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

by A. I. Zlato

  “Okay ... Edgard ... I ... do you realise? Discovering that our Space is the Earliest Space ... that would be wonderful! Before you say something, let me remind you that since I understood the whole problem, you agree to answer my questions. So please, do not tell me it does not matter ...”

  “Let me remind you, too, that I had said that I would answer, to some degree — but tell me what’s the matter. Why would it be a good thing, in your view?”

  “Because that would be the greatest discovery of all time! And all the information I could find in the remains of the Machine, on the Guardians ... Thomas must have left us other messages to help us!”

  “Let me say it again. The Earliest Space, as you see it, does not matter; however, I feel you’re obsessing over that idea, anyway. If you ever find what you’re looking for, will you commit fully, with all you know, to preventing the absolute destruction, as you will promise?”

  “As I will ... ah yes, the reverse linearity ... I ... wait!! Do you have some information?? Edgard????”

  “Where the beginning and the end are the same place, when the space is a different time.”

  “What?”

  “You ask a question; this is the answer I’m giving you.”

  “This is not an answer; that's a dodge. Another one of your tricks to steer me in the direction you want?”

  “Achieving my goal, yes, but I will never deceive you. You’re the one stubborn enough to ask questions when you're not able to hear a different reality to what your filter of understanding lets you see.”

  “Edgard, when I ask you a question, I cannot know in advance that I won’t understand your answer …”

  “This is the reality stemming from your question. Any response is nothing but an interpretation.”

  “Okay. Nevertheless, I cannot predict my inability to understand that … reality.”

  “If you do not apprehend the concept, that is because you don’t know the implications of your question.”

  “... I do not understand the magnitude of the issue regarding the stigmata of the Elders’ world?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well ... Where the beginning and end are, etc. I'll work on that, as it seems to be necessary. Will that, at least, answer my question about the stigmata?”

  “It will take you on the path that is yours.”

  “Yeah, that's what I said, another one of your tricky answers ... Let me get to work.”

  'Where the beginning ...’ Where had he heard this sentence before? He entered the text in the laboratory database. He received two hundred and fifty-two results, on documents comprising several hundred pages ... he had no time to read everything, especially given that the research on the cyclone could not be postponed indefinitely. He had given himself two hours, and time was elapsing rapidly. Paul came out of his office and stopped before Vlad.

  “Tell me, have you, by any chance, ever heard the phrase ‘Where the beginning and end are the same place, when the space is a different time’?”

  “Uh, it sounds like a mystical thing, right? Other than that, no, never heard.”

  “Who could tell me?”

  “Ask your girlfriend!”

  “What girlfriend?”

  “Come on, boss. Sandra, the pretty brunette four offices away ... I’ve seen how both of y’all stared at each other. She is the only person from the lab with whom you talk for more than thirty seconds. Except me, of course.”

  “You are imagining things ... That said, it's a good idea; I'll go talk to her”, Paul said, blushing.

  He crossed the hall, heading to Sandra’s office. She was pretty, to be sure. And prodigiously intelligent. But they were made to be colleagues and nothing else.

  “Hi Sandra, can I bother you for a minute?”

  “I always have time for you; you know that, Paul. Tell me, what can I do for you?”

  “Does the phrase ‘Where the beginning and end are the same place; when the space is a different time’ ring a bell?”

  “Wait ... Go talk to Philip, tell him I sent you. He works in the Study of Technical Engineering service, Science and Technology department; he often refers to that sentence, but I don’t remember what it was about.”

  Paul thanked her and went down the hall, to review the office layout and find Philip’s office. The Science and Technology department was located at Cube D, and the Study of Technical Engineering service was at Sub-Cube 5. Philip’s office number was 5.10.

  To get from Sub-Cube B 23.5 to Sub-Cube D.5.10, he took the central corridor traversing the lab, connecting the five blocks. The inner passageway was the largest hall of the laboratory and the only one in which the building designer had built a garden. Trees and other plants dripped on the white plastic soil, flooding it with gradient green. Few people took the time to admire the vegetation, and Paul was no exception. He quickly crossed the great hall, observing without seeing the leaves quivering on his path.

  Cube D was the most important of the laboratory. With seventeen services, five storage rooms, and fifty offices, not to mention the specific equipment with dedicated rooms, it exuded modernity and enthusiasm, which contrasted with the stuffy atmosphere in Cube B. He felt like entering a beehive, given the deafening noise and the countless researchers, working hectically, staring at wherever they were going. Arriving at number 5.10., he knocked on the door.

  “Philip? I'm Paul, from the History department, Earliest Space Service, Cube B. Sandra suggested I come see you. Can I bother you for a minute?”

  “Sure! What can I do for you?”

  “While doing some research, I came across this sentence, ‘Where the beginning and the end are the same place; when the space is a different time.’ Does it ring a bell?”

  “Of course! This is one of the most important legends!”

  “I ... I didn’t know anything about it.”

  “You don’t know this legend? Funny. That’s the bad side of having people specialising in an area; we tend to become completely ignorant of the rest ... Well, basically, the legend says that when the Equilibrium is threatened, the Machine makes a request for a new Space. Until then, nothing extraordinary; this is what we learn in school. The legend goes further and says that the Machine alone cannot create a Space, because the latter must be stabilised so that it does not infringe on another, a scenario that would sow chaos and destruction. The entity maintaining stability between Spaces is The Link and the Break...”

  “Wait, I've heard that name before. There is a myth that says Gateways connect Spaces among each other; is that what you're talking about?”

  “It is quite possible this is the same thing. Anyway, in my documents, it's called The Link and the Break. Let me continue. The legend does not specify what it is, except that it is something or someone with intelligence. Sometimes, it is given the name Nexus. There are connections between Spaces, the Link, in which the Nexus lives. It ensures the separation of Spaces, the Break... hence the name Link and the Break. The sentence you indicated is the definition of Nexus. Well, don’t ask me to explain the philosophy; that’s not my thing. In any case, this sentence goes with the concept of Nexus, which, according to legend, lived in Inter-Space connections, maintaining the separation between them.”

  The Inter-Spaces … the cyclone … The presence … Edgard had not helped him find the stigmata; it encouraged to search for answers that were important to solve the Problem.

  “But how come nobody talks about this?” He asked. “I mean, why don’t we learn these things in school?”

  “Did you hear what I said or not? The Machine cannot create a Space without the Nexus ... and training programs in schools are all compiled by ...”

  “The Machine…”

  “You're getting there. I believe that the Machine does not want us to know that It cannot do everything. To maintain the Equilibrium, It needs humans to think It is super-powerful.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “How did you come across this sentence, I mean, this legend?”
/>
  “Um ... My work revolves around the Earliest Space. I’m currently studying an old manuscript, written by an Elder.”

  “That’s so rare! What is it about?”

  “The manuscript says that the Earliest Space did not disappear. According to the author, some people stayed in that Space after it became habitable again, and then they erased traces of the ancient world. However, everything did not vanish. One of today’s Spaces is probably the Earliest Space.”

  “Wow ... So you think that ..”

  “Yes. I believe it is possible that Space H., our Space, is the Earliest Space. So I am seeking traces, stigmata, as the author calls them.”

  “This is unbelievable!”

  “Wait, this is still a hypothesis, as I have found nothing yet. Moreover, it would be better to keep quiet about what I just told you. That could wreak chaos in the City.”

  “Who does not need it right now, especially with the Problem! Don’t worry, this will remain within the lab’s walls. Okay, so you're looking for stigmata; how did that lead you to the legend of Nexus?”

  “Edgard was the cause.”

  “Who is Edgard?”

  “My Kandron. When I asked him how to find the stigmata, it gave me this sentence. As I was sure I heard it before ... here I am.”

  “And what is the relationship between your research and the Link and the Break?”

  “Uh, I've got to go.”

  “Don’t worry; we all want to keep our research to ourselves, to reap the reward at some point ... I understand, man.”

  Nexus ... Gateway … and ... Link and the Break ... he knew now what he had seen in the cyclone.

  If only one could really believe a legend.

  Deep in personal thoughts, Paul jumped off when Edgard appeared.

  “Why do you want to distinguish between reality and imaginary?”

  “This is a legend, Edgard. That’s a metaphor, a way of conveying a message ...”

  “Enough! You turn around like a fish in its bowl, surprised to find a stone whenever it swims around!”

  “Sorry, Edgard, what did I say to upset you?”

  “It's mostly what you do not say; all the possibilities you do not see. The limits of your conscious mind truncate the way you frame what you do.”

  “The legend is true then …”

  The geographical centre of suicides ... a temporary cyclone ... the fleeting vision of the Nexus ... The Link but also the Break ... Tomorrow, he would be ready.

  Legends and myths can be seen as a message, in symbolic form, passed from generation to generation. Everyone had to find his or her own interpretation of the symbol.

  The Legend of the Elders, the History of the Machine

  Chapter 57

  Space H. (Outside Circle)

  Egeon was in the middle of a delightful dream. He saw himself, holding Galatea’s hand, closing the door of the shuttle. Inside, many people, friends, shouting with joy at the idea of going to Planet Hope. He felt under his feet the ground shaking, the result of engine vibrations. Outside, he saw the oldest people, including Teo, who did not leave, cheering them up. No trace of Mossa, neither inside nor outside; his mind had made the hybrid disappear, this stranger from another Space. No hint of annoyance; no small problem was came disturbing the dream. Egeon felt intense joy, coupled with a sense of pride. It was so beautiful! Galatea and he were part of the first Shuttle Generation...

  The dream vanished, and he awoke abruptly, hearing many voices outside. He grumbled when he saw the time on the ultraF node, which emerged from the ground. He went back to his bed, hoping to fall asleep again, to return to this wonderful dream, to no avail. The voices, outside, were louder and kept his brain alert. Already upset before setting foot on the ground, he went out to ask what caused the clamour. Galatea woke up also, not to find out what was going on, but rather to calm her husband down. For her, these had to be a few young people returning home after a night of party and alcohol. That should have not caused much excitement, except when one name’s was Egeon.

  Furious, he slammed the door, without noticing that he was closing it onto his wife. The darkness of night faded thanks to lighting of the road that bordered his house, activated by the presence of intruders. Five people were talking animatedly, and he approached them, asking them roundly what was happening. Once he uttered these words, he noticed a young girl who was not part, he was sure, of their community. What was that again? A female Mossa?? She was at the centre of a circle formed by those who had awakened. He pushed the crowd to see better.

  He discovered a teenage girl, whose black hair hung sadly on her coat, also black. Head down, she lifted wide her eyes, and immediately looked down. Her appearance would not have raised any flag if she had not had a chip. A girl from the City! Never had any of her fellow citizens ever crossed the Unique Forest, thus cutting off contact with the Machine. Until now, trees had formed an impassable barrier, which protected them from the eyes of the City. What was she doing here? How had she reached them? What was she looking for?

  His half-asleep brain awoke immediately, and he interrogated the girl unsympathetically. Bits of nervousness in her voice drove back the curious. The five individuals around the stranger stepped back a few metres, not wanting to suffer the fallout of his wrath.

  He got closer to her, still seeking answers. He grabbed her by the shoulders, his broad hands clasping her tiny frame. It was vital to understand how she got so close and what her intentions were. He shivered, imagining the possible consequences if she revealed their existence to the Machine upon her return to the City. He could not afford such an outcome, not now, when the project's success was within their reach. The memories of his dream haunted him, reminding him of all he had to lose. He thought of the shuttle being finished, of Hope’s images, the dream that was gradually morphing into reality. He could not afford to leave a kid destroy everything. Galatea, as usual, intervened to temper his anger. Thanks to her, Iris, since this was her name, finally spoke.

  Mossa appeared in the meantime. He still lived with Egeon and his wife, and that sound must have woken him up. He remained for a moment on the doorstep, but considered that the event was worth showing up, so he came closer. As Iris claimed to have met him, he did not deny it. However, he refuted any responsibility for her arrival. Even if it was not intentional, which still needed to be proven, he had instilled in the girl the desire to cross the Forest. Egeon was about to tell him to fuck off, but the hybrid suggested an idea he found helpful.

  The hybrid said he could reprogram Iris’ chip, on the one hand, to deny the Machine access to her memory, and secondly, to prevent her from telling what she had seen. So the secret of their existence would be preserved.

  Egeon immediately gave him his okay for the reprogramming, without worrying about the consequences on the girl. He only thought of protecting his community and their project, which was so near completion. He would not leave a small ‘crane’ halt the work of several generations. After Mossa did the work, Egeon asked whether the reprogramming had worked. The hybrid told him yes, and Egeon had no choice but to believe him. The risk was enormous. Egeon had no way of knowing whether Mossa had actually done what he said he had done, whether the reprogramming had been successful, and whether he had even done the job.

  Everything hinged on trust that Egeon denied the hybrid. The problem was still pending. He could not keep Iris prisoner without drawing the City’s attention on them, and releasing her was a favourable bet on Mossa. He stepped back and took Galatea aside, to talk to her. He had no doubt she believed Mossa, but he needed to formulate aloud all aspects of the problem. In doing so, he knew he had no choice but to let her go, despite his fears. After making her swear not to tell anyone, Egeon let Iris go, by crossing the Unique Forest again. He also took a few steps forward, feeling the foamy ground between the trees. He put his hand on a trunk, and enjoyed the rough and cool touch. He looked thoughtfully at the tangle of branches and brambles lying before him. He had always belie
ved, like his predecessors, that the Forest protected them — and that if their hideout were ever discovered, the cause would be indiscretion from some members of his community.

  He felt that the protective barrier had somehow fallen, and they were all vulnerable to prying eyes. Why had Mossa spoken to this girl? Had he talked to someone else? How many young people in the City, to exhibit some sort of crazy bravado, had ventured into the Forest? Was this perhaps the consequence of disturbances in the City, which led children to commit suicide? Egeon felt like being at the edge of a precipice. He had to quicken the pace to reach their goal before someone found out about them, before the City exploded and destroyed them as collateral damage, and had to be careful not to fall, not to commit to ‘imprudence.’ The bet was risky; the issues were important. The future came down to a narrow path, which they should not miss.

  Once Iris left, Egeon asked everyone to go home, promising to say a word about what had happened during the general meeting the next day. He also went home and lay down beside Galatea, who had gone back a few minutes earlier. He took his wife in his arms and buried his face in her hair, as he did every time he needed to calm down. The warmth of her body, the smell of her perfume, her regular breathing had the power to soothe him. He felt his shoulders relax slightly, and his heartbeats became less intense. Galatea fell asleep quickly, and her breathing became shallow. He loved watching her sleep, holding her in his arms to protect her sleep. He closed his eyes, hoping to rest a little before the upcoming busy day.

  He could not, however, go back to sleep; his mind continue to boil all night long. First, there was Mossa, and now this girl ... He sensed imminent danger, an evil shadow ready to pounce on them. Obviously, it was just an impression, but he felt like peeking into a future that he did not want at any cost.

  Still anxious the next morning, he woke up as quietly as possible so as not to wake Galatea up. He barely reached the doorknob when she told him, whispering, to make some coffee. He sighed, smiling, and wondered if he would be able one day to get up quietly enough to preserve his wife’s sleep. He stared at her with the intensity of love and years of complicity, and went into the kitchen. The invigorating scent of freshly ground coffee embalmed the room, complemented by toasted bread. He quickly slipped in one of the rooms to prepare for his meeting, letting Galatea enjoy breakfast alone.