The Galactic Express

by Tobias Wade

  “You should know that I am your father, and I order you to do the wormhole thingy!” Elden said sternly.

  “The only problem is that I got the information from Ang’s head, and he didn’t remember all the measurements I would need. I can derive most of the fundamental formulas, but I hadn’t worked out some of them yet, and he cheated his way through school anyhow. If I’m going to make the wormhole, I’ll need access to the textbooks that humans have discovered so far.”

  “You need access to my head, you mean,” Sali said.

  Draith smiled with all his pointy teeth. The teeth were clearly something he could fix if he’d wanted to, but he must have liked them for some reason, which made Sali like them all the less.

  The familiar alarm which first woke Elden was back in action, siren blaring across the ship which groaned piteously as the metal was stretched.

  Sali pursed her lips and nodded curtly. “Let’s get this over with. In and out, no sightseeing.”

  The toothy smile widened. One of Draith’s hands reached toward her face, and by the time it reached her, his fingers had transformed into input jacks. She shuddered as the cold metal slid into the sockets in her temples. The blue light began to shine through Sali’s skin, an activation of cyber components that only she had been able to perform before. She felt the intrusive spark explode through her mind, running down every neural pathway simultaneously as it mapped the contents. She felt the involuntary urge to scream, and to laugh, and to tap dance, and a million other things beside, all the while recalling every memory she’d ever had simultaneously.

  “Hey! I said only the physics stuff!”

  The presence was gone as swiftly as it appeared, the long metal fingers uncoiling from her head. “ER=EPR, of course!” Draith declared triumphantly. “Hold on, this might be rough. But then again, it might not, as no one has ever tried it before.”

  Draith’s metal fingers snaked their way through the engines which began to morph and shift before their eyes. New electronic equipment grew within crystals on the metal tubing. Wires unplugged all around them, splicing and rearranging themselves into layers of complicated new patterns. Sali didn’t recognize whatever strange new engine he was building. And given her encyclopedic knowledge of the subjects, that likely meant that no human had seen such a device before. If he was only using the information he found inside Sali’s head, then why couldn’t she do that? Why did it all look like magic to her?

  A Hole in Space

  “I hadn’t planned to come here, but then again my plans have been diverging from reality rather sharply of late,” Senator Hallum confessed, crossing his legs and settling into the luxuriously padded chair. “This isn’t going to go like your meetings with Malberry. The fact of the matter is that your daughter is going to die tonight, and you’re the only one with the power to do anything about it.”

  “Didn’t she already? Oh that’s right, she was only sent to prison,” Gamber Halzey replied lazily from behind a cloud of smoke. “I do hope you haven’t come all the way down to Morolox just to tell me you can’t manage your criminals.”

  It wasn’t clear whether she was smoking something, or whether that was simply a privacy measure emitted from her sophisticated room. Everything was subtly moving in the office, from the cleaning droid in the corner, to the coat rack which was watering the potted plant, to the flickering screens across the desk itself. If what the Morolox advertisements said were true, the endless layers of digital screens would automatically rearrange themselves based on how important they were at a given time. Even the thick smoke couldn’t completely conceal that every screen now bleeped the same “Disconnected” error message in bright red letters. If the network was even out here, then it was out everywhere.

  “We don’t have time for the bluffing game. I know you’ve been receiving inside information from Malberry, and he might have even led you to believe that he has everything under control. He also believes that his latest stunt to save the network is going to make him popular enough that he doesn’t mind betraying you. Malberry is going to execute Sali, and she’s the only one who needs you now.”

  “Oh yes, quite chilling.” The smoke stirred as a long thin nose peaked through. “I see why Malberry is terrified of you, although of course he’d never admit it. They think you’re some sort of maverick: unpredictable and dangerous. You aren’t going to scare me with the cheap tricks that you lean on as a crutch. I’ve always had a weakness for flattery though, so perhaps you’d like to try that angle.”

  “You’re too smart to fall for something like that.”

  “And you’re too proud to be so desperate, it’s unbecoming. I will put your mind at ease by telling you the Galactic Express was not destroyed by the black hole. Draith is altering the physics of your world as we speak, creating the first engine capable of traveling through wormholes all the way across space. The technology has already been patented by the Morolox Energy Corporation.”

  “What do you mean, all the way across space? All the way back to Pria?” Hallum asked in alarm.

  “Nearly. They emerged from another black hole in the Outlands where Malberry’s antivirus team lies in wait. He’s going to destroy the ship, and the virus will be taken care of. As you can see, we really don’t need you at all.”

  “Then I was wrong, you’re in even more danger than I thought,” Hallum insisted earnestly. “You just witnessed Draith create the most sophisticated machine ever known to the universe. Do you really think he’s going to be overpowered by your hourly IT team? Draith has never been so close to becoming aware it’s in a simulation. The prison block doesn’t have nearly enough processing power to generate the complexity of a civilized world. Not to mention the unsustainable amount of power it would require to…”

  “Well that’s the first useful thing you’ve said so far,” Gamber interrupted. The clatter of mechanical keys perforated the smoke. “I’ll make sure Morolox Energy adjusts the price to fit the increased demand.”

  “With all due respect, you’re not thinking this through. Even on the large jungle world that we simulated, there were only copies of four types of plants, and only one animal, the Habanon. Adding any more complexity would reduce the graphics quality and make it obvious to the participants that they were not in reality. The Outlands will be strain enough, but imagine trying to simulate the chaos and tumult of a city like Pria. In other words, the Galactic Express only needs to reach the city in order for the graphics quality to degenerate, at which point there will be no method designed by man that can stop the virus from realizing the ruse.”

  A long, slow indentation of smoke. Gamber Halzey must be yawning. “I’ll let Malberry know not to let them near Pria then. Are we happy now?”

  Senator Hallum narrowed his eyes. He swatted his hands violently through the smoke, dispersing it just long enough to catch the glimpse of an inscrutable blank face. Gamber didn’t appear much older than her daughter, although there was a certain plastic shine to her cheeks which wasn’t nearly as flattering. The smoke was billowing directly from her nostrils in a constant stream, immediately concealing her once more.

  “Unless of course… that was exactly what you were trying to achieve. Why did Amore’s antivirus fail to obliterate Draith the first time? Why did you instruct Amore to spare the virus, and attempt to release it through the network?”

  “My lawyers would love to handle any questions you have on the matter. I hope you apprehend whoever was devious enough to execute such a marvelous plan. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice how fast your energy use increased the moment you began to simulate a fully conscious mind? It’s a shame the consciousness didn’t spread when the virus was released to the network, but soon they will all wake up. Soon every computing device on Pria will have a consciousness of its own. And even better, their existences will depend upon a steady supply of power, making Morolox energy a rather potent master, don’t you think? Politics and business really aren’t that different, you know. It’s all about
leverage, and what you can make the other guy do.”

  “That is… frightening to contemplate,” Hallum admitted bluntly.

  “I know. It’s delicious!” Gamber chortled. “I have a hard time believing anything you came prepared to offer me is more valuable than that.”

  By incremental, irrevocable degrees, Hallum was coming to the conclusion that he had made a terrible mistake. He had only anticipated people either wanting to destroy the virus, or jealously hoarding its power for themselves. It simply hadn’t occurred to him that someone would ever be so foolish as to intentionally unleash the alien consciousness across Pria. Even his fantasy that he could keep the virus indefinitely trapped within a simulation was beginning to feel like an impossible dream.

  The seeds for these ill-tempered thoughts had already been planted before he arrived at Morolox. The hover pod which took him through the Prian streets gave him a view of angry and listless people massing on the streets. Had he become so obsessed with his idealistic vision that he discounted how deeply their lives relied upon the network? Was that poor fool Elden right after-all, wishing for progress to stop entirely so that people could focus on what they already have? A thousand disastrous scenarios were competing with each other for horrendousness in Hallum’s mind. His own influence in the future of humanity had diminished to this single moment, this last chance to find the right words.

  “I have nothing to offer you as grand as that: only the life of your daughter. I speak to you plainly, understanding it must be impossible to surround yourself with as much wealth as you have without being forced to fend off clouds of toadies, lavishing praise while waiting for their opportunity to plunder from Morolox. I understand that such power has a tendency to make one cynical toward the world, prejudicing you to believe that any need from you must be motivated by personal greed and jealousy. Watching your daughter make her way through the simulation makes me believe that you still mean the world to her though. It’s not too late for reconciliation. Or maybe you won’t care, and you won’t make that call. And maybe Sali never wakes up, and maybe you’ll spend the rest of your life wondering if you would have been happy in your other life. If only, just once, you’d trusted your daughter when she told you that she loves you.”

  “I think I preferred the threats and flattery. What is it exactly that you want from me, Senator?”

  “Forgive me if I have not been sufficiently clear. The only thing I want is not to lead the last generation of humanity to a funeral with no one is left to weep. I am now more convinced than ever that if Malberry continues to fight the virus, or if it escapes, then we will be engulfed by a being of incomprehensible power. Then what will it matter how much wealth you’ve amassed? Or whether your daughter ever loved you? From the bottom of my heart, I beg you force the Senators on the oversight panel to put me back in charge. I have a list of their names and their prices.”

  “Even if I wanted to make the call, this blasted network…”

  “The hover pod is waiting for you outside,” Senator Hallum replied urgently. “Shall we put the place under new management together?”

  “What kind of a pod?” Gamber asked suspiciously. “How many cup holders does it have?”

  Whatever the advertisements say, the only way to know what it’s like to go through a wormhole is to do it yourself. The term wormhole was a misnomer anyway, because it wasn’t so much eating your way through space as it was allowing space to eat its way through you. The fact remains that the Universe only knows how to behave itself while it’s being observed, and wormholes haven’t had enough practice at not driving people mad to be any good at it. There is an insufficient number of silly words in existence to sufficiently communicate what it’s like for time and space to switch places. Salvador Dali might have been able to capture a fractal of the absurdity of the view, although it’s unlikely he could have survived the amount of alcohol necessary for its creation.

  The journey wasn’t long, exactly, but rather existed for an infinite amount of time at every point along a very long way. It wasn’t as bad as that though, because the crew also existed simultaneously at each point along the journey: all the way from where they entered the wormhole, across the galaxy, and into the Outlands. In other words, it was like having an infinite number of kids asking “are we there yet”, and the answer always being yes, but you have to answer each of them individually before you’re allowed to get out of the car.

  Elden opened his eyes, surprised to discover himself on the other side of what could only be called a religious experience.

  “I just had the strangest dream,” he mumbled. “That I used to live in a little house, and that I could hear the river when I slept. Or no, wait, that was real, and the dream was the bit about traveling on a spaceship somewhere I had no business. Oh bother, that’s not right either.”

  “We aren’t dreaming, doofus” Sali said. “That means we’re through, right? Draith’s new engine really did it?”

  Elden furrowed his brow on a face that felt like rubber. “No… no… I’m quite sure I’m still sleeping now.”

  “Woah,” Draith said, his yellow eyes bulging cartoonishly from his head before retracting into their sockets.

  “I bet none of the villagers ever had an experience quite like that before!” Ramnus declared.

  “Oh, yeah, the feeling. Very cool,” Draith replied. “But I was talking about the archive in Sali’s brain! You would not believe how much time this girl spends on the network.”

  “Hey, quiet you! That’s personal!”

  “This internet sounds like a truly marvelous place. Can you help connect me?” Draith asked, unabashed.

  “A whole other conversation for a whole other time,” Sali said. “We’re still in danger as long as Captain Harris and Amore are at the wheel. We need to get to the Captain’s deck and give them a mutiny for real.”

  “This is a dream. I’m dreaming now,” Elden muttered to himself as he followed the others from the engine room. No one paid any attention to him, and neither did he pay much attention to them, as every bit of himself was focused inward. He had glimpsed the infinite on their passage through the wormhole, and it had been inside him. It felt as though he’d had a conversation with the deepest part of his psyche for the past million years, yet still struggled to recall a single word of what was said. He wasn’t even properly sure what or where he was until a familiar shriek snapped him to attention.

  “Elden, how dare you let those prisoners out of their cell!”

  “I’m sorry, you were right—” he began on instinct before catching myself. “Wait a second, you’re the one who ought to apologize—”

  “Attention, Galactic Express. This is your Captain speaking, here to inform you that this mutiny is being canceled. Just look out the window at that Outlander sky. Anyone who doubted the Crystal Goddess oughtta feel pretty stupid right now.”

  “Oh no, you’re not taking credit… oh never mind,” Sali said, biting off her words. “How about we all play nice, get home, and never see each other again?”

  “Yes, Pria please. I want to connect to the network,” Draith said cheerfully. “We won’t get there by wasting antimatter like this though. I consumed a good deal while upgrading myself and the engine.”

  “Oh hey, kid can talk now, that’s cool,” Harris said, unsettled. “You let me worry about the flying, little fella. Hey you never… oh I don’t know… try to eat anyone’s brain lately… right?”

  Draith walked beside Harris and pointed out the window, oblivious to Harris rapidly changing seats as the boy approached.

  “You’re flying wrong. You’re not taking into account the gravitational orbit of the target asteroid,” Draith said matter-of-factly. “You keep pointing the ship toward your destination, then readjusting as it moves. You should be calculating where Pria will be when you arrive, and aim for that point instead.”

  “Um…” Harris rebutted.

  “He’s right, you should be pointing more to the right,” Sali
confirmed.

  “I was about to do that,” Harris grunted. The heavens realigned as the ship maneuvered properly.

  “What? Who did I make the Captain, you or some kid?” Amore criticized. “Now look, the dials are all going backwards. We’re getting farther than ever from Pria.”

  “Don’t blame him, he was trying his best,” Harris said, shifting the Galactic Express back the other way. “I never should have doubted my instincts, that’s all.”

  “My calculations aren’t wrong. Space is wrong,” Draith said, smushing his face against the glass window. “Pria is moving faster than it’s supposed to. Run the calculations yourself, Sali, I’m only using the material I found inside your head.”

  “So you’re telling me you believe you’re right and the Universe is wrong?” Amore asked skeptically.

  “I’ll do it again for the other planets in the system,” Draith said. “O8, O6, O4, all moving the way they’re supposed to. Only Pria doesn’t want us to get closer.”

  “This isn’t the first time science has failed on this journey,” Harris said sagely. “Now you see why I’ve put my faith behind the Crystal Goddess.”

  “I wish you’d quit calling her that,” Elden mumbled.

  Draith frowned. “The failure of science is not something that is compatible with everything I’ve learned so far. I observe a mismatch between the function of the universe and the macroscopic effect which emerges from it. Hmm… interesting. I’ve improved my understanding of the issue, and now realize that Pria is moving at the correct speed.”

  “Well that’s good…” Harris began.

  “It is the space between us that is expanding.”

  “Oh, sure, expanding space, I’ve heard of that,” Harris said defensively. “Ol’ spacial replication, every Captain worth his salt has encountered it before. But just for clarification, what is it that you think is happening?”