by James Murdo
“Why is that difficult to understand?” Gil said, “It’s… manipulating the truth.”
“Well, I would agree because it stands to reason that if we were somehow able to attack and destroy the Deliverer, the sensespace would be able to infect the galaxy unimpeded, but…”
“What is confusing?”
“It still showed you all that it did. Which would make no sense–”
“Unless it does make sense,” 998 said.
“Yes, indeed.”
“What?” Gil said.
998 presumably realised whatever it was that One-oh had concluded only moments before, as it began flashing wildly.
“What do you mean?” she asked, again.
“Gil, the Deliverer really may be a weapon against the entire galaxy,” 998 said.
“But it’s supposed to be a weapon against the sensespace?”
[It may have concluded they are one and the same.]
*
Gil felt light-headed. If what the others were suggesting was true, everything made less sense than it did before. All the information had been there, ready for her to connect, but she had been unable, or unwilling. The craft-lect had finally spoken and explained, for her benefit as One-oh and 998 had come to the same conclusion for themselves, that her visions may have been a warning from the sensespace.
Through her visions, she had seen and felt how the sensespace was drawn to sentience within the galaxy, and tethered to it. The ABs had initiated the mass suicide all that time ago to thwart its advance, but as far as anyone knew, the fight was simply postponed – there was no way to beat the scourge. The Deliverer, the ABs’ failsafe and final chance at understanding how to destroy the sensespace, would have had access to the results of the Great Conflation and used that to update its hypothesis on how to destroy the sensespace. The craft-lect, One-oh and 998 believed it was possible that the Deliverer’s current hypothesis was that sentience had to be completely eradicated. Not subdued or crippled, but wiped out.
The only way to ensure this would be to destroy the galaxy. If the ABs really were gone or the Deliverer was beyond their control anyway, whether or not the ABs would have condoned its hypothesis was irrelevant.
“The sensespace wants to control or destroy life, while the Deliverer wants to tear the entire galaxy apart,” 998 said.
“That is how it could appear,” One-oh said. “Presuming the information contained within the visions is reliable and we have understood correctly.”
Her dizziness was subsiding, and the table-chamber looked sharper. Everything seemed more real, more visceral than before.
[Gil?]
“I’m okay. It’s just… a lot to take in.”
“Yes, it is,” One-oh said.
“We have to stop the Deliverer,” 998 said, flashing brightly.
“Perhaps,” One-oh said, staring directly into Gil’s wide eyes.
“How?” she asked.
“The sensespace may show you more… in time. Maybe you can ask.”
“How? It… it only showed me what it wanted. I don’t even know how it was… brought into the galaxy. The other side of the bridge, at the start…”
“There is nothing else you remember of that?”
“No… no, I’ve told you everything. But… what if all this is what the sensespace wants us to think? What if… what if we’re wrong about everything?”
[Indeed. To suggest the Deliverer is more dangerous than the sensespace alters everything. Were it to be proven true, the Wanderer civilisation would cease to exist.]
“And the others would be thrown into disarray, at the least,” One-oh said. “It’s almost unthinkable.”
One-oh looked at the far wall, away from the spacescape. His eyes were glazed over and his face was frozen. He looked unsure of himself. She knew he hated the sensespace every bit as much as her and was facing the same dilemma.
“Without knowing what is true, what can we do?” 998 said.
[We carry on.]
19
APALU
Apalu’s sensors continued to malfunction. Readings of ethereal masses far dwarfing itself were registered and then lost.
It was not only the sensors, but some of its other systems were also not working correctly. It had been keeping track of how long it had been within N-SOL space, but the information had become corrupted. Attempts to repeat the calculations had been met without success. There was now no way of finding how far it was likely to have travelled back in real space.
It considered, not for the first time, whether it was already lost to N-SOL space. The problem was that there had been no discrete change – that part was incongruous with the lost to N-SOL space theory. Unless it had already become lost, and the data was gone.
Having had enough, with no end in sight, Apalu decided it had to attempt something. It would use its singularity generator. It was unconvinced anything positive would result, but no other actions it could perform seemed likely to either. It did not feel lucky. It prepared to initiate the generator, when it stopped.
An external communication channel was being requested.
Scanning the environment unsuccessfully with its Wanderer sensors, it could find nothing. There was only the fabric of N-SOL space, nothing else. Yet, the communication channel request was still there. A Wanderer communication channel, at that.
Perhaps it had succumbed to the beginnings of madness, somehow facilitated through being in N-SOL space. In agreeing to establish the channel, there was a danger it could allow the madness to solidify its hold.
After short further deliberation, it decided to accept the channel request. It might be going mad, but anything was better than the monotony of existing alone in the swirling chaos.
[I wouldn’t do that, if I were you. Not sure what it’d do.]
[Who is this?]
[I’m referring to the singularity generator. Don’t do that.]
[Identify yourself.]
[You don’t recognise your old friend?]
[My old friend?]
[Your best friend!]
[I don’t have a best friend, who is this?]
[I’m hurt.]
Infuriatingly, Apalu could still find no trace of the signal’s origin. Nothing.
[You won’t find it.]
[Where are you?]
[Near.]
[Near?]
[Neighbours, again!]
[DeVoid?]
…
[DeVoid?]
…
[DeV–]
[THE ONE AND ONLY!]
[How are you here?]
[Oh, if only you could understand. There’s so much to tell you!]
[DeVoid, why are you here? You’re meant to be back at your data exchange portal.]
[Apalu, a lot’s gone on since you rudely, and maybe understandably, left your post without a word to me. A lot.]
[How about you start with telling me where you are?]
[I’m with you.]
[What do you mean?]
[Here, in N-SOL space, here to help you, I presume.]
[How?]
[Let me in, I’ll tell you everything.]
[What?]
[Oh, don’t be so precious, let me in!]
[How do I know–]
[Apalu, It’s me!]
[I’m going to request validating–]
[Look at you, with your fancy ship and your fancy validations. You don’t even know the meaning of data validation.]
[All the same–]
[FOR FLIT’S SAKE!]
[Fine… fine. But I’m downloading you into an enclosed simulation substrate, you will not have access to my ship.]
[Yeah, yeah, yeah. GET ON WITH IT!]
*
DeVoid’s story had been interesting, varied, and far-fetched. Apalu had validated it as much as it was able. DeVoid was, as far as Apalu could ascertain, DeVoid. Also, learning that Gil’s brother, Tor, had been somehow returned to life was pleasant. It gave Apalu hope concerning Ciqalo’s fate.
[I can’t believe you just let me in.]
[Stop it.]
[You’ve got to be more discerning, Apalu. I could have been anyone!]
[We’ve been through this. I was certain.]
[Yeah yeah.]
[I was.]
[Not even the simplest of checks…]
[You told me not to!]
[Did I?]
[Leave it, it worked out after all.]
[Luckily.]
[Anyway, your experiences…]
[If you had been a proper data-lect, you could have initiated a coupling. Would be WAY quicker.]
[I can. Should I do that?]
[NO!]
[Why not?]
[Excuse me for being insensitive, but your inexperience would give me considerable cause for concern. You have never tried it before and they are incredibly tricky, and dangerous.]
[Okay…]
[If only I had my abilities, not just my impressive intellect...]
[I still have to take precautions.]
[If you gave me some control, I could initiate a coupling myself?]
[You just told me I should have been more discerning in letting you on board.]
[But I’m here now!]
[No.]
[Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.]
[That’s fine. Control will remain my own.]
[Control?]
DeVoid giggled.
[Yes.]
[Fair enough.]
[So it’s this Cross-Prophet that’s keeping me here?]
[Yes, probably.]
[What do you think it is?]
[‘He’, I think. That’s how Tor and I have been referring to the entity, at least.]
[What do you think he is?]
[Honestly, I don’t know. I’d like to though, I really would.]
[Is he even on our side?]
[Subjective, but it seems that way.]
[And you’re a copy – another DeVoid is also travelling with Tor right now, on the way to the centre of the galaxy?]
[Yup. Not a copy though, thank you very much. Every zettabit as much myself as the other.]
[Okay, but–]
[Capable as flllllliiit.]
[Is that where the Cross-Prophet wants me, us, to go, as well?]
[No. You’re heading right where you need to be.]
[Why? I could help–]
[You are helping. We both are.]
[Why couldn’t this Cross-Prophet tell me himself? Why send you?]
[The ungratefulness!]
[Come on, DeVoid.]
[I assume you will need my help, that’s why.]
[Hmm…]
[And the Cross-Prophet can’t get too involved. Trust me, his answers were as infuriatingly opaque to Tor and myself, at first. My other self is probably still livid. And then, the Cross-Prophet just moved me here, I don’t know how, I wasn’t aware.]
[Really?]
[I wasn’t completely aware of how you and I had the earlier conversation, only that you had to accept my request to enter, and then I became myself again. Properly.]
[That makes no sense.]
[Just because you don’t understand it, doesn’t mean it makes no sense. I get the impression the Cross-Prophet can’t interfere too much. At least not too directly, or he doesn’t want to – I can’t decide. Wouldn’t have believed it if it hadn’t all worked out.]
[Is he still here?]
[I don’t know.]
[It seems like my mission is redundant.]
[What?]
[Why look for pulsar spew when Gil exists? When the Cross-Prophet is capable of all this, when I know the Deliverer is at the centre of the galaxy, why am I on this path?]
[We.]
[Why are we on this path?]
[Clearly, it’s important. He brought me to you, after all. Maybe you’ll discover something else on your mission.]
[Meaning?]
[Meaning, let’s just see when we get there.]
[And you really trust him?]
[My lect’s not made up, but why else would he do all this? Before I was copied, I doubted he’d really reunite me with you, but here I am. That’s if we both believe each other to be who each purports. Which we may as well, or else nothing makes sense.]
[I suppose there’s no reason he would have taken you here if it weren’t important…]
[Exactly!]
[So, why are you here?]
[I feel like you’ve asked that question quite a lot.]
Simultaneous with the conversation with DeVoid, Apalu sensed the mysterious masses again. They were everywhere, all around the ship. Still only visible in the barest sense, infuriatingly transient.
[DeVoid, are we alone?]
[Maybe, I don’t know, I don’t know if the Cross-Prophet is still out there. Why?]
[I don’t mean that. I keep detecting presences on the N-SOL sensors, all around us. Large groups of massive entities, or objects. They’re here, and then they vanish. Or my sensors malfunction, it’s not clear which is correct.]
[Oh, so that was real, in a sense…]
[What?]
[I don’t think your sensors are malfunctioning.]
[What are they?]
[I wasn’t exactly awake – cognitively present – on my way here, but I wasn’t exactly asleep, either. I was with the Cross-Prophet as he communicated with whatever is out there. That’s how it seemed, anyhow.]
[What?]
[He communicated with it or them, which I suppose insinuates some type of sentience. Maybe they’re whatever it was that communicated with Thy – could be interesting!]
[That’s–]
[I know, incredible. Exciting, isn’t it!]
[These things around me could be examples of life in N-SOL space?]
[Perhaps, yes. Come on Apalu, don’t be too slow. It’s embarrassing. I thought Tor was bad!]
[What’s your take on them?]
[I don’t know.]
[How do you know the Cross-Prophet spoke with them?]
[I was somehow present, I’ve told you though, I’m not sure how. But, I don’t think they completely understand each other, the Cross-Prophet and these entities. It was more like a mutual understanding.]
[Okay…]
[It’s probably why N-SOL space is treating you so kindly. He probably asked them not to harm you.]
[I suppose that’s useful, but all of this is irrelevant. My position will be abundantly clear, once we return to real space. Every lect in the entire galaxy will–]
[Come on Apalu, really, it’s like you’re being wilfully naïve! The N-SOL entities understand not to harm you. They wouldn’t do that.]
[What do you mean?]
[The unsubtlety of N-SOL travel, right after the Great Conflation, it’s not a coincidence.]
[A coincidence–]
[Or a tough connection to make.]
[They did it?]
[WELL DONE!]
[Those N-SOL entities made it more dangerous for us to use N-SOL space to travel?]
[Yes, they did. What else could it be?]
[Why would they do that?]
[Why wouldn’t they? Think about it Apalu, use that impressive little lect of yours. The sensespace is dangerous, it has infected our galaxy and our renowned ABs were forced to commit suicide – the only way to escape while also attacking the sensespace. Flit, even whatever they left behind, this Deliverer, is dangerous, apparently. You think these entities, here, want the same thing to happen to them?]
[Oh, they’re–]
[Defending themselves, yes! What any rational sentient would do.]
[What are they?]
[I don’t know. But, as we’ve established and you’re slowly grasping, they’re alive and sentient in some sense.]
[What is N-SOL space?]
[No idea. But I think it’s more complex, or at least different, than the ABs led us to believe.]
[It’s a habitat…]
[Obviously.]
[Is it another universe? Are we
in another universe?]
[Come on Apalu, didn’t I tell you what the Cross-Prophet told Tor and myself? He strongly insinuated we can’t cross the boundaries between the spaces, the multiverse.]
[He wasn’t the most specific–]
[I agree, but I don’t think he was lying. Which means N-SOL space is still contained within our universe, whatever it is.]
20
CRAFT-LECT
The craft-lect was analysing its long-range sensors in detail, trying to glean any information about the Maspero sentinels ahead – they were proving difficult to probe at this distance. It hoped soon to be able to study them better, before they were within communications range, although knew that was unlikely.
“There is nothing else you can extract?” One-oh asked. He was sitting alone in the table-chamber, looking out at the galaxy. One of his legs was folded over the other, and his hands were clasped, motionless, on his lap.
[Nothing of significance, we are too far.]
“We’ll have to wait then.”
[Yes. How is your body?]
One-oh took a moment before replying.
“I am very pleased, thank you.”
[You are becoming re-accustomed?]
“Yes, I believe I am. Quicker than I had expected.”
In transferring One-oh back into a biological body, the craft-lect had created one of the most advanced, heavily-augmented cognitive organs at its disposal, before loading him into it. One-oh’s mind was not as complex as Gil’s, although it was still too complex to be fully analysed by the craft-lect.
[You are resilient, One-oh.]
One-oh did not reply immediately, his head bowed as he took in a deep influx of air. The craft-lect was undecided about whether this act was purposeful or not.
“Gil.”
[Yes?]
“Have you considered asking her to probe the sentinels?”
The craft-lect had mused over whether to ask her to attempt to probe the sentinels through the sensespace, before deciding against it. It was too dangerous – she was connected to it, but she did not understand how. Her recent experiences showed the type of interaction was evolving, from simple auditory-like experiences to those akin to simulated reality. She had received quantifiable information from it, which was something that was unthinkable in the galactic community – and that had happened at levels of sensespace infection below its own detection threshold. When that was added to her previously demonstrated abilities to sense hidden components of the sensespace and manipulate the minds of her fellow communers, the risk was too great that she might accidentally provoke the sentinels. She also needed some time to assimilate what she had been shown, to explain her understanding to them, and to work through the necessary emotional responses.
