Divergence a-3

by Tony Ballantyne

  Did some evolutionarily stable strategy arise here, where the inhabitants found it advantageous to share everything equally? Each mound thus adding one level onto itself only when every other mound did the same. It wasn’t like that on Earth, where trees used to compete to reach the sunlight first. Did this equality arise here, or was it written here from another source?

  The flickering light was making her feel badly disoriented. She could feel herself slowing down, losing interest even in the hacking cough that racked her body, and she recognized the signs of an approaching epileptic fit. It was time to get out of here. She took a last look around the orange dust and the towers, and then staggered backwards from this world out of time. She only just remembered…

  …to keep her feet on the blue duckboards.

  Constantine was waiting for her when she emerged, wiping his hands together as if cleaning them.

  “Where is the Watcher?” asked Judy.

  “Gone,” said Constantine. “He was just waiting for me to pass across the final confirmation of what I saw in the ziggurat. And he wanted to speak to me. I knew his wife once, for a brief time.”

  “The Watcher had a wife?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “She died, I fear. You know the Watcher’s rule about digital life. You can’t barter with FE. Humans have only so much life and they can’t buy more.”

  “He allowed his own wife to die?”

  “The Watcher expanded her life span considerably, but in the end he was bound by FE. And that’s not all, because, despite everything, he tried to be a moral creature. He learned that from us. He learned everything about who he was by watching humans.”

  “Where has he gone?”

  “I don’t know. He was running on processing spaces here on Earth, and now he is not. Does that mean he is dead? If he is now running instead in a processing space one thousand light years away, does that mean he has resurrected himself, or just gone out of the room? I honestly don’t know.”

  “Oh.”

  Constantine helped her off from the duckboards and back into the corridor beyond. She leaned against the robot, feeling its cool metal skin. Everything seemed so silent now, such an anticlimax. She coughed again, spat yellow phlegm onto the floor. Phlegm from nine-billion-year-old dust?

  “I’m sorry,” she said, realizing suddenly what she had done. “That was terribly rude of me.”

  “That’s okay,” Constantine said.

  She looked listlessly up and down the corridor, waiting for something to happen.

  “It all seems so quiet now,” she said, “and I don’t know what to do. I’ve come all the way back here like I was supposed to.” She raised her voice. “Hey! Building! DIANA! What do you want me to do ?”

  “Return to your room and await instructions.”

  “But there are no more instructions coming,” Judy complained. “Don’t you realize that? DIANA is long gone.”

  “Return to your room and await instructions.”

  “Oh, what’s the use? Constantine, what am I supposed to do now?”

  The robot tilted his head as if listening.

  “Who are you speaking to?” asked Judy.

  “Aleph,” Constantine said.

  “What is he saying?”

  “He is suggesting we get above ground. He says that there are fourteen billion people currently living on Earth, and they are entitled to one fourteen billionth part of it each.”

  “Sorry?”

  “The Watcher is gone. The FE program is back on track. I think they are about to divide everything up.”

  edward 3: 2252

  Edward wasn’t reallyso frightened: he had seen this happen before, back on the Eva Rye . He knew, when the ground began to shiver and tear itself into long shreds that waved about like anemones in the water, that all he had to do was look for the patch of stillness that was sure to be there and to head towards that. He knew, when the stone faces of the surrounding buildings cracked into warm smiles, and wrinkles formed around the windows of their eyes, that the objects in his vicinity were re-forming themselves into new shapes. He knew, when the light cut out, blocked by a maelstrom of swarming material, and the air was hot and smelling of metal, that he had only to wait patiently and the storm would pass and the world would re-form in new and interesting ways.

  But, even so, this was different from before. Something invisible was stalking the Earth, something nurtured in the distant past; it had ripped its way to the surface, where it sniffed and tasted its new environment, and tried to understand the world into which it had been born. It placed a foot in the middle of what had been Berlin, and the buildings drew back in horror, and then fused together. It walked up the west coast of England, whereupon the Lite train tracks plated with silver the hemispherical depressions that opened beneath its feet.

  Edward saw the Earth rendering up its riches. The sky was a deep pinkish orange pierced by silver masts that were visibly growing upwards. Silver birds were tearing themselves free from the mast tops and flying off in long dark streams through the heavens.

  The surrounding city was dissolving into a crystal grey sea; the buildings were melting and slipping beneath the waves. Silvery shapes, painted by the pink light, floated upwards like sea creatures from another world, floating up into the aquarium sky.

  And the sound—the howls and screams and whoops of air being pushed and bellowed and farted from the pneumatic pistoning of machinery sliding over machinery.

  Warm water splashed over Edward’s face. He saw Saskia, her face pale and eyes wide, as she wiped her hand across her brow and shook the excess moisture free.

  Pale eggs bobbed up from beneath the silver sea of the dissolved ground, rainbow colors spreading over them. They were ships, just like the original Eva Rye, but Edward ignored them, his attention drawn to a deepening pit not far away where the watchtower had once stood. Judy had walked into the building that had formed there. Then the building had collapsed in on itself, and he knew this meant she was dead. He just didn’t want to believe it.

  Suddenly Maurice was pulling at his arm, pointing and shouting something that got lost in the unearthly shrieking chorus generated by the flux of the shifting machinery. Saskia was skittering forward, her legs moving twice as fast as they should be, running along on the backs of a herd of silver beetles heading in the opposite direction. Maurice held up both arms, elbows outwards to protect his head and charged forward through the falling curtain of metal ribbons that slithered from somewhere above. Edward got the idea and followed him, racing down the slope of bare earth and loose stone that led to the center point of what had been the watchtower. Then he saw something silver and black ahead, a cross that floated indistinctly in the air. Saskia, too, was running towards the cross, her face bleeding from a cut on her left cheek. Maurice picked his way downwards more cautiously behind her, and suddenly Edward realized what they were looking at.

  The silver-and-black cross resolved itself into a familiar shape. It was Constantine, carrying Judy to safety from the ever widening pit into which the DIANA building was collapsing. It was an exercise in futility, for all of the surrounding Earth was slipping downwards. Maurice, Saskia, Constantine, Judy, even Edward himself, all would soon be swallowed up. Edward felt a swell of pride at his crew: that hadn’t stopped any of them rushing forward to help.

  Saskia was there first. She placed a hand, red blood dripping from a deep gash near her wrist, onto Judy’s white cheek. Maurice arrived next, placing his arm protectively around Saskia. Now Edward was there too, Judy looking up at him with a weak smile on her pale face. He noticed the way her left leg hung limply. She must have hurt it escaping from the transforming building. The chorus of shrieking was increasing, and a busy regular rhythm—as of mandolins playing—was taken up by the machinery.

  Saskia wrapped her arms around Judy and gave her a huge hug. Maurice placed a gentle hand on Edward’s shoulder and Edward beamed widely. They
were all together again, and friends at last, here at the end. Blinking away tears, Edward looked up through a cloud of discs, like silver pennies thrown into the air, looked up higher and higher into the cold air and thought of the glittering stars beyond.

  “Hey, look!” he called out, though it was still difficult to hear anything. Nonetheless they all turned and felt a cold awe settle over them. Up there in the sky, the black harlequin pattern of the Shawl was slowly breaking up as it disassembled itself into its constituent parts.

  The sky was falling down.

  But it didn’t end there. The shifting landscape sheltered them safely through the storm. All over the Earth, people would tell the same story.

  And eventually there was a dawn.

  Edward never quite grasped the subsequent events. To begin with, Maurice kept trying to explain things to him, but there was too much to look at. The storm had passed, but now they viewed a world in transition: a bright shifting dawn.

  Great, rainbow-striped teardrop ships—just like the original Eva Rye —were spontaneously forming amongst the ever-shifting landscape, and they watched time and time again as disparate groups of people climbed on board through the rear exit hatch, all of them wearing the familiar slippery shapes of n-string bracelets on their wrists.

  “Everyone on Earth has an equal quantity of material allocated to them to begin with,” Maurice explained. “Some people are pooling their share to make ships like the Eva Rye . They are heading off now to begin trading.”

  Edward smiled at the thought. “We need to get back to our ship.”

  “How do we do that, Edward?” Maurice asked, looking at his console. “All of the Lite train tracks will be gone. There is no property held in common anymore. Everyone is taking their fair share of what’s available.”

  “But the Lite train tracks don’t belong to them!” Edward protested. “We need them to get back to our ship.”

  Maurice wasn’t really listening, still too busy staring at his console. Staring but smiling. Saskia explained instead.

  “But who did the Lite train tracks belong to, Edward?”

  “Everyone!”

  “I suppose you’re right,” Saskia said thoughtfully. “But I don’t think that’s how we used to think. This is going to take a bit of getting used to.” An idea occurred to her. “Maybe we can get a lift from one of these FE ships,” she said brightly, pointing to three nearby rainbow teardrop ships that bobbed above the silver ground like tethered balloons.

  “Maybe you can,” Maurice said with quiet satisfaction. He was now scanning the cold blue sky. Edward looked up, too, wondering what he was searching for. There was music on the cold wind, the smell of spices and newness. Then Edward saw it in the distance: a dark speck, coming closer.

  “Are you leaving us, Maurice?” Judy asked. She limped along behind them, one arm over Constantine’s shoulder.

  “Yes,” Maurice said simply.

  Edward felt a pain deep in his stomach. He was surprised to find tears pricking at his eyes.

  “But why, Maurice?” he asked.

  At first, Edward didn’t think that Maurice was going to answer. When he did, his voice had lost its usual impatience.

  “I’ve done my work on the Eva Rye, Edward. We all have. Now I’ve bought myself a place on another ship.” He gave a sly smile. “The Fourier Transform. ”

  “You work fast,” said Saskia, a hint of bitterness in her voice.

  “Don’t be like that, Saskia. You didn’t expect us to stay together forever, did you?”

  “Well, no, but…”

  “But what about Saskia?” Edward asked. “I thought you and she were friends!”

  He looked from the man to the woman, honestly confused. Maurice smiled back, almost sympathetically.

  “No, Edward, it’s not like that. Well, we are friends, but…” He hesitated, lost for words. In the end he settled for giving the big man a simple hug.

  Awkwardly, they disengaged. Edward looked at Judy for an explanation.

  “Are you sure about this, Maurice?” she asked. “Who are you entering this ship as? You, or someone else?”

  “As myself,” Maurice said. He held up his console. “Whatever is already on board has been broadcasting its wares for anyone interested. A formal way for determining proof. An even number that is not the difference of two primes. A recursive set for everything. A solution for an NP-complete problem, and all the other NP problems tumbling into P.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Mathematical impossibilities. Apparently they’re not impossible on this ship. How can I resist that offer?”

  A rainbow ship was now skimming towards them. The Fourier Transform . Already the rear ramp was dropping down. The ship was rotating as it flew, bringing the rear ramp around to face them.

  “So this is good-bye,” Saskia said sadly. “Will you keep in touch?”

  Maurice just smiled at her and gave her a last hug. Clarinet music could be heard drifting from the ship’s interior. Something old-fashioned and complicated.

  “Bye, Edward,” he said, holding out his hand, and Edward shook it. The shadow of the big ship slid over them.

  “Let me know what happens, Judy,” said Maurice. “What are you thinking of doing now?”

  Judy just looked tired.

  “I don’t know yet. I need to think.”

  “Good-bye, Maurice.” That was Constantine. Maurice just nodded in response. Slowly, the great rear ramp of the Fourier Transform edged closer. There appeared to be a robot standing on it.

  “That’s not a robot,” said Edward, taking a closer look. “What is it?”

  “That’s Eric,” said Maurice. “He’s an alien. We’re going to be seeing a lot more of them from now on.”

  The ramp came to a halt just by their feet, and they all stared at Eric. Eric was bigger than Edward, with silver skin that looked as if it had been stitched in place. His knees bent the wrong way. He raised a hand in greeting.

  “Hello, Eric,” Maurice said.

  Eric opened a pink mouth to show yellow needle teeth. An unearthly cackling noise emerged. Maurice held up his console so they all could see the words that scrolled across it. Hello, Maurice. So pleased to meet you in the flesh. Please come on board. Maurice stepped onto the ramp. Almost immediately the ship began to rise into the air.

  “Good-bye,” he said, turning to them.

  “Good-bye,” Edward said. He raised a hand to wave as Maurice was taken away from them. Already the other man had turned his back and was walking up the ramp. The Fourier Transform rose higher and higher, the ramp closing slowly.

  “Good-bye,” Edward said sadly.

  “Now what?” Saskia asked.

  Now the silver sea was receding. The Earth itself was emerging once more, tired and desolate in mud and winter grass. After two hundred years of recursive building, the planet looked bedraggled and forlorn.

  They walked on, taking in their new surroundings. Constantine confirmed that they were walking in the direction of the Eva Rye. Edward knew it was hundreds of kilometers away, but he walked anyway.

  “This is all too sudden,” Judy complained. “There are fourteen billion people on Earth. They have been cared for and guided constantly all through their lives. Most of them won’t be able to handle this sudden transition.”

  “Maybe you should do something about it, then,” Saskia said, peering out from under her fringe.

  “I’m hungry,” Edward said suddenly.

  “There must be plenty of food around,” said Constantine. “There was more than enough on Earth yesterday. It can’t have just vanished.”

  “It will be in the ships,” Judy said, pointing upwards. Colorful ships now filled the sky like so many balloons. Layers and layers of ships cast circling shadows over the ground.

  “What about all the people still left down here?”

  Edward saw Constantine was pointing to a group of people standing nearby on a terrace of grey stone marooned
in a sea of mud. After some hesitation, Edward led his group through the mud to reach them.

  “Hello,” said a woman of about Saskia’s age. “Have you played the n-strings game?”

  “Oh, yes,” Saskia said, and she shivered. “Why, have you?”

  The woman nodded, pale blue eyes looking out from a pinched white face.

  “About two hours ago. I didn’t understand it. What is going on now? Where is the Watcher? Why isn’t he sorting all of this out?”

  “The Watcher has gone,” Saskia said. “I don’t think he’s coming back.”

  “But my mother is ill!”

  Edward saw a woman curled up on the cold grey stone, her head in the lap of a man he guessed was her husband.

  “We can’t stay here,” the woman said. “There are Dark Seeds about. We closed our eyes and they went on their way this time, but what if more appear?”

  “There won’t be so many seeds now,” said Judy. “The Watcher has gone. You did the right thing, though. Just ignore them.”

  “Ignore them? We’re supposed to just ignore them? I don’t think I can ever do that.”

  “I don’t think you have a choice. There is no Watcher anymore. You’ll have to learn to stand on your own two feet now.”

  Saskia spoke up. “You need to get on your console and trade for help.”

  “ Trade for help?”

  “I know, it takes a bit of getting used to. It’s the new thing.”

  “Judy,” Edward interrupted. “Why don’t these people have a ship of their own?”

  “We did,” the young woman said, “but we sent it away. We thought it was a trick.”

  “What these people need,” Saskia said suddenly, “is advice.”

  “ You’re looking happier,” said Judy. “I think you’ve found your purpose.”

  Edward noticed the smile on Saskia’s face flicker for the merest instant. Then she dropped her fringe forward, becoming purposeful and businesslike. “There must be thousands, millions of people like these on Earth—wondering what’s going on. Who’s going to help them now? Social Care?”