by James Harris
Grayer stepped closer to the mirror.
It was true. Grayer touched his face as if it were not his own. There were no wrinkles, clefts, scars, or imperfections. The fusion of the two sets of genes had had immediate physiological effects on Grayer’s body.
Grayer toweled off and wrapped the towel about his waist. Bohr had left a pile of fresh clothes by the door. It was a short-sleeved blue Air Force uniform made of light summer material. He dressed and left the bathroom for the stark fluorescent glare of the lab.
Bohr rushed over. Grayer avoided him and kept his distance the best he could. The wretched odor of human maleness began to disgust him again.
“How was the shower? Feeling better, are we?”
“Yes we are. You should try it sometime.”
“You’re joking, right? I had a shower this morning.”
“Have another. But yes, the shower helped. Thanks.”
Bohr dismissed the comment as an uncharacteristic result of the trauma of the chamber. “You look warm and comfortable now. Feel like telling me what just happened?”
“I’m guessing you want the long version, huh?”
Bohr leaned back and made himself comfortable. “I’m a research scientist. I have nothing but time. Why not start with this strange contraption, this chamber that almost killed you. You seem to know a lot more than me about it.”
“OK, get ready,” Grayer said. “We call it a Transition Chamber, a device that facilitates the transition of data from the crypt-orb into the brain of the recipient inside the chamber.
“Most often it is used for instruction and learning. For instance, if the occupant of the chamber wishes to learn about the spacecraft or the nearest solar system or the history of Sargon, those data are stored within the craft and can be downloaded into their mind. We call them pods.”
“Downloaded? How? How could data be transmitted from a spaceship into the brain of a human?”
“I’m not a scientist. I have only a cursory understanding of the mechanics of the transition, but such questions are readily answered using a learning pod.”
“But the machine is destroyed.”
“Alas, it is.”
“So only you can answer the question.”
“I’ll do my best, but I may have forgotten most of what I once knew about the ship’s technical mechanics. Just because I’ve learned things doesn’t mean I can recall them. The ship’s biomechanics is complex. On my planet we used refresher pods to recall almost all technical data. But I’ll give you a general insight into how it works.”
He focused and began to answer. “The data are downloaded slowly from the orb through the liquid medium …”
“That green gel-like liquid?”
“Yes. The medium carries the data, like a river would carry a log, toward a specific relevant part of the brain. Under specific guidance from the computer, the gel penetrates the porous skin and skull tissue and electromagnetically couples with that area of the brain.
“There’s a protein portal that will accept new data in rapid succession and in great volume. There’s a specific protein code that will allow access to this portal. If that code matches the data stream, the gate will open and allow the electromagnetic transfer.”
“Otherwise?”
“Otherwise, the brain shunts the data off elsewhere.”
“How did your engineers figure out this code?”
“Humans have a finite number of g-code combinations. The liquid medium sends a genetic sample of blood to the computer, and the computer responds with the gene code that includes the primary protein gate key.”
“How do the data physically enter the body?”
“The data is electrically charged and guided through the porous skin, then the bloodstream, and into the brain portal. The data is swept along by tagging onto the neutrinos of neutrons in the resident protein in the blood. The data is incorporated electromagnetically into the brain’s memory cells by infiltrating the biological membrane of the brain matter.
“This protein-based membrane accepts new electrically charged data as ‘valid memory.’ Once the data are attached, the electronic charge of the data switches to neutral, a signal from the protein that it has been accepted as legitimate new data, and they become resident in the brain.”
“The gate key is the charged data,” Bohr said. “And then the next flow of data enters and is introduced and accepted?”
“Exactly. Subsequent data stream into the brain and lodge beside existing data.”
“Can the brain run out of room?”
“Good question. The answer is yes. The organic brain is finite. As more and more data accumulate, the mind makes an unconscious decision to prioritize information. Dormant data (recognized by oxidization) are relegated to a low-priority section of the brain, deeper within and harder to access. Only a small cue is kept resident in the surface section. That cue is used to retrieve data from the deep brain when the data are needed.”
“You called the ball a crypt-orb.”
“Well, that is the closest English translation. We have used these devices for so long back on Sargon, I can’t recall their origin. The crypt-orb has always been a digital storage tool for our race. It goes back thousands of years. For our space voyages, it was used as a means of storing the genetic and intelligence codes from our human brains to facilitate long interstellar flight and avoid the ravages of aging. Frozen organic matter will deteriorate quickly over time because it needs oxygen ions to keep the synapses firing in the brain. A frozen brain will never function properly again, so cryogenics is not a solution for deep space flight. Data stored in the crypt-orb do not deteriorate. It can be re-introduced safely into humans.
“The information that’s digitally stored within the crypt-orb was transferred into Frank Grayer’s body when you activated the transition mechanism. Frank, and everything that makes him ‘Frank,’ is still there, too. He shares his human mind and physical form willingly with Kor, who is also human – albeit a highly intelligent and evolved human from a different solar system.”
Bohr scrunched his face. “You mean like a parasite.”
Grayer looked at him sharply and did not respond.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean that in a derogatory sense. I’m just trying to understand.”
“No, that’s not what has happened here. A parasite feeds off the host and contributes nothing. Frank and Kor are symbiotic entities sharing a single human form – in this case, Frank’s body.”
They talked well into the night. Because of Bohr’s scientific background – his father was the internationally renowned physicist Niels Bohr – and keen interest in physics, the conversation focused on quantum physics, mechanical physics, space and time, how humankind has changed, and how it is yet to change in the future. The time passed quickly and they only skimmed the surface of these subjects
Kor revealed to Bohr the consistency of the universe: how black space appears empty, inert, and matter-less. However, the seeming lack of matter is not nothing. Light travels through and exists within the universe. It is as harmonic as sound, as music. Light, and harmony, and time, and space are all interrelated.
All living things are known to respond to the harmonics of the universe, regardless of their intelligence. But the more intelligent the creature, the more likely it is to be able to understand and channel these harmonics. On Sargon, the creature’s mind recognizes the
harmonics, amplifies them, and can direct them toward other creatures.
Most of these bio-magnetic pulse waves are not found in the human hearing range, although certain push harmonics cross over into the audible frequency spectrum. The siren’s song of sailing mythology is one such example. So are the songs of dolphins and whales – some audible, some not. Kor explained that, in his time, two symbiotic creatures could generally communicate without any using audible sound waves at all. On his planet, the resident computer understood intention through mental patterns and acted accordingly without verbal commands. Thus two Gifted humans needed only to visualize their intentions to communicate.
He explained that humans on Sargon had mind-control powers over animals and less intelligent humans. This technique was called the push. Thought commands, in the form of harmonic bio-magnetic impulses, are pushed from the sender to the receiver telepathically, like boats crossing a pond, using the energy in air waves.
The receiver’s brain receptors subconsciously recognize the ultrasonic harmonics and decode them. This process is subliminal. Unless trained to ward off a push, the receiver is not usually aware of the intrusive communication. The encoded thought is translated by the receiver and appears in his mind as if it had originated there. The receiver then acts on that thought. In other words, a simple-minded receiver will obey a command simply because he believes that thought to be his own and not someone else’s. A push is more effective if there is eye contact and both parties can interpret each other’s body language.
Telekinesis, Kor explained, was another practice akin to the push and required similar skills.
Telekinesis does not require a human receptor. All matter, organic and inorganic, is universally harmonic – it depends upon the purity of that matter’s harmony. Inanimate (inorganic) matter has a permanent, nonflexible, and never-changing harmonic (non-unique) address. Living (organic) matter has a flexible, unpredictable, and unique address – in humans it is known as a Signature. Telekinesis is the ability to send a harmonic command – strong sequential multiple waves – to an inanimate object, resulting in a reaction such as movement from one point to another.
The sender does this by subliminally identifying the address of the object and transmitting a multiple-wave surge through the air, a push of electromagnetic energy that is harmonically calibrated to be identical to the object’s address. The object reacts in tandem with the macro-wave stimulus and “rides the wave” of the sender’s projection, like an address code.
The projection is amplified simply by varying the intensity of the push. The end result? The object moves in direct proportion to the energy propelled.
“But it takes practice, I have to admit,” Kor said. “Most humans, even from my time, were incapable of significant telekinesis. It involved huge investment in terms of patience and education. The most important thing was being in sync with the harmonics of nature.”
“Were you able to do this?”
“I was, of course. I was trained by the best. I believe it was mostly due to my genes, my ancestry. I was known to be part of an elite group of wizards.”
“Kor was a wizard?”
“I was. I certainly didn’t have much patience. But I was well taught.”
“By whom?”
“I was taught the secrets of the world around me by my parents and a master wizard.”
“Not by one of your teaching orbs?”
“No. A machine cannot teach you this. Ultimately, I was tutored by someone called Master Asunda. He was assigned to me by my father.”
“How did they know you could be trained to be a wizard?”
“We are all genetically pre-chosen. My existence followed a long line of wizards. My mother was a wizard.”
“And your father?”
“His lineage has the gift of the Song.”
“And what of Asunda? How did your family know of him?”
“His father taught my father. We were similar in many ways. He was my best friend, except for my broth …”
“Brother? Tell me about him. Did he travel with you?”
Kor’s eyes glazed over. “I don’t wish to discuss this subject. I no longer have a brother. He was lost to me.”
He then shared some more elementary science – such as quantum mechanics theorems – from Sargon. Bohr, in turn, shared with Grayer accounts of Earth’s historical events, such as the great Copenhagen conference of 1932, which his father Niels Bohr had chaired. The conference was the first and last of its kind because the fanatical German Nazi party would soon come into power and the country ceased to be a safe working environment. The year 1932 was one of great transitions, a miracle year for physics. A rapid succession of discoveries that year would bring the study of quantum mechanics to a new level and launch the field of nuclear physics.
Kor related how his advanced civilization had had a chance to test a multitude of scientific theories during millennia of real-life space experiences and intergalactic travel in the final cycle of mankind’s evolution on Sargon before the planet’s destruction by the sun.
Kor was quick to point out the irony that, in his time, most of the “real life” experiences that had been the building blocks for all the sciences on Sargon, were later learned not by experimentation, or trial and error, but by sitting mindlessly in a learning pod. The act of “doing” eventually became a long-forgotten art. His race finally became sedentary, eventually living below ground in an artificial world – the world above destroyed in a mass inferno.
The discussions ended abruptly when the seven o’clock shift arrived. The steel door opened with a resounding clang. A uniformed figure walked into the lab.
“Dr. Bohr, have you been up all night?” It was Sam, a South Korean who had served with the American army during the Korean War. He was now acting as military scientific assistant to Bohr.
“Frank and I had some problems with the chamber, Sam. I’m afraid it was irreparably destroyed in my last test.”
“Oh my God. You both all right? Frank, you look different.” Then, on closer observation, “Man alive, where are your eyebrows?”
Grayer hesitated. This new human upset him. He was aggressive and not very intelligent. Kor fought to remain calm. Pointing to the residual spill of green gel on the floor, he said, “Casualty of the test, I’m afraid. Chemical burn. My body hair was burned off by some reaction with the alien ship’s green chemical.”
“Not all your hair,” Sam said, pointing to Grayer’s head. “You’re lucky you’re not bald.”
Grayer touched his head and grinned. “You don’t know how lucky I am, Sam.”
CHAPTER38
Grayer took time off away from the base. The official line was that his absence was due to injuries from the test. Grayer and Kor were merging successfully into one whole new entity. The once-sharp contrast of experiences and memories faded as all their memories overlapped into one coherent system. It was more than Kor could have hoped for.
The biggest risk in his evacuation from Sargon had been the chance that the newly discovered human host would suffer a mental breakdown with the intrusion into his psyche. But Grayer’s mental state showed no signs of deterioration. He had stopped using speech to communicate with Kor. The two now shared thoughts, observations, and feelings. On the one hand, everything on the planet was new for Kor. On the other hand, it wasn’t. He was able to draw from the information stored in Grayer’s brain and now possessed a bank of memories from a life he’d never lived. On the other hand Grayer shared Kor’s wealth of knowledge.
But to see these individuals in a somewhat primitive culture living their daily lives was still a thrill for Kor. And through Kor’s perspective, Grayer saw the world around him differently, like an explorer. Trees, flowers, waterfalls, blue skies, and fresh air were luxuries. The way people interacted and talked and dealt with situations was a discovery.
There were, however, some major hurdles to overcome.
One of the first adjustments was the common diet. A
ny animal-based food was a gastronomic impossibility. Because of genetic realignment after the transition, Grayer was now seemingly intolerant to meat. He could no longer digest meat or meat-based fats. And he found the odor of meat-based food repulsive. To combat the smell, Grayer tried plugging his nose. It didn’t work. The stench of dead flesh still wafted through, making his eyes burn and his stomach turn. The food came back up.
About a week after the transition, force of habit, a craving really, led Grayer to drive to his favorite eatery, a local fast food restaurant. But the instant Grayer emerged from the car, his stomach heaved. Clouds of white smoke, containing minute particles of charred animal flesh and fat – invisible to humans, but not to Grayer with his newly acquired visible-frequency range – were being pumped out through the kitchen exhaust fans into the parking lot. It attacked his realigned stomach and his sensitive eyes.
He held onto the car door, telling himself to get a grip, and headed for the neon-lit glass doorway. He was torn between his love for burgers and repulsion. Smells of singed flesh burning on open charcoal grills, open trays of ground-up animal tissue, and globs of partially rotted fat wafted around the claustrophobic room. The circular meat patties, oozing with melted animal fat, were stuffed between two bread buns and sat waiting to be dispensed. The overwhelming odor, not to mention the concept of eating dead flesh, caused Grayer to run to the bathroom and vomit. The bathroom itself reeked of stagnant urine. An unflushed toilet contained the floating stools of a child. Pools of urine were puddled on the floor beneath the urinals. Grayer puked again. His eyes were watering so much he could barely see to find his way out of the restaurant.
He never returned.
Grayer modified his diet, and his newly pristine body was grateful. Milks, some processed sugars, and virtually all saturated fat–based derivatives were eliminated. Why this particular race of humans drank the milk of another species was beyond his comprehension. Instead, natural fruits, vegetables, and naturally occurring protein such as grains and nuts were blended into a simple protein mix that he consumed when hungry.
