Chaacetime_The Origins_A Hard SF Metaphysical and visionary fiction_The Space Cycle_A Metaphysical & Hard Science Fiction Saga

by A. I. Zlato

  “It is already reality.”

  “Edgard … what am I doing in this investigation? Tell me!”

  The Kandron did not answer.

  Paul buried his head in his hands, and rubbed his temples. The last thing he needed to increase the chaos in his head … was a conversation with Vlad. Paul’s assistant entered his office, as if he had sensed his thoughts.

  “Are you OK, boss? Were you fighting against some paperwork?”

  “Your cynicism is inappropriate, really.”

  “Let’s calm down here. Tell me what is going on!”

  Vlad sat down in front of Paul, and seemed genuinely interested in him. He must have had a truly appalling face to draw his assistant’s sympathy.

  “Vlad, the Machine had asked me to participate in the investigation on childen suicides, and I do not really understand what value I can bring to the query.”

  “Well, I would love to get out of this lab, and get closer to the Machine. Let’s swap!”

  “That is not possible, Vlad. It does not work that way. The Machine had appointed me.”

  “Then I can assist you. I am your assistant, after all!”

  “I don’t know …” Paul said, refusing to deny Vlad what he wanted, although he knew what his aide wanted was not possible.

  “Have you enquired a little about the story? It is crazy case. One must be truly desperate to get to that level … When I found out I could not work closer to the Machine, I was totally discouraged, but not so distraught that I would commit suici … Well, you know … You must question the parents, a serious interrogation process, you know, not façade journalism. The children must have had a common secret, to want to do this collectively at the same time.”

  “I see you have an opinion on the question, don’t you?”

  “Are you making fun of me?”

  “Not at all. I cannot seem to grasp this case at all. Edgard said that their reality and their imaginary were not compatible, but I really do not understand what it means. So, if you … you have a hint, I am interested.”

  “This is the first time you are interested in my opinion … Never mind. These kids have decided to die together, certainly to encourage each other, so that no one changes his or her mind at the last minute. Something like “if my friend does it, so must I.” That is the first thought. Second, they must have common motives. Nothing else could gather them in their despair. For example, if I am depressed because of the position I was assigned to, and you, you are distraught because you did not find an expected answer in a manuscript, there is no chance that we would meet after work, for a drink, to mourn together. You get the idea?”

  “Yes, I think I do.”

  “So we have to find their common motive. When your “pet” tells you that their reality and their imaginary are not compatible, for me that means the children cannot stand their lives. They had to find that, in those circumstances, it was not worth continuing to live.”

  “Suppose we find what is the common motive. How do we prevent this from happening again?”

  “One step at a time, boss! First find the common motive, and then you can think about how to proceed. Have you ever met the Special Agent you will be working with?”

  “Not yet. I guess he or she will contact me at the proper time.”

  “Could you please introduce me to him or her? I would have so many questions to ask, and also …”

  “I am not sure he or she will have time to respond, as the investigation takes priority.”

  “Oh yes, you are right, but … .well, we’ll see.”

  Paul looked at Vlad, happy and, above all, motivated. He had never seen him so excited … an inquiry into child suicides … what better way to motivate someone? Vlad then launched a frantic search of information, and shared generously his conjectures with Paul. His assistant was showing a vivid imagination, and, given the topic, Paul felt somewhat sick. He squirmed in his seat, uncomfortable, unable to stop Vlad.

  Unexpectedly, the terminal in his office announced a new incoming message. Vlad saw the flash and then shut up, making Paul grateful.

  Seeing that he could not send his assistant away, so he can read a message that was primarily intended for him, Paul turned towards the terminal and read the note. He was to immediately go home; the Special Agent would pay him a visit there. The feelings he had had two hours earlier had become reality. This day would definitely be different …

  The unknown is as much an irrepressible attraction as a source of anxiety. This very ambivalence makes it a representation of infinity.

  Lessons from Chaacetime

  Chapter 7

  : Space H. (1st Circle)

  Baley woke up slowly, so as not to wake up Lars, who had come home late the previous night. She readied herself quietly and left the apartment tiptoeing, thinking about the day ahead.

  The gloom of yesterday has vanished, and she walked towards the Machine. She entered the Tower and reached an escalating column. She scanned her hand to request access to the first floor, and received a response a period of five minutes. Such a long period could only mean one thing: there were instructions for a new investigation. She rushed into the alcove.

  The first floor appeared to her today as an oval room, with a stone column in the centre, on which was the membrane, and illuminated with white light. The other parts of the room were in a soft half-light, blurring the outlines. She stepped forward and put her hand softly on the membrane. She focused, and the message pervaded her brain.

  “Beginning of instruction

  Identification of variables: humans

  Loop: While the disruption of the Equilibrium triggered by the deaths of some human youngsters has not ended, act.

  New object: Paul, individual with ID number 100.248.145.255

  Function’s call {Assist} assigned to element Paul

  Report on all beginnings of sub-cycles

  End of function’s call

  End of loop: final report

  End of instruction”

  A new investigation … and not just any! She had to tackle the Problem; she was appointed. While feeling pride, Baley also felt the burden of responsibility. It was her most important assignment to date.

  As the Problem was not new, she asked to see the conclusions of previously completed investigations. The Machine replied that these data were not relevant. In other words, they were useless. She then asked for clarification on the {Assist} function. Like other Special Agents, she had been working alone until now. The Machine confirmed that she would have a teammate named Paul. She did not know how to react to this additional information, nor how to integrate this person into the investigative process.

  When her time was up, she walked towards the column. Turning back, she saw the image of the stone pillar gradually vanish, and she even seems to witness the frames of machine codes disappear in a foggy pattern. She looked away from such a hypnotic representation and entered the column opening up in front of her. At the ground floor, she remained still for a moment, immersed in her thoughts. Having a partner in an investigation was very unsettling, and that prospect made her doubt on how to handle the assignment.

  She pulled herself together. She needed first to identify and contact the so-called Paul. She queried a terminal, and learned he was a man of the Periphery. She double-checked, in disbelief, but there was no mistake. The Periphery! There had to be some sense in all of this, but what? Even more distraught, she sought to get more information about the man. She was even more distressed when she found out he was working at the Ancient Sciences’ research lab, in the Department working on the Earliest Space. What value could such a partner bring to the investigation?

  She burrowed into her memory to find out what she could about the Earliest Space, the Elders, the concept of Space, the survival of humanity … parts of history that had never caught her interest. Then she remembered a boy in her building who was selected to work on those topics. She had kept contact with him over the years. She had heard him t
alk enthusiastically about his job of archaeologist, of history researcher. After a moment, he had begun wandering about the dream of the Elders, which locked the future, and of the Equilibrium that led to death. He had then convinced himself that she was part of a conspiracy, fomented by the Machine. She later lost track of him. Would Paul be like him, some type of anti-Machine radical? She hoped not.

  Now resolute, she left the Tower and hopped on a rail, to meet him. During this short commute, Baley watched the City transform itself. From one Circle to another, buildings were getting smaller and farther one from another, and vegetation appeared and became denser between residences. Gradually, civilisation vanished, ceding control to the onslaught of nature and its chaos.

  She got off at the last stop, at the end of the City, and found herself in the Periphery, for the second time in her life. She again felt uncomfortable. The flow of data into her chip lost performance — becoming a small signal — which triggered a sense of unpleasant emptiness.

  She glanced at these personal residences, which displayed unparalleled ugliness. How could anyone live in such a place? She took a deep breath and stepped onto the street. She could not distinguish one house from another, so she let her chip guide her to the right location. Once at the correct address, she remained frozen for a few seconds. She looked for the access panel to announce her visit, but found none. Raising her fist to knock, despite the ill-mannered aspect of the gesture, she jumped abruptly when a Kandron, invisible earlier, came forward. The animal moved around heavily, shaking the ground with each step. Obviously, it was necessary that Paul had one of these animals … The Kandron stretched its neck and ventured its head through the window. It then pulled away for a few seconds and resumed its initial position, crouched behind the wall. Baley was going to complete her door-knocking gesture, when the door opened onto a man, who had to be Paul.

  Physically, he was quite ordinary. Blond, with gray eyes, of medium height and stature. These trivialities were quickly swept away when he pronounced the word welcome. He had a deep and sweet voice, the kind that could make anyone vibrate inside. It was a disconcerting sensation that had nothing to do with any kind of attraction. His voice echoed in Baley’s chest, as if she were perceiving it in her skin, not just hearing it. Even if his first words unsettled her, she took it upon herself to let nothing appear.

  Paul let her in, and she glanced through the house. It was as ugly inside as it was outside. There were many empty spaces, the reason of which she could not find out. The entrance overlooked the living room, an irregular pentagon, with unnecessary angles and window-covered sides. The furniture somehow felt stuck in the middle of the abnormality.

  Paul’s voice sounded again, making her shiver.

  “I received a message from the Machine asking me to participate in the investigation on child suicides”, he said.

  “A message?”

  She let her astonishment filter, although she knew that indirect communication via terminals was the only possible way for individuals deprived of a chip. She would need to remember this aspect throughout every conversation with Paul.

  “Yes, a message. On my terminal.”

  “Yes … the investigation. I thought you would know, but we do not use the word “suicide.” We must use “Problem.” I will …”

  She then reminded herself that he had no chip. He cannot know who she was … She had to adapt.

  “I am Baley, Special Agent of the First Circle. Since this morning, I am in charge of the Problem, and as the message conveyed to you, we must work together on this project. Even though, and I think you know it, this is a rather unusual approach.”

  Paul kept silent; she continued.

  “Let me summarise this to you. The very first incidents were reported at the beginning of last year. In January, an eleven-year-old boy committed suicide, and the autopsy could not determine the cause of death. The mother was distraught, and no one could find a motive for his act, but this is usual in this kind of cases. He was a little boy without problems; everything was fine in school; and he had many friends … His death nonetheless was not considered suspicious. It was only later, considering the increase of similar incidents, that the Machine had determined that the boy’s death was the first occurrence of the Problem. Three months later, two girls, 12 and 13, respectively, were found dead, again with no explanation for the cause of death.

  The investigation led to the same conclusion as the previous inquiry did; in other words, those two teenagers had no valid reason to commit suicide. However, from an adult’s point of view, there cannot be a valid reason for a youngster to want to end his or her life, especially when he or she has a entire lifetime to look forward to.

  An event that adults deem insignificant can be of colossal importance for children of that age. How could one know? Six months after the first incident, five children were found dead. At that moment, the Machine had pinpointed a recurring pattern, given the abnormalities in its statistics. Indeed, while teenagers sometimes could decide to commit suicide, that penchant for self-euthanisation was not common among young children. Eight deaths in a few months represented too high a forecast variance, so the Machine decided to launch an examination.

  It had determined that the incidents had to be linked, and that the absence of death cause had to be further analysed. Nobody knows as of now the connection between all incidents. The latest cases involved a dozen children each time. At the beginning, the gap between each Problem was a few months, but the pace has now gone up and the last two incidents occurred four weeks apart from each other … Another strange phenomenon: the children’s bodies were found laying in circles, starting with the twelfth incident … since their number has become enough, one might say.”

  “Thank you for this factual summary. All these children … these broken lives, theirs but also their parents’, their families’. How do you manage to speak about this top so dispassionately? You talk almost like the Machine.”

  “Because it’s my job. Because emotions decrease judgment skills. Data must be analysed and organised in order to reach the solution.”

  Silence settled in. Baley explored how to best integrate Paul into the enquiry, and could not find a comforting option. He then started talking, echoing her own thoughts.

  “I don’t understand what I’m doing in this investigation.”

  “Frankly, neither do I, but the Machine has Its reasons. You will necessarily be of help at some point. Helpful in what? The future will tell.”

  “We’ll see, as you say. And now, how do we organise ourselves? Do I have to follow you; do I have to work in my lab office on information you send me? Or …”

  “The investigative work is fieldwork! You come with me, wherever the assignment takes us. You’ll have to adapt.”

  “You too, Special Agent. I see that you don’t like this idea of collaboration, and neither do I. You certainly despite me because I have no chip, as I pity you for being controlled by the Machine. Each of us must make an effort to make this partnership work.”

  Baley could not prove him wrong. She registered in a corner of her memory that he considered the Machine a slave master. The very idea of that comparison gave her a headache. It was an … unfair … idea. Why had It assigned her to a team mate who did not see Its true worth?

  “Indeed, I don’t like the idea of a partnership. Your handicap, I mean the lack of chip; then, your job … I don’t really see how all this could be of help. Nevertheless, the Machine had selected you for this job, so you and me, we must adapt.”

  The glanced at each other, both convinced that his or her teammate was incompetent.

  “Where do we start?” Paul finally said.

  Baley nodded. The question was relevant; she had to explain the latest events and the way forward.

  “The latest incident occurred yesterday. The children’s bodies have not been moved yet, so I can start my investigation. We’ll go there. We must change rails twice; we can be there in one hour.”


  She projected, via her chip, a map of the City and showed Paul where they had to go.

  “With Edgard, we could be there in twenty minutes.”

  “Who is Edgard?”

  “The Kandron.”

  “Ok. So?”

  “Well, it gives me a ride every day, and I am sure he will agree to take you, too … although he usually does not transport other people. It will understand your … our emergency.”

  “Do you want me to … ?”

  “That’s the idea. I’m offering you a transportation mode that is faster than what your technology can provide. It’s up to you.”

  Baley did not say anything to the contrary. Thinking about an air ride with this tall animal nearly made her faint. She accepted nevertheless the proposal, as she could not decline such a big time saving. She followed Paul as he went outside, and moved reluctantly towards the Kandron. The animal stretched to its full length. It seemed even bigger than those Kandrons she would occasionally see at the Tower. Its head could touch treetops. Its slant, distracted eyes were impenetrable. Its front legs, tinier when compared to its other limbs, were endowed with gigantic claws that could slice her into two parts in a single movement. The Kandron stared at Paul, and they seemed to briefly communicate via thoughts.

  She felt panic invade her. She had to pull herself together and rationalise. Act on what was changeable; accept the rest. Her role was to investigate. Time spent commuting was time lost forever. Everything that could shorten her commute was welcome. Ride on this animal’s back was welcome. It was only another transportation means. Simple as that. The Kandron was not a living being; it is just a transportation means. That allowed her to save time. Climb on the Kandron’s back was welcome.

  With Paul’s help, she climbed on … the transportation means. She dared not look down lest she be dizzy. She did not know how to affix herself, how to avoid slipping. She had thought until then that Kandrons had skin hair. That was not the case. A fluffy coat covered the animal, partly hair, partly scales. It was then impossible to affix herself. Baley glanced at Paul, and saw that he had some kind of strap to hold onto. She sought an identical strap in front of her, sliding her fingers through the fur. She had just found one when the Kandron spread its wings and started flying. She kept herself from screaming, clenching her whole body.