrated by his assistant’s behaviour, but also happy to start his day.

  He headed into the Archives Room, frozen as it were, in which he returned earlier than he had expected, and he was glad about it. With glee, he entered the room, past the heavy doors. Thanks to the instructions he received in the message, he easily found the document, carefully placed on a shelf, in a protective envelope. He expressed minor surprise, although he had seen the document the day before in his office.

  He took it, then laid it on the reading table, carefully unlocking the magnetic field protection. The glitter surrounding the document disappeared, revealing its contents to Paul. The binding had cracked, and pieces had broken away over time. The cover was weathered, losing the lustre of its original colouring, which one could barely guess at some sections. A beautiful red, certainly. The pages’ paper was good, and so was the ink, both of which had helped preserve the manuscript from the ravages of time and allowed its discovery during an excavation expedition.

  The very right to excavate represented a victory for lab researchers. Thanks to their stubbornness, the support of Jade Burton, the lab director, and unexpected help from the Machine, excavations were now permitted prior to every new construction project. Willingly or unwillingly, builders would call on archaeologists before kicking off construction work. Although the Machine approved the research, builders lost no opportunity to put pressure on archaeologists. These inconveniences were minor, after all. The important thing was that the excavations were authorised, and each of them provided its grab bag of surprises, relics and documents.

  The information gathered was precious for the laboratory, and thus for the City. This was well worth a few weeks of defer in the construction process, so Paul thought. The manuscript in front of him was found on a site of great interest, which required weeks of excavation, to the chagrin of the builders. Paul rejoiced in advance about what he would find while studying the document.