by A. I. Zlato
He tried somehow to reassure everyone, promising that Mossa would return. Inside his mind, he knew that he knew absolutely nothing. A few minutes later, which seemed like an eternity, the Kandron arose again before them, and dropped Mossa down.
“Hello, Galatea. Hello, Egeon.”
“You can speak? I mean, you can speak our language?” Egeon said, surprised.
“Eutrope taught me.”
“Eutrope? ...”
“That’s what the Kandron called itself.”
“Eutrope ...”
Egeon looked thoughtfully at the Kandron, saying that the name did not suit it at all. But what name would have been suitable for such a creature?
Galatea timidly approached Eutrope, stopping a few steps away. She whispered its name. It just ignored her.
Egeon resumed.
“But how did he manage to teach you our language in such a short time? We had been trying for days….”
“My learning speed … that's because I'm a hybrid. I know you do not know. That is to say that I am a grown human, enhanced by artificial components. My ancestors decided to develop a symbiosis with electronic circuits. At first, they only grafted a few chips. Now look, my extensions are more than a thousand. I was born with these circuits, you see them on my hands and forearms, and they increased my brain capacity extraordinarily. The artificial components mesh at the molecular level with my body; we are one.”
Egeon wondered how it was possible that a human could be born with microprocessors implanted on the skin, how the biological matrix of a woman could create copper threads and mercury welds, what genetic changes had been necessary. He would take the time to study all these subjects with Mossa. Meanwhile, a more pragmatic question haunted him.
“Why didn’t you use these skills before?” He said, wondering if Mossa had not been making fun of them until now.
“Because I have not been able to establish an organic-synthetic relationship with you.”
“We have no chips like you, it's true, but neither does the Kandron.”
“Let's say it has a much more elaborate form of communication than yours, and I could use all my abilities with the animal.”
Egeon refrained himself from dismissing him altogether, given his blatant arrogance. Around him, the growing crowd ‘drank’ his words like Kool-Aid. An individual with enhanced capabilities ... a very good candidate for the position of prophet! Some people knelt already, muttering incantations. Finally, Egeon liked him more when he was silent. His newfound inspiration, in a language the people understood, was only amplifying disturbances, instead of solving them.
“But I also have many questions.” Mossa said. “I do not know this place. Where am I? How is it that you speak a language other than mine? Are you a follower of a religion that rejects the technology, an attitude that would explain the lack of extensions on your hands?”
Egeon felt his anger rising. That boy was unpleasant to the extreme, not to mention horrifying. However, he responded, as calmly as he could.
“Here, we are on the other side of the Unique Forest. We live outside the City, without the influence of the Machine.”
“So I was right. You don’t like technology, and you live on the margins of society. This explains your strange language. Could you tell me how I could reach the City and return to my peers?”
“There is no one like you there. People in the Primary Circles have a chip connecting them to the machine, but nothing like what you have on your hands.”
“You say that because you never really went there! I can assure you that there are, on the contrary, countless people like me.”
“I tell you this is not the case ... Ask around; I'm not the only one to have been in the City. Nobody wears something close to what you have on your body.”
Mossa looked at the others as if he had just realised their presence. Several people nodded to confirm Egeon’s comments.
“But then ... is there perhaps another City? I had never heard of a renegade town, which was poorly developed technologically, but after all, why not? My City should be elsewhere. Space O. is vast.”
After hearing this, the entire group of forty people now gathered fell to his knees. Space O., that was the space where lived the Founding Couple, who had travelled through time to get here. The Prophet was also from this area, following the footsteps of the Arts, to guide them, thanks to his technology ... The Link and the Break, it was him! He was the Messiah!
Galatea, with her usual gentleness, tried to tone the crowd’s fervour down. A believer herself, her remarks were an echo that would not have matched Egeon’s fiery words of exasperation. However, she also seemed shaken by the mention of their Space of origin. Egeon took her hand, glanced through the crowd, and asked for silence. He then said:
“We are not in Space O. You are here in Space H.”
“Space H. ???? What? This is impossible; my world is Space O…”
“I assure you, we are in Space H. Your new friend did not tell you? This is why we speak a different language...”
“But, but, how did I land here? What I did to fall into another Space, especially in an anti-technology community?”
“Why do you say that? We are the most advanced in this world, we ..”.
Egeon almost told him about their shuttle, his pride, but changed his mind. It really was not the time.
“In the City behind, there ... the Machine of your Space ... there had to be places more developed than that!! You mentioned chips earlier. Although they are less developed than mine, this is still an organo-synthetic relationship.”
“No, Mossa. It is simply interface equipment between them and the Machine. This has nothing to do with what you have described. The chip is affixed at birth, and there is no symbiosis, unlike yours has ... Humans are born fully human.”
“Retarded folk, I'm in a world of retarded ... but how do I manage to go back home? And besides, how did I get here?”
“I have no answer to these questions.”
“We do, said a woman named Marielle, advancing towards him, while remaining knelt. You are our Prophet; you are The Link and the Break. You are going to guide us, that is why you were sent here. Our ancestors, the Founding Couple, had followed the same path as you did. This is why you came. You made the same journey, and as they guided us with their vision, you will share yours with us.”
“You are completely ... I come from a world far more advanced than yours, and I have capabilities that go far beyond your imagination. I can teach you many things.”
Egeon, who could no longer stand Mossa’s arrogance, intervened.
“What these people want to know is if you are the Messiah they expected. For the rest, everyone understands how much you feel superior to us.”
“Your problems are not mine. If I agreed to learn your language, through Eutrope, it is only because I want to find a way to get back home. I do not intend to stay in prehistory with you.”
Egeon almost felt like dragging him to see the shuttle, to show him what prehistoric humans had managed to build, but he refrained. The shock Mossa had just received was immense. He felt uprooted ... and probably thought he would never return home. Egeon wanted to understand his distress, but he was more interested in the concerns of the community.
Mossa had refused to frankly answer Marielle’s question, in other words, whether or not he was the Messiah. Believers, therefore, would continue to believe, and some sceptics might be tempted to ponder the subject. He had to deliver a speech immediately in front of everyone, to ... to try his best. Galatea tried to comfort Mossa, while the faithful pack was praying aloud. The young man lost interest in them, and went into the house, with fists clenched.
Meanwhile, Eutrope went off, probably considering that its mission was complete. Egeon wondered what purpose the Kandrons were pursuing, why it had decided to teach their language to Mossa. What interest did this boy represent for them? What else had Eutrope learned to him? stranger from another Space, a Kandron i
nterested in their community for the first time, these two events had necessarily more connections between them than it appeared.
He would have devoted an hour discussing these issues with Galatea, while nibbling a cake or two by the lakeside. Unfortunately, he first had to take care of urgent matter. As usual.
It was now up to him to teach others what he had learned about Mossa, and he had not learned — and to try to preserve as much serenity in the ranks. He went to see Teo to tell him that their meeting would be postponed, and replaced by a general meeting. Teo raised her arms to heaven, saying that everything was against him, and that he would never make it to the end. Egeon was not far from sharing his pessimism. He asked him to relay the message to its teams, those who had decided to continue working. Others, those who had seen the emergence of a Kandron, were already heading to the lake shore, the usual place for large gatherings.
Galatea went to notify the Astronomy Department, and only Alea’s department was left to be informed. Ten thousand souls quickly regrouped on the shore. Egeon positioned his feet on the platform of the ultraF network, which would amplify his voice, so all could hear him. He asked for silence, and immediately got it.
“Hello, everyone. As promised, I come to you to report what I had learned about Mossa. In recent days, we have done our best, with Galatea, to make the boy feel comfortable. We tried repeatedly to establish dialogue, without success. This morning, a Kandron landed at our door, visibly interested in Mossa. It flew away with him, and when they returned, Mossa spoke our language. Thus, we could finally communicate.”
Surprise pervaded faces at the mention of the word Kandron. Many seemed disappointed to have missed this event, and small groups formed around those who were there, and who could tell in detail what had happened. Egeon resumed, and silence tricked in.
“Mossa comes from Space O., but he does not know how he managed to land here. He is a hybrid, that is to say, he is permanently connected to electronic circuits that are spread on his hands and forearms. Apparently, his Space is much more technologically advanced than ours is. For now, he is stunned because he has learned that he is in another Space and he would like to go back to where he came from, but does not know how.”
“Is he our Prophet? One person asked.”
“Marielle had asked this question, and he did not respond. He is just a depressed boy, who has just learned that he could never go back home.”
“Maybe he is our prophet but does not know it yet. He is the Link with the Space of our ancestors, and the Break that will take us away from this planet?”
“He is not there by chance!”
“What if …”
Questions and comments flooded from all sides.
“Listen, I told you everything I know; for the rest, I cannot answer. You want to believe that he is the Messiah, and I cannot dissuade you. What I do know, however, is that if we do not hand in work, the construction of the shuttle will never be complete!”
“You are nothing but an unbeliever, and you are contemptuous vis-à-vis our beliefs! Even if the Messiah proved his identity to you, you would still not believe him!”
“I am not dismissive, and I have never been. I remind you that I am married to Galatea! Can you imagine what she would say to me if I ever dared disrespect her religion?”
His remark caused some laughter, and relaxed the ambiance a little. He continued.
“It is true that I am a nonbeliever. Just as no one can convince you that Mossa is not the Prophet, you cannot convince me otherwise. I am just saying that this issue remains unresolved, and that during this time, we must continue our jobs. Out of respect for all previous generations who had worked on the project, we have to move. For me, there is truly one emergency.
I remind you that the City is facing an unprecedented crisis. Its children are committing suicide. Children, with all the life they could enjoy, a life of hope and goals, are choosing death. I cannot even imagine the desperation that could pervade them. Personally, I do not want to witness the disintegration of the City, because it necessarily will affect us. We live outside the Circles, but we are part of this Space, and are bound to it. I want to be gone before the final collapse...”
“But Egeon, we don’t live in the City; this cannot affect us ... Why not pause the project, wait for Mossa to regain his composure, so that he can guide us in building the shuttle?”
“Are you kidding? You want to put your entire life in this boy’s hands? Think about your parents, your grandparents, who have dedicated their lives. Does their sacrifice mean anything to you?”
“Of course, it does, but ..”
“But what? The last patrol reported to me that City residents had help a number of children captive in a building, which was highly monitored, to prevent them from committing suicide ... Don’t you find that worrisome? Don’t you think that there is some kind of urgency? This is not the future I want for our children!”
A flutter in the assembly confirmed to Egeon that that his words found an echo in the hearts of many people.
“And what are we doing for the proph ... for Mossa?”
“For the moment, nothing. Let’s wait until he recovers from the shock he just experienced, and see what he wants to do. Perhaps he will accept to share his knowledge with us, to move the project forward, but maybe not. Imagine how you would feel if you were thrown into the City, with no hope of coming back here? He is probably depressed, angry ... what do I know? We cannot make the shuttle construction depend on Mossa. We must move forward, for our future, for our children.”
Egeon felt he had temporarily won the support of the crowd. He saw, with pleasure, people turning back and proceeding to their workstations. He took Galatea’s hand, and saw her gaze. She alone knew that he did not share the confidence he had just instilled in his colleagues ... he was full of doubts. What would he do with Mossa? How should he handle this? How to successful complete the project, whereas the horizon was darkening?
The means are often as important as the end. Otherwise, why climb on foot to the top of the hill, whereas one could use the rail?
Lessons from Chaacetime
Chapter 34
: Space H. (1st Circle)
The atmosphere in the City was electric. Children who had been removed for their own safety, in the words relayed by several newspapers, were contacting their parents during the few supervised permissions granted them. Most of them wept. They wanted to go home, and did not understand why they could not. The teachers did their best, telling them stories at night, taking them in their arms, sharing soothing words ... but those gestures did not replace the absence of their parents, siblings and school buddies.
Their parents, despite the close protection provided by two guards, felt the gaze of others in the City, which was heavy, full of hostility. The City made them responsible for the problem, because the rumour that posited that religious beliefs were the origin of the Problem had grown further. These parents went to work heads down, quickly, and returned home in the evening the same way. Worried about their children, deprived of them, they had to bear, in addition to their own guilt, the collective animosity.
Life seemed irrelevant. Each day that passed without new cases of suicide was a relief for everyone, but added extra pressure on parents whose children had been removed. Discussions on the street, in shops, in bars became more and more aggressive vis-à-vis Chrijulam. It had only taken a nosy journalist to dig up the common denominator among all these families. The sect then had been the subject of multiple reports, each more excessive than the previous, casting negative light on the religious movement. People did not understand that one could adhere to these concepts, so violence was latent.
Any person belonging to the sect, or suspected of being part of it, could be lynched in public at any moment. Friends of at-risk parents, who did not benefit from protection, shaved walls and were the most discreet possible.
Baley also felt it in people's eyes, when she left her apartment. She had imagin
ed that people would be grateful to her for her action, but what she saw in looks, and the conversations she came across, showed her very mixed feelings. Of course, people were relieved to see suicides stop, but they were also afraid of the power she had; she could snatch children from their parents on grounds of City Safety. One person holding such power over people's lives; it was scary.
Some wondered even if other children were not going to be 'separated' as a precautionary measure. Baley did not understand any of these reactions, and felt resentment, even anger thereabout.
How could one be wary of her after she had saved these children ... She was proud of what she had done, proud of her skills, which allowed her to discover the common denominator, proud of her courage and determination when it came to the decision and the implementation of the plan. While people were throwing her sidelong glances, she would look them in the eyes, before ignoring them, sometimes even feeling above them and their pettiness. She moved into the City, through the crowd, and focused on the work that remained to be done. It did not matter, the image that people had of her.
She went to the South-D5 building. It was a nondescript building, surrounded by similar skyscrapers. Gray, with a half-moon-shaped entrance that mirrored the shape of the Circle, as it was customary twenty years ago, the building had three floors. It should have been destroyed to make way for a small modern building. The demolition project was launched, and residents had been relocated temporarily a little further away, until the new construction was complete. In fact, it was an empty building, which was perfect for the situation.
The large windows of the third floor decreased at each level, forming triangles of glass, edges of which lay on the ground floor. This type of glass and concrete architecture was very fashionable once, before construction crews started using new materials, such as plastomer. This material was much easier to use, and more important, from Baley’s perspective, much more aesthetic. The various lights percolated floating pale yellow and blue rays, which would be visible in the children’s corridors.
