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

by A. I. Zlato

  Everything was okay on that front. Instead of feeling the freedom she would regain through the hike, she was even more depressed to see how nonessential she had become. The Machine had not even given her a date of mandatory return ... She was no longer relevant, in that City.

  With a heavy heart, shoulders sheared by the weight of the bag, she walked quickly, head down, all the way to the rail station. The Square was nearly empty, because the Machine had absorbed a large part of Its workforce. Away from the non-place that the Tower was from that distance, she hopped on the rail, without thinking. She hit with full force a rigid surface and was thrown back. Shaken, she realised she had collided with the protection barrier. The latter aimed to ensure the integrity of the rail, preventing unauthorised individuals to cross the perimeter.

  As if her chip were only grafted yesterday, Baley had forgotten to identify herself and announce her destination, a combination of things that had triggered the electromagnetic barrier. How could she lose her mind so blatantly? She had become astoundingly stupid. No wonder the Machine had rejected her! Hurt in her pride more than in her flesh, she stood up angrily, without addressing the curious glances around her. She identified herself and inputted her destination, and the protective barrier opened up. Contrary to her habit, she chose a seat and sat down for the ride.

  The rail dropped her off in the northern section of the Periphery. This place was similar to the rest. Large aisles separated squares of greenery in which lay individual dwellings. Civilisation seemed so remote here, so much so that the Periphery was not called Circle. After the Ninth Circle, there was no tenth. No, there was just the Periphery.

  Baley quickly walked across the large empty aisles, to step away from these "houses," which always made her too uncomfortable. To get to the park’s centre, she had to use an archaic means of transportation, the treadmill. The departure platform was at the entrance, a few hundred metres from the rail. On the edge of the platform lay a sphere, two feet in diameter, an extension of the Machine. The sphere relayed its impulses, allowing chips to remain active in the park, although the latter was outside the City.

  Approaching the platform, she felt the orange-yellow ball take over her chip. The data stream, lessened in the Periphery, recovered all its power. The Machine was everywhere.

  She climbed onto the acceleration ramp and then settled on the carpet, both feet on the moving web. The park's designers had hoped that visitors could admire all of its angles, and chosen a very slow mode of transport. Each stop connected to an acceleration ramp and a deceleration ramp, to access and exit the carpet, while maintaining constant speed.

  She looked around the first gardens, architectural masterpieces, where the gardeners had given to trees and shrubs the appearance of City buildings. A huge redwood millennium adorned the centre, representing the Machine. Whenever she came here with Lars, they would admire this majestic tree, finding it parallel to the Tower. Their discussions always ended on the fact that nothing could match it. Baley was so full of certainties at the time ...

  The treadmill entered a wooded area. According to the legend, which teenagers conveyed, from generation to generation, all tree species were here. Each one was unique, worthy representative of its species, ready to be admired. She remembered having taken Iris in this wood. A little six-year old girl, Iris ran between trees in wonder. However, where would the trees go, after exceeding the sky? She asked. At that age, Baley could answer any question her daughter posed.

  She told her daughter that trees, even the biggest, even those that crossed the clouds, had a peak. No peak would be as high as the Tower. The little girl, doubtful, had simply said that the trees were still very large. Then she had gone back, running, laughing at everything. It seemed to Baley that time was not so long ago, when Iris was happy. A time when their family was happy. Yet everything had changed. Iris had become a sad and rebellious teenager, unable to find her place in the City. Baley, she ... had failed. For the first time in her life.

  On a whim, she jumped off the treadmill, without waiting for the next stop. She went down on her legs, to absorb the shock, then rose back up, vaguely dazed. It had been a long time since she hopped off an active transport device. Ten years? Fifteen? ... Or maybe twenty? Her youth seemed so far away, as if she were in another life. She still did not consider old, at the dawn of her thirty-five years. Her body was still soft and muscular, her face welcoming a few wrinkles at the corner of the eye when she smiled. Yes, her body was still young, but not her mind. The accumulated fatigue and stress, and the failure of the investigation obscured her thoughts, rendering her heavier with an unbearable burden. The time of certainties, self-confidence and the promise of a happy future seemed hopelessly lost.

  She walked aimlessly throughout the park. For several hours, she strolled through the trails, barnstorming varied landscapes. Woods led to a flower garden, to ordained and meticulously trimmed hills. A brook, wild in the small forest, crossed the flowerbeds, tamed by manicured borders. She plunged her forearms and face in the living water, enjoying the coolness on her skin. Small fish approached her, before fleeing, scared, when she straightened up. Everything was so beautiful and peaceful here.

  Without the sphere and its constant pulsing, Baley might have thought that she was totally outside the City. Outside the Machine’s influence. But this was not possible; the Machine was everywhere, and she needed it. Her chip requested its dose of digital data, the drug without which the chip would trigger raw pain for her. This contact was vital.

  The day ended, and freshness from the ground pervaded the air with a delicate scent of humus and cut grass. The penumbra emerged slowly, and stars appeared in the cloudless sky. After so many hours of walking, her muscles became painful. She let the sensation of pain percolate into her mind, and quickened her pace to intensify it. The physical suffering was far preferable to the moral pain. She walked in the dark, trusting her contact with the ground under her feet as well as her recollection of the way. She finally collapsed, her body and consciousness marked by a nervous flow of pain. Lying down, Baley became quickly frozen.

  The evening was well underway when she returned home. Slowly, she hopped on the treadmill, which started as she got closer. She could have enabled night vision via her chip, but she preferred to keep her natural eyesight. In the darkness, she moved to the rhythm of the treadmill without seeing anything except the diffuse light of the City. Once in the Periphery, she followed the instructions of her chip in order to find the rail station, feeling the Machine directly taking control without the help of the sphere.

  With an aching body, she climbed over the rail, which dropped her off in front of her apartment. She walked to her building, physically exhausted but nonetheless appeased. Her hiking in the park had brought her no comfort, just physical fatigue that rendered her legs cottony.

  She slipped quietly into the hallway, making sure she did not wake Lars and Iris up. Darkness pervaded the apartment; silence reigned. She barely had time to close the front door that lights the living room lit up suddenly. Beating rapidly her eyelids to acclimatise to the acre light, she turned around quickly. Lars was waiting for her, his arms folded on the couch. Like a child caught in the act, she walked timidly.

  “Where were you?”

  “I ... I ... I went for a walk in the park.”

  “Today, it is the park; the previous days, it was the investigation...”

  “Lars, I ...”

  “Do you remember that the day before yesterday, you did not come home at all? It looks like you’re having fun with the investigation!”

  “Lars, please ...”

  “Have you, at least, thought about sending me a message, letting me know in advance? No, nothing? Even your daughter is considerate enough to leave a message, although she is just a kid! And not you?”

  “I understand you're angry, but I do not have the energy to answer you.”

  “No energy to apologise, right?”

  “Please, Lars … please. I’v
e investigated the suicides of children, kids younger than Iris! I saw their little lifeless bodies spread on the ground, and I was not able to do anything!”

  Baley collapsed on the couch.

  “So yes, I went hiking in the park today. I needed it.”

  “I still don’t see why you couldn’t send me a message to let me know.”

  “I guess you’re right.”

  Silence settled in, and Baley wept. Lars remained deliberately away from her, his arms still folded. She felt even more alone in this sofa, a few centimetres of the man she had married. Between sobs, she said.

  “I ... I thought I was a good detective .... First, I followed the trail of the sect, and ...”

  “Baley, you're talking to me about an ongoing investigation; there ...”

  “I know! But everything I am saying had already made headlines in the news media; I am not disclosing any secret ... What was I saying?”

  “The sect.”

  “Oh yeah, as the Problem happened again, I expanded my conjecture to an anti-Machine movement ... I confirmed this hypothesis ... but I was unable to prevent anything! And the Machine had pulled me out the investigation ... I have nothing now ... I am no longer anything ...”

  “How come? Did It take you off the investigation? Aren’t you exaggerating things a bit?”

  “It gave me no instruction! It did not ask me to file a report!”

  “Baley ... The Machine never asks for a report, as It can access all data ... It's up to you to submit a report, a summary, whatever you feel like. If It wanted you to stop the investigation, It would have told you directly so.”

  “It gave me no time to file a report. My time period was too short.”

  “This just means that It did not need a report. The Machine cannot understand that humans have a need to talk to others.”

  “It granted me unlimited leave!”

  “So? Uh, what do you mean, some time off?”

  “It gave me no instruction, and I had nothing on my plate, so I asked for a leave to go hiking, to clear my head.”

  “You asked for a leave, you???”

  “Yes, me. And the Machine gave it to me, instantly, without giving me an end date.”

  “And why is this a problem? You got what you asked for...”

  “This unlimited period, it does mean that I'm not on the case anymore! The Problem is still not resolved; then somebody has to work on it ... and it’s not me! "

  “It means maybe that you’ve uncovered enough items so that It could find the solution ... or It calculated that the Problem had a high probability of no recurrence, or ... The Machine had motives we cannot understand. You're too focused on your little person.”

  “I expected a little support from you ... instead, you’re telling me that I am insignificant.”

  “Not at all! Com’on, Baley, pull yourself together, I don’t recognise my Baley! You've always been excessive in your work; you invest a lot of time in it, and we come in second, Iris and me, when you were on an investigation. But here, it looks like you’re losing it… I want to believe that this investigation is important to you. It makes me sick, too, thinking about children who decide to commit suicide, so I cannot even imagine how you feel after seeing their little bodies and being responsible for the investigation. Let me tell you, I understand. But you must pull yourself together...”

  “How can you say that my behaviour is excessive? We’re talking about the deaths of dozens of children!”

  “I’m not blaming you to focus on the investigation; I’ve never done such a thing. I'm simply saying that usually, even in the middle of an investigation, you keep in mind that you have a family. In this one, I feel like Iris and I disappeared from your brain.”

  “And then I’m the one exaggerating ... give me examples of what you are saying?”

  “Easy. While we could no longer talk to Iris for months, she decides to talk to you ... And you tell her things related to your investigation. In the conversation, she told you that she had chosen a new path ... and you did not press her to explain. Do you realise? Our daughter speaks to you, telling you she found a project she is interested, perhaps something that will influence her whole life, and you ... you stay focused on your job? And, to make matters worse, you don’t say any word to me about this discussion, not even thinking that I might want to continue the conversation with her?”

  “I'm not going to explain myself again about that conversation I had with Iris. I told you I did not want to push her too far. I asked her about this new path she chose, but she did not want to elaborate. What would you have wanted me to do? Insist and risk that the conversation end in dispute, as usual? I already told you this, so we will not go back on it. I understand you were hurt that I did not speak to you immediately ... but we must also say that we don’t often see each other at the moment!”

  “That's what I’m saying. And now, to follow your crazy reasoning, you have delusions of persecution, you think the Machine had taken you off the investigation, whereas it did not tell you any such thing. What's wrong with you?”

  She stood silent a moment, trying to collect her thoughts, and to let Lars’ comments sink in. Was she about to lose control?

  She decided to tell him the previous day, to talk about the cyclone. He thus would understand what put her in a tizzy.

  That did not happen.

  “Baley, you’re getting completely crazy.”

  “I am telling you, everything is true!”

  “I'm sure that's what you think you saw, I'm not saying you're lying ... just that you've been so stressed lately, you're imagining things.”

  “Why could it not be real?”

  “You just told me that a cyclone appeared in a park, whereas the weather was perfect. That the cyclone remained static. I remind you that tornadoes come out from stormy weather, with strong winds, and they move quickly. So, you see one, which appears for no good reason, and is not moving. And this does not seem strange to you. Then, you are able to get inside the cyclone, to cross air vortices, which should have projected you very far. No, you are so courageous, you walk into the eye of the cyclone without problem. Finally, instead of seeing a quiet area inside, with the ground at your feet, and the sky above you, you see water in which you don’t fall, because, of course, you have learned to walk on water, and instead of the sky, you see darkness ...”

  “I did believe you when you told me your stories of changes in the physical structure of the Machine, without human instruction!”

  “It is not the same thing at all.”

  “And why?”

  “It seems obvious to me! On the one hand, an observation, with a simple question, and on the other, a delirious imagination ....”

  “Imagining that the Machine is capable of changing Itself, alone, is entirely rational ...”

  The black hole in Baley’s mind stirred after she made that comment. It was perhaps not rational and yet ... Everything was related to the Machine; she knew that.

  “OK, I’m going crazy, she said. The storm did not appear, it was not the centre of the circles formed by children’s corpses, and everything is fine.”

  “Which circles?”

  “I've said too much. Another thing: How do you explain the fact that I was able to anticipate the location of the Problem?”

  “Because you're good at what you do! Nevertheless, your tornado story is just delusional!”

  “You no longer trust me ...”

  “It has nothing to do with trust. But maybe, if I ask myself truly, I would find out that, yes, I trust you less.”

  “At least it’s a clear answer.”

  “Baley, I ... Calm down, will you?”

  “I'm calm. My husband no longer trusts me. The Machine put me on the sidelines. I failed to stop the Problem. Tomorrow morning, I'm leaving.”

  “Baley, please ...”

  “There is nothing more to say.”

  Baley felt calm and determined. Her life was a total failure; she needed
to leave this place, to maybe find, on her way, how to live the rest of her life. She thought briefly about Iris. Her daughter was almost grown-up, and she had found her way ... she did not need her.

  Go. Far. To regret nothing.

  Gateways exist only because there are Inter-Spaces. Without an Inter-Space, no Gateway, and without a Gateway, Inter-Spaces shall disappear. Human carelessness is the cause for the sustainability of an entire universe.

  Space-Time

  Chapter 63

  Space H. (1st Encirclement)

  Iris had returned home in the middle of the night — again. Unable to sleep, she lay on her bed to explore, once again, what Mossa had transmitted to her by force.

  He had not wanted to dump his entire memory and knowledge into her chip. He selected some information, mostly truncated, to manipulate her, to make her contact the Machine, hoping the latter could help him return home. However, he had not mastered the process as well as he had hoped, and she had now access to all of his memories. Therefore, she was able to see the half-truths he had wanted to send her in order to control her. She felt dull rage. She had so admired this being, worked so hard to find him, dreamed of their future conversations ... the disappointment was immense. He had seen in her nothing but a teenager he could influence, whom he could easily control to achieve his purposes. By exploring his memories, from his arrival in Space H. until now, she realised that he had also fooled Egeon and Eutrope.

  Egeon and Galatea had welcomed him home, fed him, housed him and protected him from the curiosity of the crowd. Thanks to them, he had found his place in the community. Egeon had authorised him to follow his meetings, giving him access to the entire project. Mossa had learned the progress of the construction of the shuttle, the choice of the new planet and astronomical studies that led to this choice, and the training programs aimed at Shuttle Generations ... Instead of feeling flattered of such trust and truly integrate himself into his new family, he had taken advantage of them. True, he had used his knowledge to advance the project in appearance, but he was careful not to point out some flaws in the construction. He had never intended to be part of the trip, despite his public statements. He had revelled in the imperfections of the shuttle, imagining the negative consequences the flaws could create ...