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

by A. I. Zlato

  The Spirit of the Multitude was calling ... they were calling 5th Hexa. It locked the part of its mind dedicated to the Heptagon, and flew into its favorite park. It could not represent the Hexagon in the mountains, surrounded by the Heptagon ... it had to go. A few minutes later, 5th Hexa landed on the sunlit lawn in the park. The rock it had scratched was always there, reduced. Pieces of granite lying on the ground had been picked up, probably after its departure. The rock had even been recut to give it a harmonious shape. Nothing indicated what had happened, except the memory ... Edgard’s, and that of the humans who had walked throughout this park. It sat at the foot of a tree called jambosier. It sat down, wrapping its tail around, loosening its muscles in a comfortable position. It held out its mind, that of the Hexagon, to the consciences of the others, and logged in.

  The Space had just had a meeting with the others, so had the Spirit felt. When the linearity of time was reversed, and that space was an dimension complementary of time ... so were the Kandrons .... It had told Paul ... Yes, so they were, for now.

  It felt the presence of 3rd Hepta in the meeting, the representative of the Heptagon. It easily imagined 3rd Hepta, with its relaxed body, wings touching the snow, away from its body, and unaware of the cold. The others were certainly closer to it, warming it up while it was out of its body. In the mountains, under the snow, legs planted in the cracking ice, and ... Edgard caught itself just in time. It could not, should not be with them at this time. It felt 3rd Hepta rejecting it gently, invisibly to the Spirit of the Multitude. He was 5th Hexa ... and nothing else. It cleared up its mind, and focused.

  “5th Hexa. You must take responsibility for your actions. Why have you revealed to your human binomial the existence of structures?”

  « Because he asked the question, and the answer has no impact.”

  “That’s what you think!”

  “That is my opinion.”

  “What about our reverse linearity? This is our greatest weakness!”

  “He should know.”

  “Your faith in this human is becoming a threat. You are veering more and more outside the community, 5th Hexa. The Hexagon and the Spirit feel it. Decision time is getting closer ...”

  In its head, it heard Faress and Atemys trying to talk to it at the same time. It pushed them out, as it already knew what to expect from them.

  “I know and I'll be ready”, it said in a brash tone.

  “We, too. And on that day, we will get rid of you”, replied the First and Last Element of the Circle.

  Amazement pervaded the assembly, but 5th Hexa perceived nods.

  “When you understand that your solution is not a good one, it will be too late”, continued Edgard. “The space will not save you from reverse linearity. Kandrons will not return, and the Hexagon will always need me. Moreover, what will happen to humans who are on the shuttle with you? Will you bring them along into nothingness?”

  “The Spirit believes in my solution.”

  “The same Spirit who lost recollection of how it had emerged from the void? The same from which I could hide some of my actions?”

  “Everything always comes out, eventually. Are you doubting the Spirit?”

  “I'm part of it as it is part of me. I just wanted to emphasise that it is not omniscient. As I said before, the Spirit is making a mistake on this topic.”

  “As you so rightly pointed out, we are still here thanks to the Spirit. That is why you are still here.”

  “And it had paid the price. As we all had. We must accept our demise.”

  A strange atmosphere percolated for a few seconds, leaving open the last exchanges, in echo. If some were convinced by the Circle, others were undecided. 5th Hexa felt the presence of both the Hexagon and the Heptagon. It was part of both, while being involved in neither ... It was quartered. Decision time would soon come ... it knew that.

  4th Tetra decided to change the subject by speaking.

  “The digital entity at work grows”, continued 4th Tetra.

  “Servants know”, said 3rd Hepta.

  “Don’t be so sure. We missed it the first time. Why would they not?”

  “I know them better than you do.”

  “And I know the Machine better ... we are well advanced. I am saying that nothing is certain.”

  “We spend our time saying that. Nothing is sure, and yet we are doing nothing!”

  “That is not true; we have several solutions ...”

  “That's it. Several solutions because nothing is certain. So we disperse our forces.”

  “I agree. Let’s choose space!” Interjected the Circle.

  “Your turn to speak will come; I still have things to say about the digital entity.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “It is very powerful, and that is its greatest weakness.”

  “Servants know.”

  “Are they sheltered, nonetheless?”

  “No, of course, but we can do nothing.”

  None of them dared phrase the question they all nevertheless had in mind. 5th Hexa saw, superimposed to the meeting, Paul’s dream. The powerful Machine, which actually was no longer itself, the City in flames ... the Kandrons remained stuck in the same mistakes.

  “Let us focus resolutely on space!” The Circle said. “You saw, as I did, Planet Hope. It is magnificent! Humans will take us there ...”

  5th Hexa did not listen. It did not attempt thereafter to share Paul’s progress. They would not believe it anyway.

  The meeting ended, and it was about to fly away when 1st Hexa landed under its nose.

  “What is the Hexagon, in your view?” It asked.

  5th Hexa stared at it for a long time, without understanding.

  “What do we represent, Beryl, Danael, Faress and I, for you?”

  5th Hexa remained silent.

  “You have to respect us, don’t forget that. You cannot talk about us, our structure, to your human without warning, without notifying us. This will have no impact, perhaps, as you think, but even then you should have told us. 5th Hexa, I don’t know what is going on with you, or rather I foresee something. And I don’t like what I see.”

  “The Hexagon does not believe in my solution.”

  “Your resentment does not justify your attitude. We already forgave you once. Our patience is not infinite.”

  “I know.”

  It took off, leaving Atemys behind. After barely breaking the mental link with 1st Hexa, Faress came to him. Instead of talking to it about important subjects, which might ire Edgard, Faress spoke about everything and nothing. It told Edgard about Angela’s day, gave a speech on the changing weather, and ended by describing, based on their menu, the distinction he made among all street vendors of French fries. Edgard happily listened to its twin brother, enjoying the lightness of tone. It followed suit and argued with Faress, disagreeing on the classification of the best fries in the City. To get things right, they naturally decided to test them all.

  Like children, they flew from shop to shop, pilfering greasy horns, in front of vendors, under the stunned gaze of customers. They finally sat down with the loot at the riverbank, to enjoy the product of their larceny. Faress started.

  “So, my brother, what is going on with you?”

  “I cannot tell you anything.”

  “Again! You really want to go it alone? The Circle is already taken ...”

  “It's not that. You know ... gravity, time, space ... the relationships ...”

  “You keep dreaming. Yet 1st Hexa had warned you not to get carried away by events.”

  “I don’t have that recollection.”

  “Because you have deliberately forgotten.”

  “I had my reasons.”

  “No doubt. You probably did not want to get out of your dream.”

  “It is not the product of my imagination, all this ...”

  “I know that you believe in some things. I worry about you, that's all. It's not in your nature to be alone.”

  “I a
m not.”

  It immediately realised he had made a mistake.

  “Really, 5th Hexa? And whom are you with?”

  “With you, of course; it's just that …”

  “You're not with us, actually, and you know it very well. Let me leave you. If you need me, you know where to find me.”

  Faress left, and Edgard felt how much its friend was pained. It unfortunately could not speak to the latter about Servants, the old vessel, the Heptagon ... again it felt this break inside, the gulf between the two sides of its life. This could not continue for long.

  Alone, it sadly did a recap of its plan. Paul had understood but perhaps too late, the Gateway had understood but was not doing anything, Servants ... they were not part of its original plan. And now? It did not know. Moreover, the digital entity was expanding, and Space E ... Was this world doomed as all its fellow Kandrons seemed to think?

  Not all; we are here, said the Heptagon

  According to the wave model, light is a wave.

  According to the corpuscular theory, it actually consists of photons.

  What if it were nothing but Time?

  Lessons from Chaacetime

  Chapter 51

  Space H. (1st Circle)

  The night was eerily quiet; no dream came to disturb her sleep. Her conscience remained smooth and clear, like water at rest. Baley awoke with peace of mind, ready to face the day. She prepared quickly, and headed to the Tower. The surveillance program on children identified as likely to belong to the anti-Machine movement was in place; she therefore had, in principle, nothing to say on the first floor. However, while walking on the esplanade, in the bath of hostility that pervaded the crowd, she thought that her plan could be improved.

  She had to expand the surveillance program, assigning a Special Agent to each child. She did not want to risk arriving too late in case of suspicious gathering. She had no room for error. The City was on the verge of collapse, and she would be a perfect scapegoat. Although she knew that she was not important, that only the community mattered, she could not help shiver of apprehension. Thus, she went to the Tower in order to change her instructions in this regard. Arrived in the hall, she wondered about the reaction that the Machine was going to have, because the number of Special Agents to mobilise in order to implement her demand was huge. Yet, she could not afford not to ask, and she threw herself into a column. While exiting the column, she saw an oval piece from which originated a multitude of corridors, sinking into the darkness. As if she had arrived at a crossroads, facing several possible futures. The membrane, built on a crystal plaque, shone, waiting for her touch. As soon as she put her hand on its surface, Baley forwarded her request. She dreaded the answer, knowing, deep within herself, that her request was justified. The Problem required an exceptional response, tenfold attention.

  The answer took a while to appear, and Baley doubted herself. Had she overstepped her position by asking the requisition of hundreds of Special Agents?

  No, it was something else. The Machine was no longer the same, although she could not tell how. Data circulated differently, which certainly caused the defer. What happened? She did not have time to pursue. The membrane vibrated under her fingers, transmitting a data stream to her chip. Simultaneously, her parasitic thoughts were cleared.

  Taking note of the reply, she was both relieved and crushed with the burden she now shouldered after requesting so many personnel. With such a workforce, she had better not fail. Thus, each child suspected of belonging to an anti-Machine movement would have a guardian angel who would follow him or her remotely and discreetly.

  When she removed her hand from the membrane, Baley saw the appearance of the first floor change. Before her, corridors disappeared one after the other, except for one. There remained only the small oval room, brightly lit, with the plate carrying the membrane. From the centre started a thin corridor, which was getting darker and darker. She had made a decisive choice, and the representation she saw before her attested to its significance. Slightly uncomfortable, she opened the column and went down.

  At this hour, the hall was almost empty. All personnel of the First Circle had received their instructions for the day, and only remained people like her, the unemployed. What else could she do? She had identified the children, set alerts, and had strengthened the surveillance program. At this point, she could only wait and see. From the desert hall, she went down to Level –1. As she had done when she was launching the Chrijulam Operation, she chose a chair.

  So the wait began. To avoid boredom, she accessed all her notes, from the beginning of the investigation. She remembered the day the Machine had assigned her to the case, the pride she had felt, but also the feeling of strangeness she had when she realised she had to work with a partner. She read, amused, her notes on the first visit she had paid Paul. It seemed so far to her!

  The Chrijulam lead quickly appeared over the interrogation. She was so convinced to have found the right lead ... but she was wrong. Despite the sidelining of at-risk children, a new case had appeared. Thus, she resumed her investigation from zero, and brought out a new hypothesis. Everything now depended on the veracity of this theory as well as her ability to have detected the children involved ... And she was alone. Paul, the researcher, had returned to his manuscripts, stuck in moral philosophising. What kind of paper was he reading now? Baley imagined him without difficulty, leaning on a barely legible manuscript, writing notes and speaking enthusiastically to Edgard. Things were better that way for everyone.

  Alone, with her notes, which she had already read three times, she peeked at moves of the interactive map every five seconds, waiting for something to happen. She decided to turn on the news channel, and listened, with half an ear, to reports on life in the City, those little things that journalists so relished. Strangely, the Problem no longer made the headlines.

  The Machine had to act on newscasts, so they did not feed anxiety and psychosis to residents. As always, It monitored everything and anything. Reports were scrolling on the screen, highlighting quotidian activities. There was talk of a revolt in the Sixth Circle, triggered by the death of three workers at a site. The Machine was, of course, held responsible, as if It could force people to hang their harness to the lifeline in order to prevent accidents. The reporter showed incredible images of vandalised streets, a burned rail station. Human beings could not help but destroy things. There followed a documentary on new wheat varieties developed by biologists, as well as an indictment against the lack of vegetation on school premises. Ordinary life seemed to flow.

  Her chip catapulted her out the reverie, and she leapt abruptly. First alert. Second alert! Children gathered in a corresponding place and positioned themselves in a circular pattern. How the hell could they come together so quickly, and trigger two alert levels in so little time?

  Although it was useless, Baley sent a warning message to all Special Agents. Those who were assigned to monitor the children involved were necessarily already there; others had access to the same information she had received, along with the alerts. Despite this, she contacted them to drum up because she needed to do something, because she had to be in action. Immediately. Her heart was pounding. Breathless, she rushed out of the Tower, to the nearest rail station.

  She shoved the person before her, without even bothering to apologise. She had to go, without losing a second; it had to happen as soon as possible. Although the trip lasted only a few minutes, it seemed an eternity, during which her brain became overheated. What had happened? Why were the two alert levels of alerts triggered almost simultaneously? She had defined them precisely to give her team enough time to get to a designated site ... Why? How? What did she miss? Was she going to be late, too late? No, it was not possible. This could not be. It should not. She had to .... She jumped off the rail and rushed to the point she had memorised, and found all Special Agents there.

  Most of them stood upright, motionless, in a standby mode. Some turned their heads back while seeing her, b
ut did not move. Baley found their behaviour strange, and pushed them aside, to see where the children were. She moved as quickly as possible between these men and women frozen like statues. There were no children. Nowhere. She inquired of the interactive map ... the points were missing. How was that possible?

  Baley shouted the Special Agents.

  “Where are the children you need to monitor? They were here a minute ago!”

  Silence greeted her questioning, adding to his fury.

  “How could you, all of you, let kids play with you that way? AND WHERE ARE THEY NOW ??”

  She turned on herself, hoping to see, see something, see, feel ... but nothing. As if she had dreamed the triggering of both alerts, as if the point indicated by the map were an illusion; there was absolutely nothing.

  The men and women around her looked bedazzled; no one understood what had happened. Long minutes passed, during which Baley shouted against them, against the map, against children, against herself ... before collapsing from nervous exhaustion on the floor. She trembled. She was drowning in the absurd; she did not understand. Two Special Agents, whom she barely recognised, helped bring her back up.

  Now what?

  She had to investigate what had happened. As she was about to hear the accounts of each Special Agent, a strong wind formed. Suddenly, at the precise location indicated by the map, a mini cyclone formed. She stood before the same strange phenomenon she had seen with Paul ... High winds, coming from nowhere, stirred up a cloud of dust. She covered her face and eyes with her arm. A mist erupted from the ground, and spun in an upward spiral, taking with it pieces torn from the ground. Like last time, this phenomenon arose in calm weather, for no apparent reason. The others observed, stunned, this unlikely storm. They tried, too, to protect themselves somehow from small stones flying at breakneck speed.

  When the wind calmed down, she opened her eyes and screamed .... The children were there. In a circle. Dead. They had come all the way to this place, disappeared for a moment, and reappeared dead! All this made absolutely no sense. The situation became even more complex when each Special Agent assured her of arriving on the scene an hour earlier, while she had received that warning only fifteen minutes before. She began to walk, describing curls, eyes on the ground. Nothing had gone as planned. Nothing. An unprecedented mobilisation of resources for a catastrophic outcome.