by A. I. Zlato
He had been thrown, by order of the Machine, into an investigation, of which he knew little. Not only did he know little about suicide, expect what reports said in the news, but mostly he had absolutely never heard of the Special Agent’s profession. Collaboration with Baley had started on a negative note; she considered him useless, and he could not agree more. He found in her a slave to the Machine. The investigation had nonetheless gotten more active, a turn that allowed Paul to find his place. She turned to him for information, and was now relying on him.
While she was on the ground validating their hypothesis and trying to better understand the cult’s followers, he had to study documents that had not been reviewed so far, particularly those about the fight against sects. Even if they did not always appreciate one another, at least now they were working together.
This brought him back to his conundrum. How could he study manuscripts in record time? He could not ask Baley to read further, because the remaining documents were old and difficult to access. The language had evolved over centuries, and, unlike him, she had not spent her lifetime reading sentences the meaning of which had become cryptic over time. One possibility was that he had to involve other fellow researchers in the study, that is, other people with expertise in this antiquated language. Yes, that was it; he needed more resources. While walking towards the terminal, he fully became aware of the effect that Baley and the investigation were having on his mindset. His questioning, his mistaking, all seemed gone. His brain had shrunk and was operating in a straight line. Efficient, certainly; but also linear, as if one part of his personality had retracted. He felt Edgard willing to engage in his mental peregrinations, but did not allow it to do so. At the edge of his consciousness, he just heard the Kandron’s catchphrase, now a regular occurrence, followed by a compelling sense of urgency. Regardless of the litany, Paul focused on the concept of imminent threat in Edgard’s mind, echoing his own. He had to do something, quickly. And find help.
Paul asked his terminal to put him in contact with the director of the research laboratory, with maximum priority. Notwithstanding the late hour, he did not hesitate a second before sending this message, because he knew Jade Burton devoted all her time to her work, and she would understand the relevance of the request. He waited impatiently for an answer, leaving his hand on the wall of the black column, in order to read the reply as soon as received. Minutes went by slowly, during which Edgard tried a new immersion in his mind.
“Edgard, I am busy.”
“I rather think you are not doing anything.”
“I am waiting for an important response.”
“And what do you do while waiting?”
“I am thinking!”
“Your brain does not seem very busy.”
“Edgard, I … What do you want?”
“You know.”
“Yes, so needless that I repeat myself.”
“I will stop when you start acting differently.”
“But I have been doing many radically different things lately!”
“It is not enough. The Gateways know.”
“Yes, the Kandrons know my destiny. The Gateways know … that is great! I have an investigation to solve.”
“You are perceiving things without seeing them. Maybe your lead will take you where it is necessary to be. You must hurry.”
“That is what I am doing.”
Paul stopped the discussion, knowing pretty well that it ended with a misunderstanding, as he and Edgard were not talking about the same thing. Half an hour later, he received a connection request from Jade, from her office, where she still was.
He had spoken to her on his first day at work, because she wanted to welcome all new researchers. This energetic fifty-year-old woman had impressed him. Everything in her reflected natural leadership, and, in front of her, Paul had lost composure for a few seconds. She had welcomed him with the energy that characterised her, with a vigorous handshake, and said a few words to motivate him in his job. Since then, he had had the opportunity to see her in action, when they fought together to make sure each construction site was subject to archaeological excavation before work began. He thus had been able to appreciate her tenacity and pervasiveness. For Jade, failure was not an option, and she approached the problem as she had done for previous ones, that is, an obstacle she and her team would necessarily overcome. Her strong conviction had pervaded her speeches, behaviour and communication skills. Thanks to her, most of the manuscripts had been discovered since the mandatory excavations began. Ever since, he had not dealt directly with her, but he had sometimes seen her in the lobby when leaving the building at the same time as he did. He could hear the characteristic clicking of her heels on the floor, her stare focused on the horizon, as if the world belonged to her.
“Paul, how can I help you at this late hour?”
“I know it is late, Madam, but I assure you this is an emergency. As you know, the Machine had appointed me to work on the investigation of the Problem. There is maybe a connection to a cult. Therefore, I have to study all manuscripts relating to that cult, as well as any book covering ways to fight it.”
“So what do you need?”
“A few researchers to help me, so together we can compile these documents faster. I had thought of Sandra and Alexander, because …”
“They are yours. I will notify them of their new assignment. They will come to your office, first thing tomorrow morning. I will talk to them about the confidential nature of this work.”
“Thank you, Madam. I …”
The conversation was over. Jade was a very efficient individual who never wasted time on unnecessary sentences, and Paul could not utters the words of gratitude that were in his mouth.
“Are you happy with the conversation?” Edgard asked.
“Yes, Sandra and Alexander will help me. We will be able to move faster together”.
“Aren’t you going to focus on the beginning?” Edgard asked.
“That is the only thing I’m doing, Edgard. I work on the likely causes of child suicides, and I want to find a way to prevent a reoccurrence.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Well, that’s what I do mean.”
Edgard withdrew from his brain, in a gloomy mood, and fell on the ground, shaking the walls of the house. Paul felt unhappy to see his friend in this mood, but he had no choice. Discussions with the Kandron were for another day.
The next day, Paul arrived in his office at the same time that Sandra and Alexandra came to work — at dawn. Jade had authorised them to use the meeting room, as long as they needed to, so they went there to start pondering things. The room was small but operational, consisting of a circular table, equipped with a digital column down in the centre. A simple verbal request was necessary to bring out the required number of terminals. Paul immediately requested three terminals, which materialised before them. Sandra and Alexandre sat next to him, each before a terminal, armed with a notepad. Like most researchers at the lab, they loved writing on paper, instead of encoding everything digitally.
Paul went straight into the main topic. It was useless to give them a summary of the situation, or to indicate this was an emergency. Jade had taken care of that aspect. Looking at both of them, he knew immediately that they had the same determination as he did. They were poised to review the manuscripts with the eagerness of people who knew that lives were at stake. They began by discussing the list of documents to study. For books on Chrijulam, Paul had already established the list with Baley; for those related to the fight against sect, all three spent at least an hour researching the database to make their selection. After agreeing on the final list, they allocated documents to one another, and loaded the list on the respective terminal. Their individual tensions percolated into the atmosphere, with the Problem’s spectre hovering above them.
They threw themselves frenetically into reading. Alex was in charge of the remaining manuscripts referencing Chrijulam, while Paul and Sandra review
ed documents covering sects in general. What Paul had read the day before, on absurd and dangerous beliefs, was enough for him, and he did not want to peruse other similar documents. However, he had a silent rage compelling him to find a way to counter these thoughts, to save the children from this scourge of horror.
He had on his screen, How Sects Operate, Mental Manipulations and Cult Practices, Religions and Fundamentalism, False Prophets, and Fight Against Sectarianism. All these documents were penned during the same cycle, demonstrating that this problem had been a major concern at some point in time. Subsequently, the problem had either been eradicated or had fallen into oblivion. Paul hoped with all his heart that it was the former hypothesis, and that information in these books would be useful in the present campaign against cults.
He chose to start with the last document, Fight Against Sectarianism, hoping to find a method in order to reason with the followers. His reading led him to consult other works in parallel, as he began understanding how a sectarian group operated. On his notepad, he drew some type of diagram, connecting books among them. He noted in rectangles the book’s title, author and date of publication; on the lines connecting the rectangles, he indicated the logical path that had brought a document to another. The result looked like a huge pyramid structure, the head of which was the book Fight Against Sectarianism. Paul felt dizzy, thinking about the implications of what he was reading. It was not only a question of belief; the sect, as a system, closed in on the believer and created mental barriers preventing him or her from even thinking about getting out.
However … what was the difference between this mode of operation and the one in which lived Baley, who could not think of living without a chip, who shuddered at the idea of receiving less clear instructions from the Machine? Who decided what qualified as a sect, and what did not? How could one know if he or she did not belong to a cult? Was Edgard his personal cult, which controlled so much of his thinking, and without which he could not live? Was the decision to categorise a belief system as a cult a sectarian choice in itself? Causes and consequences … Truth was nothing but a form of illusion. Reality is the imaginary of the majority … was this imaginary a sectarian inclination? What were the limits of such inclination? The impasses? The majority … the mental pattern induced … at the beginning … to differ the beginning … the schema … the imaginary of the majority…
He wanted to chase away those ideas, which steered him away from the main goal, which was preventing new suicides. All this could wait … and he felt Edgard’s presence in his mind scowl at that thought. Yet he had to. He continued his reading and immersed himself into the world of mental manipulation, the techniques that someone could use to completely lock a person out, to control him or her, and to make him or her accept anything.
Someone knocked on meeting room’s door. Paul jumped from his chair, ready to kill the intruder, when he found out it was the director’s personal assistant, who brought … dinner. Paul expressed thanks vaguely, and put the tray on the table, while staring at the clock. Indeed, it had been fourteen hours since all three started staring at their respective screens. A break was welcome. Sandra pushed aside her terminal, which reintegrated the column, making room for the meal tray.
Alexander and Paul got up to walk a bit, to stretch their muscles, sore from hours of static posture. They all were grateful for the director’s kind attention. Jade had anticipated that they would be so absorbed in their work that they would forget to eat, like most researchers in the building. While eating, they summarised their findings so far.
Alex had done a synthesis of Chrijulam, which overlapped in part with what Paul had read the day before. The sect came from a religion imported by the Elders of the Earliest Space. He could not determine whether the reduction in the number of followers had led to the radicalisation, or whether the radicalisation of their beliefs had scared away most believers. For Alex, some ideas, such as encouraging procreation, were commonly accepted among the Elders. However, at the beginning of Spaces, they had learned past lessons and banned such thoughts, in order to achieve the Equilibrium.
Only a few small groups had clung to their beliefs, but over time, most had disappeared. Chrijulam was part of those that survived, maintaining a stronghold on its members. The grip was even stronger, because their value systems were in total contradiction to the notion of Space, as it had been conceived. After hearing the summary, Paul nodded, sombre.
Alexandre’s findings corroborated his own. How could such archaic beliefs have survived? How could followers close their eyes on things, and deny the very foundations of the City? That was beyond comprehension. Again, at the edge of his consciousness, Paul wondered if he also was not part of a sect … How were his own thoughts interpreted by others … the majority …
It was Sandra’s turn to speak. She had read a collection of testimonials, recounting how painful it could be to leave a sect. These were the stories of people who had been caught up in the cult world at some point in their lives, as well as narratives by people whose relatives had joined such a group.
All these testimonials were consistent on one point, outside intervention. In each case, a relative had played that role, pulling the person out of the sectarian community.
For Sandra, her readings showed that only outside intervention could enable an exit from the cult. The believer, incapable of rational thinking, could no longer analyse things objectively. His or her mind was completely locked. However, she draw the attention of Paul and Alexander to the fact that these stories only focused on one individual at a time. She had not, unfortunately, found a case of collective awareness about the problem, at a family or group level. She wondered aloud, pondering whether what she had read could be transposable onto Chrijulam members. Was it possible to extract dozens of children on a single try? What should one do about the others, those who had reached adulthood? Should they be left alone, under the pretext that they had passed the at-risk age? Sandra was slightly depressed. Like Alexander, she was discovering now a closed world, a horrible one, which children had wanted to leave by committing suicides. Paul, who had felt the shock before them and had recovered a little, cheered both colleagues up. This was just the beginning of a long research process; they had to persevere.
They had to remember that failure was not an option. They had to succeed; Sandra and Alexander agreed thereto, and prepared to get back to work. Before they did, Paul gave them a recap of his readings. He briefly explained techniques of mind control, which instilled in the believer a completely different sense of the natural world. He decided not to get into details, for now, as he wanted everyone to get back to work as soon as possible. Sandra dropped the food tray near the door, and logged into her terminal. Alexander logged into his, and both focused on their screens, taking notes occasionally.
Pondering the rest of the investigation, Paul reflected on what they had just said. All this information was valuable, but they had not yet found a way to save all at-risk children. All they had was the Chrijulam thought process as well as methods used and testimonials of former believers. There was colossal work ahead.
He went home at night, anxious, pondering the information he accumulated during the day. He felt that Edgard wanted to chat, but did not have the strength or desire, too concerned he was about the immediate future. He listened anxiously to the news of the day, hoping no to hear new cases of suicide. There was, fortunately, nothing new. That was for today, but what about tomorrow?
His world epitomised basically a race against time; he was in permanent motion and no longer had a chance to discuss with Edgard. The Kandron was OK with this for now… and would instil thoughts to him in his sleep — Paul was sure of that. All his sleep nights were restless, replete with nightmares and inconsistent thoughts. Questioning the relevance of the Machine … of the Equilibrium … why now … why children … Chrijulam was a minor group … what if the scope of the malaise were wider?...
Paul went to bed, and felt asleep. Immediately, h
is nightmare erupted. The City in flames … The Machine becoming super-powerful … children … in circle … Deep in his dream, Paul became convinced that the concept of circle was critical … but why? Where was he getting this certainty from? He also saw the first page of Thomas’s diary, written in letters of fire and blood … Any road followed precisely to its end … impasse or death … what difference?
Humans are illogical and irrational, while science is logical and rational. Is that really the case? Humans are the one producing science, after all.
The Spirit of the Multitude
Chapter 30
: Space H. (1st Circle)
Baley woke up with a mind numbed by an exhausting night of fruitless reflections. She could not forget the malaise about the architecture she had seen in the Pioneering Area, the architecture of the Machine and the modifications that Lars had seen, the layout of the investigation, a possible link between the Problem and the first two points … All this was not rational, and did not fit her personality. Ideas surged without her having any control, invading her conscience and overtaking her entire mental arena.
She felt annoyed and would have wanted to forget all of this, in order to peacefully go back to her investigation, but she could not.
Internal modifications in the Machine/modifications in the City, event triggering the Problem … There was necessarily a connection … Ideas came back and forth, endlessly, like a downward spiral … the event triggering the suicides … why now … structural modifications in the Machine … Enough! Baley wanted to regain control, to get her logical and rational mind back.
