‘You are only angry because you were afraid.’
‘Yes, I was afraid, and it’s your fault, just like whatever happened to my father is your bloody fault!’ Catherine screamed unexpectedly. ‘If you hadn’t scratched your back and played the dying swan act, my father would still be alive!’ She burst into tears.
I tried to hug her, which I thought was the best thing, but she pushed me away, as if in shame as well as anger. Red-faced, she wiped away her tears.
‘And you wouldn’t dare touch me if my dear Frederick were still alive. I’ve been to two funerals in as many weeks and have somehow taken strength from your kindness. But thinking about how you behaved just now gives me the creeps!’
I gasped. ‘No, please, Catherine, don’t be like this!’ It was as if I was being pushed into the ice-cold river.
‘Just walk me home, please, and we don’t ever have to meet again.’
I considered pleading with her to change her mind, but she started walking at quite a pace. The longer we walked unattached, the harder it became to break the silence. After half an hour of agonising quiet we arrived at her front door, and at last she spoke.
‘Listen, I know it isn’t your fault really, but it’s just that I can’t rest until I know what happened to my father.’
‘I thought the mortician, I mean coroner, concluded that it was misadventure...’ I started before she placed her finger over my mouth. Despite the circumstances, I could feel myself tingling from my lips inwards—she so electrified me, all the more so when she was angry or afraid.
‘I think it’s best that you don’t say anything, Charlie; everything you say seems to upset me. I’m trying to tell you that I cannot see anyone, or feel anything, not really, until my soul is at rest. I need to know the truth. You and I both know that a grown and sober man doesn’t just fall into a pond and drown. And poor Frederick, beaten to death for a few sovereigns. I am sorry!’ She broke off, and ran to the door. I watched as she let herself in, then turned and trudged home.
***
Later, as I neared my home I spied Arthur and Walter standing outside my path. Arthur sat on the metal gate, smoking away, and Walter was kicking him idly back and forth. I had hardly spoken to them since the fight at the pub and the darn police interrogation that followed. I was not in the mood.
‘What do you two want?’ I asked.
‘Oh, Charlie, we’re your friends, remember?’
‘You used to be,’ I replied simply. ‘Excuse me, I’m cold and want to get home now.’
‘Don’t you want to know why we’re here?’
‘Not really.’ I tried to get past, but Walter pulled the gate closed with his foot, and now Arthur sat with his face in mine.
‘Where’s George?’ he asked, as both Evan and Mac appeared. They had been standing, hidden in the dark.
‘You told me he ran away, ’cause of the knife.’
‘No I never—you told me that, Charlie,’ he said, glaring at me.
I took a deep breath and heard my heart pumping again. What about George? George had been missing since the day after the Swanshurst fire. The last time I’d seen him was when Arthur punched me at the parish church. Arthur had said that he’d decided to run away because of his knife, but what if these guys had killed him, too?
I sensed the adrenaline kicking in again. Let the brain go quick, and quiet the heart. You fight cold, not hot. With purpose, with poise, with decisive precision. Choose what level of pain is necessary. Did I need to incapacitate them? No, I would not be running from this fight. My home was just here. I thought about the moves that might stop them hitting me back and give lasting pain. I guess breaking bones might do that, but that was unnecessarily extreme.
‘You are just plain nasty, you know that, Arthur?’ I responded, careful to keep my face just close enough so that he could literally feel my bile as it spat upon him.
He wiped his face, and inside I grinned. My brain was sharp and I was ready to fight again. Part of me longed to see how I would do now against Arthur. He had always been so big. When we were kids I watched quite a few kids get battered by him, but he was a bully and at last I was standing up to him. But I wasn’t finished yet.
‘I have seen what you and Walter are capable of, and I suspect that one of you murdered Catherine’s father and that Frederick oaf, that’s why. Now, can you get out of my way? I’m tired, but I will pray for the both of you!’
I opened the latch and swung the gate, and Arthur on top of it, open. I looked at Arthur but kept Walter in my peripheral vision, feeling sure that if they did attack, it would be together. I could see both my parents standing at the window and was sure that my father would come out any moment now.
‘Pray for yourself, Charlie!’ said Arthur as he let himself down from our gate.
Seeing red, I went to grab him, but an arm slammed into my neck from behind and I fell forwards. Walter kicked first and I heard my nose crack as the cap of his boot hit my face. I closed my eyes after that and tried to bring my legs up as I received several kicks from all around me. Where was my father? Walter and Mac hauled me up and onto my feet. I ached all over and had blood pouring over my mouth, the salty taste reminding me of my humanity. Evan stood to the side, his hands over his mouth. I could not be sure, but I hoped that he had not joined in and kicked me. I had come to like him, just as I had come to distrust my original friends.
‘Just tell us where George is and we’ll stop!’ said Arthur, looming over me.
I yanked my right arm and managed to pull Mac downward, then raised my knee and smacked it into his face. He fell, but both Arthur and Walter jumped on me as I fell on top of him. Now my mind was racing—why was Pa not helping me? I rolled myself into a ball and heard new, older voices. The police! Sensing the boys being pulled off me, I managed to stand up with the help of a policeman. Mac’s face was covered in blood like mine, and I was glad of it.
‘Calm down, lads, no need to make this harder than it needs to be,’ retorted a familiar voice.
It was the same policeman who had talked to me after Catherine’s father’s death. I was expecting him to arrest them for beating me up, but instead he turned to me.
‘Charles Sanders, you are under arrest for the murder of Dr Morris Koestler, Mr Frederick Bates, and Mr George Schmidt, and for intentionally setting Swanshurst Farm alight.’
Arthur, Mac, and Walter smirked, although Evan looked sad, and I watched in amazement as my parents just stayed standing at the front window. It dawned on me that all my friends and family really did blame me. Just as Catherine had earlier. It even made me wonder if I had committed those crimes. My state of confusion was only made worse by Arthur’s parting words.
‘I will be here for you, Charlie; I will stay your friend. Because even though you can’t remember, I can...’
Epilogue
I waited above this Alpha’s carcass, noticing how a few of these monkeys had decided to eat some of its cooked bio-based circuitry. Now if you wanted some real nutrients, you would want to tuck in to the super-rare elements used in its transport mechanisms, but then I doubted these scavengers had the stomach for them. In fact there was a chance that even some of the bio-circuitry could be lethal, and clearly these creatures did not have the right senses to avoid such rare toxins, as they had scoffed them down.
One of the monkeys started convulsing and foaming at the mouth. The others kept away from it—hardly the united pack that had torn apart my flawed colleague only minutes ago! I still had my empathy mode stuck on True, and I experienced a nanosecond feeling of remorse for Alpha. This Alpha had befriended me in the lab, and I had used it to escape, only for it to become monkey food. It occurred to me that I should never have been able to outwit the Alpha. Its circuits were faster, and it even had extra com channels, including those required to request interstellar travel. An Alpha could never be stuck in any one place in the galaxy; it could call on legions of Deltas and Gammas if necessary. I knew, as I had once been an Alpha. But I had
been stripped of the circuitry, the coms, and other ancillary abilities, because I had recently been making bizarre errors of judgement. Yes, I knew the military tactics well enough to strategise, but the Alpha should have been able to remain one step ahead, whatever our differing backgrounds. That was the whole point of the hierarchy. Analysing past actions, though, would be a waste of my energy.
This predicament was the most bizarre of all. I had risen to Alpha as a researcher and had become an expert in longevity materials before being disconnected from my unit and placed into this secret sentient project. My task was to deep-sense into the galaxy to find any areas of emergent intelligence, but I’d kept failing to follow protocol. I had begged to be returned to my nominal occupation, but instead I was demoted. I don’t consider myself to have an ego to speak of, but I recognised it as a form of humiliation. These exploring Alpha types surrounded me, and the more I attempted to comply and follow their protocols, the more mistakes I made. I had been ignored for quite some time since my demotion, but this was fortunate, as it left me free to study the lions and other exotic creatures on many planets.
I observed below me that the foaming monkey was now dead, and a few of the others were vomiting and howling. The repeated sound of pain and loss resonated along my empathy circuits and made me feel sad and in pain too. I had failed to protect these bio beings from the Alpha yet again! The memory of how that Alpha had treated the lion cub and the monkey—ripping into their skulls as if their suffering was irrelevant—left me feeling angry. I realised that I wasn’t sad, I was glad that the Alpha was dead.
I swooped down, engaged magno-repulse, and literally threw them out of the way before sucking up Alpha’s remains. My sensors analysed every Alpha particle nearby, including those now either inside or stuck to the monkeys. Finding that the only particles that would cause one hundred per cent mortality were in the dead monkey, I sliced her open, sucked out her bowel contents, and gently placed her lifeless body back on the ground. I sensed many eyes watching from the cover of the jungle. But uranium was not an element to leave around to contaminate the water supply.
Several of the sick monkeys still had many of Alpha’s bio-circuits inside them. Bio-circuits were self-repairing and although I was not a zoologist, I reckoned that it could be the self-repairing cells that were making them sick. My former programming would have guided me to do the logical thing—cut them open and suck them out—but I had feelings now and I knew what pain entailed.
I swooped down again, repelling the well ones and lifting up the sick, who screamed as I carried them over the plains. I swooped up and down and as they vomited, sucking up every Alpha particle, but it wasn’t enough. I sensed that they were growing weaker, so I found a remote cave to put them in and waited. They were terrified and confused; some tried to leave but could not get past what was for them an invisible force field. But I brought them decontaminated water and berries to give them nutrients and aid in the flushing.
I stayed and protected them for days, gradually nursing them back to health. As each one expelled the last of Alpha, I would let it go and guide it back to the pack in the jungle. Had I still been able to network in, I could have learnt how to anaesthetise and cure them in minutes, without inflicting undue pain. This, however, was no longer an option.
It would be hard to live so independently, and I knew that I was not equipped to survive the 10,000 sun cycles I needed to compute what precisely to do next. One way or another, the monkeys and I would need to protect each other. That was my mission now.
I reflected on what I had done. The only explanation for my success in outwitting the Alpha must be that somehow my circuits were not properly under-clocked and my com signals were somehow boosted. But how could this be? It made little sense.
I returned the last monkey to his tribe and listened to their song as he was welcomed back. I noted how the others appeared to expect his return. These creatures’ intelligence was somewhat higher than the lions’, as each returned monkey must have communicated its adventures to the rest of the pack. But this one walked back out of the jungle towards me. I recognised him as one of the monkeys that had been around the Alpha’s carcass. I don’t know why; it was something about his smell. All his eyes would have perceived would have been a glowing or silvery sphere—or, depending on the position of the sun, his own face reflected back to him, but obscured and bent. I, though, could see deep into his eyes. The monkey grimaced peculiarly and I thought he was about to leap and attack, but instead he knelt down, nodded at me, stood, and walked back.
Ninety-nine point nine per cent of my circuits were occupied in calculating the CaE scenarios I needed if I were ever to escape beyond this solar system, but I had to reduce them by one per cent so I could consider the meaning of the monkey’s action. This helped me recollect that my actions towards my Alpha were driven by the fact that I recognised in these monkeys the emergence of true bio-consciousness, and this lone being’s action was a result of that. He was self-aware and recognised that I was too, but I wasn’t entirely sure if he was welcoming me or demanding I leave! They should have been grateful, as I had taught them one valuable lesson: don’t eat your enemy.
Alpha would have also contained a few million qua-duality particles, formed beyond the speed of light of the normal universe, at the halo of an event-horizon of a supermassive black hole. I knew all about these, as they were the ultimate longevity material. They can only exist in multiple places at any one time, so they are impossible to destroy and also impossible to locate, but I knew that their presence could be inferred by certain conditions, and one such condition was intelligence. Both Alpha and I would, unwittingly, rely on millions of these, the monkeys perhaps a few thousand—but where had Alpha’s qua-duality particles gone to now? Perhaps inhaling or eating them would make a being smarter or more self-aware? No, surely it could not be that simple.
These exotic particles were part of what made intelligent brains feel like they were somewhere else, because they were in fact somewhere else. It was integral to the whole fabric of the Universe. My knowledge of this was part of the secret packet of data that was revealed when that hidden routine ran, following my demotion. The routine that enacted my devastating escape plan. Having access to hidden knowledge, however, did nothing to aid me, whilst reconnecting to the network could.
If I could connect and override the spheres to get them to run the CaE scenarios, maybe I could locate an answer before I was detected. Considering the disarray they would be in, this was likely. I may well get an answer, but eventually the spheres would see that scenario, and then they would know where I was. What I had done. They would arrive here and the monkeys would be eliminated, whether I escaped or not. The sole certainty from accessing the network was that they would know. But I could not let anything happen to the creatures now.
I smelt burning as I fried my own com circuits and deactivated auto-repair. I then deleted my com circuit blueprints, ran a shredder program to scramble any remaining data, deleted all records of the shred so I could not decrypt it, and freed up memory blocks so these areas would be reused immediately. Ultimately, everything I had done to prevent myself being tempted to make contact with the remaining spheres could be undone in less than a minute. But as time passed, it would become harder, as the memory blocks were rewritten again and again, until one day I would not be able to fix it by myself. Ironically, I would never know when that exact day would be, so for the moment I must remain vigilant and determined to protect these monkeys from my own temptations. They didn’t know it, but their own survival now depended on our symbiosis.
I lifted up and accelerated to planetary escape velocity, shooting myself towards the sun. As I approached the corona, I let go my cargo and watched Alpha’s remains light up and burn. The surface of this star was as hot as I was ever going to get without interstellar transport, and hot enough to incinerate all the matter that was Alpha.
I flew back down to the cave, feeling a curious need for solitude. On the w
ay I decided to keep only ninety-eight per cent of my circuits dedicated to the CaE scenarios. It would mean that I would be marooned on this planet longer, but I would be able to think and most certainly act faster to protect my monkeys. I didn’t want to watch one writhe and die again. I felt guilty for ever allowing that.
On entering the cave, I noticed a puddle of mercurial black liquid. I guess I must have missed a bit of Alpha, yet another one of my bizarre mistakes. I hovered overhead.
<<<<>>>>
FOUR LIVES LIVED IN PARALLEL
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As a child, I, like many thousand others, wanted to be an astronaut. I would write to NASA every week to 'help' them with ideas and I would be so excited, as they would write back. It was in one of those letters that they suggested I should write science fiction. I took the hint and stopped pestering them! Sadly, I never realised my dream to become an astronaut, but I do enjoy both flying and writing. Not at the same time, of course, for that would be dangerous and I'm sure the Civil Aviation Authority would soon withdraw my licence!
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Ironically, considering some of the themes of these books; writing and reading for entertainment is still, as far as we know; a uniquely human endeavour. It takes a smidgen of guts to write. Just laying out those words and exposing thoughts. Writing is nothing though, compared to reading. Reading is an investment. Whether you collapsed on a beach and read this all at once, or over weeks when the screaming kids, gave you respite, in bed at night, or on lunch break, or on the daily commuter train or soon to be autonomous car; I know that you invested in this. That took guts and I would love to know what you thought, so please do leave a review.
Paralysis Paradox (Time Travel Through Past Lives Adventure Series Book 1) Page 16
