Vrin: Ten Mortal Gods

by John Michael Hileman

  “‘And if I refuse?’

  “‘Then I will send you back!’

  “The dark one hissed, stepped backward, and lifted his arms. His body contorted into a hideous gesture. ‘I WILL NOT GO BACK!’ A tremendous flash blinded those who looked on. The ground trembled. And all that remained was silence, and pain.”

  I leaned back in my chair and looked at Corel over the dusty tattered book. Armadon paced by the door of the dimly lit tent. "The people unleashed a demon from chaos," I stated with disbelief.

  “Not just any demon.” Corel put her head in her hands. “Supposedly the creator of chaos.”

  “Are you saying he's the devil?"

  "I'm not saying anything.” She looked up at me. “It's the people who say it."

  I got to my feet, my fingers moving across the surface of the book. “It’s time I shared something with you.” I chose my words carefully. “I, ah-- know the nature of this place."

  Armadon stopped pacing. Corel stared on with curiosity.

  I looked at them.

  "Go on," they said in unison.

  "We are, sort of sleeping," I stated.

  "That's ridiculous!" Armadon's voice boomed out. “I haven't slept since I arrived!"

  "Let me finish," I said sharply. Wow! He was on my side and he still made me nervous. I left a wary eye on him. "Are you familiar with REM sleep?"

  I looked at Corel. She nodded. I glanced over at Armadon. I gathered from his squinting eyes that he was not.

  "There are four levels of sleep during the normal human sleep cycle, which takes about three hours. We go from level one to level four and back again, always in REM just before we awake. Think of it as submerging yourself in a pond. Above the surface you are awake but as you go down deeper into the water you go deeper into sleep. The shallowest is level one, which is where REM occurs. REM stands for rapid eye movement. It’s where you dream all those funky things you can barely remember when you wake up. As you go down through levels two and three you go deeper into a restful sleep, the last of which is level four. Level four non-REM sleep is a rejuvenating sleep. Are you following?"

  "I'm assuming there's a point," Armadon quipped.

  "There is indeed. You see, we are not in level one. We are in a simulated dream state in level four non-REM. As we speak, a computer is being used to stimulate our minds into a low level active state." I walked over to Armadon. "Whenever Armadon does something the computer remembers it and alters my perception of this world to fit Armadon's change. If I were to slide this table the computer would change each of your perceptions as to where this table is." I gestured towards the roof of the tent. "The cognosphere remembers every tiny detail as we are changing things."

  "All this is very fascinating, but why?" asked Corel, beginning to squirm in her chair.

  "There are many whys. Can you be more specific?"

  "Why are we in here and why can't we wake up?"

  I paused. "Apparently the ten of us have all suffered damage to our brains. We are unable to wake up-- because we are all in comas."

  Corel squinted at me. "How do you know all this stuff?"

  "I've had contact with the outside, with the scientists who are conducting the experiment."

  Both looked at me with faces devoid of expression. I was sure their minds reflected the same blankness.

  Finally Corel stammered, "Th-that's not possible. We... Technology isn't that advanced! How is this possible?"

  "Well obviously it's very possible. I don't know why, or how, but it's the truth as I know it. Why else would we have memories of another place and another life?"

  "Can you prove this?" asked Armadon.

  "I can let you talk to the scientists yourselves."

  Armadon feigned a look out the door of the tent. "Let's assume for a moment that what you say is true. How does it fit in with the events occurring around us?"

  "I've thought long and hard about that one but I'm afraid I don't know. What I do know is that these events are real to us. And as the death of Humphrey can attest, if we die in here, there's no coming back. As for the advent of Kric' tu, I don't have the slightest clue. Vrin was created by the scientists and they say we are finishing the work they started. But it would appear that life on this planet existed for centuries before our arrival. These people have lives and a history.” I paused and thought a moment. “Vrin's history could be a series of made up events that have transpired from the intricacies of this environment. Maybe Kric' tu was just a mistake."

  "A pretty big mistake," said Corel.

  "Perhaps supernatural components were added to the program to simulate our own folklore and myth."

  Corel stood. Her hands went to her hips and she began to pace. "Kric' tu is instigating events that could destroy this planet. Can't those scientists stop him?"

  "I don't know. I’d have to ask.“ I paused. “But before doing that I'd like to know more about what happened inside the castle today."

  Corel stopped pacing and fielded the question. "As you know our intentions were to find out about the woman and child, who they are and why Gaza is so interested in finding them. But we learned more than we bargained for.” She shook her head in disbelief. “Rath is holding the woman and child in his dungeon. Gaza doesn't know this. And it looks like Kric' tu is calling the shots. We don't know why he doesn't want Gaza to have the woman and child but Rath has been given strict orders to hold them. We can only assume that he wants Gaza to go through with his threat."

  I let this new information sink in for a moment, then added, "Humphrey said the two may be replicas of Gaza's wife and daughter. They died in his last existence and he has an unnatural preoccupation with them. Kric' tu may be aware of this but what doesn't make sense to me is, why would a character of this world want to destroy its home?"

  Armadon interjected. "From what we know Kric' tu is the creator of chaos. It would make sense for him to destroy governments, or cause upheavals. Maybe destroying this world is not his main intention."

  "Good point," I said. "He could be stirring things up a little to get us to play his game.

  “A little?” Corel said. “He's already stirring things up a lot. The question is how do we stop him?"

  I stepped back and looked at them. "Well, let's ask Dr. Solomon. Are you ready to meet the man in charge?"

  Both nodded.

  I brought up the web and followed the steps to alert the doctor of my presence. "This might take a second."

  Armadon stepped over and looked at the stretched-out strand. "That's the program?"

  "Yes."

  "How did you find it?"

  "By accident really. I had time to kill and was examining the web to better understand how it worked."

  He leaned in closer. "You understand that stuff?"

  "Supposedly I'm some kind of programmer, at least that's what they told me. I can read it as easily as you can read English."

  The thread buzzed and came to life. "Robert?" came Dr. Solomon’s voice.

  “Yes, I’m here, and I have two of the others with me.”

  I glanced at Corel. She looked confused. “Who’s Robert?” she whispered.

  “Hold on a minute, Doctor.” I turned toward Corel. “Robert Helm is my real name.”

  “Oh. --What's mine?"

  “Can you tell them who they are, Doc?"

  "I'm not sure. I could take a guess but I might not be right. It's complicated. You see, you are writing portions of the program we aren't able to read yet. We've been working frantically to understand the code but there's so much of it. The system was open-ended and we had no idea how to simulate an internal environment. So we let you come up with one on your own."

  "I thought you said you created this world."

  "I did. We did. Well, we made the framework, but you've changed it and adapted to it. There isn't much left of the original program."

  I was puzzled. "Well then, how did you know who I was?"

  "You're the only programmer in the system so
we knew if anyone responded to our message it would have to be you. But we have a complete personality profile on each of you so perhaps if you tell me something about the other two I might be able to figure out who they are.

  Corel interjected. "I like to explore, I'm into climbing, and I love nature." Her eyes shone with excitement, like I hadn't seen since her reunion with Kitaya.

  Kitaya. My mind drifted to that place which held the memory of her. When I was with her I’d felt less alone-- she had given me peace for a time. I wanted our relationship to go further but time had been so short. There was so much I wanted to tell her. I missed her.

  "Hold on, I'm checking our dossiers. Ah, here we are. Most likely you are Helen Vandergraten, biologist, age 43."

  Corel was silent.

  "How about the other?" asked Dr. Solomon.

  Armadon spoke up. "I don't do much of anything."

  "You do a pretty good job of fighting this war," I said.

  "Yes, I do seem to have a lot of knowledge about tactical movements."

  "Say no more. There's a pretty good chance you are Major Ben Kendrick, age 36. You have an honorable discharge from the United States Army."

  "Why don't I remember any of that?"

  "We don't know. Amnesia is a strange creature."

  "Well let's get back on track," I said. "The reason we contacted you is to see if you can lend us a hand. One of the characters in here has gone out of control. You said you can't locate us but can you locate the simulated characters?"

  "Do you have a name?"

  "Kric' tu."

  "We can do a search and try to find a path for that name but it's going to be extremely difficult. The computer has assigned a number to each of the people in there including you. We would have to locate a text reference, something that was written about him, and then cross-reference it with location data stored on our time line. I think we can do it but it'll take awhile. Today for the first time we stumbled onto the text references and we're learning a great deal. It’s quite fascinating."

  “Yes. Well, do what you can. I'll check in periodically to see how you're progressing."

  “I'll get right on it. Good luck, Robert."

  The thread went limp and I let the web fade away. “Doesn't look like they're going to be much help at the moment." I looked at Corel. She seemed preoccupied. “You all right, Corel?"

  She turned away from me. "Yeah, I'm fine."

  "I realize it's a lot to swallow. Are you going to be okay?"

  "Yes!" She snapped. "It's just... I'm not sure how to feel about all this. I just want to wake up from this nightmare."

  "We all do,” I said gently. “But until we figure out how we need to continue with what we're doing. Kric' tu must be stopped."

  "You're right." She sighed.

  Armadon spoke. "We need to rescue the woman and child and bring them to Gaza."

  "Yes, but someone needs to tell Gaza they are being held. He has to know they're alive or he might go ahead with his plans.” I paused and looked down at the floor. “And there is still the matter of Kitaya. It concerns me we haven't heard from her."

  "We suspect Tiko has her detained," said Corel.

  I began moving toward the door. "Then I’ll go after her."

  "No.” Corel was quick to respond. “I'll do it. No one knows Tiko better than me."

  I wanted to object-- but realized she was right. "Okay, but let us know as soon as you find her..." I started to say more but stopped before inadvertently revealing my feelings for her.

  "That leaves two tasks," said Armadon.

  "Which do you prefer?" I asked.

  "I've had my fill of Rath."

  I nodded. "Understood. I'll try to locate the woman and child. You go to Gaza."

  Corel stepped between us. "What about the war?"

  "I'll fight it,” came a voice from above.

  Startled, our heads turned up in unison. A hole had been cut through the top of the tent and the face of a beautiful dark-skinned woman looked through. Her angelic smile was matched only by the loveliness of her vibrant blue eyes. “May I join you?"

  "Who...?"

  She slipped through the hole, landed solidly on the wooden table, then hopped to the floor. "I’m Lorna, the tenth. Sajin came to me this morning and explained what was going on. At first I thought he was a fruit, but since he was right about these weird powers-- and after seeing the battle ground out there my attitude has changed a bit."

  "Did he explain about the war?" I asked.

  "No, just basically good versus evil stuff, right?"

  I smiled and nodded, then allowed my mind to reach secretly out into the web. Sajin was waiting for me.

  "Greetings, Lord Tardin," came the thoughts of Sajin Barrows.

  "Did you send Lorna to us?"

  "Yes, I did."

  "Thank you. I will be in touch."

  His presence faded away into the void.

  "Right. Well then," I said. "Welcome aboard, Lorna. I'm Jason. This is Armadon." I pointed. He bowed slightly. "And this is Corel." They shook hands.

  I looked at Corel and Armadon. "Sajin says he sent her. That's good enough for me. Anyone have any objections?" I looked to one then to the other. "Okay then,” I smiled at Lorna, “let's fill you in and get you trained."

  CHAPTER 12

  THE SOUL OF A PEOPLE

  001001011001110

  Lorna was a quick study and the kind of woman who spoke exactly what was on her mind. I liked that about her. She was as bright as she was beautiful; within an hour she had picked up all the tricks we could think to teach her.

  Preparations were made for our separate ventures. I helped the others by creating two pistols. Armadon was pleased with his. It was his first firearm since coming to this world. The weapon was dwarfed in his massive hand, but a look of satisfaction played upon his broad features. Corel, however, held her weapon like a diseased handkerchief. After I showed her how to hold it properly, and explained that it was a low caliber weapon, she appeared more at ease, but not much.

  We headed out, thanking Lorna for her help, and fate for her auspicious arrival. On the tops of the walls weary soldiers stood guard. There was an eye in every direction and a sense of apprehension in the air. At any moment an attack could come. We were fortunate to have such brave, alert men fighting with us. When this war was over, we planned to reward them generously.

  Behind the cover of the wall, Armadon and Corel disappeared in a flash of blue. I paused at the entrance to the compound, looking out onto the misty battlefield-- at the bodies of the dead cooling in the evening air. Soon it would be nightfall. It would be easier to hide in the dim blue light of the moons so I sat and began tossing stones, waiting for the darkness.

  Behind me the sound of footfalls approached. They slowed as they neared, then stopped. "Sir?" said the voice belonging to the feet.

  "Yes?" I said without turning.

  "I know I'm not supposed to talk to you, but something weighs heavily on the minds of my men."

  "Come then," I said kindly, "sit with me."

  "Oh, no, lord. I could not."

  "Sit with me, or I shall be offended."

  He came around my side hesitantly then placed his helmet on the ground and perched on it. Weariness showed on his dirty young face, but he held himself up, I assumed, with a strength fueled by the cause. His chest was proud through his tattered uniform, his rank, all but melted off.

  "What can I help you with?" I said, continuing to toss stones.

  “Has Gaza turned his back on us?"

  What an interesting question. I looked at the boy and was again struck with curiosity about these people. For the most part I was too caught up in the events of the moment to consider the implications of this world's existence, or to pay much attention to its residents. But once again I found myself in awe of their diversity. Who was asking this question? I could sense this boy's apprehension-- but computer simulations don't feel nervous. This boy, like Thana, appeared to be a com
plex living being, possessing all the strengths and frailties which make up human existence. But he wasn’t real! If this world was an induced dream state, then who was responsible for this boy's question?

  "Sir?" prompted the boy.

  "No. Gaza has not turned his back on your people. Kric' tu is the one responsible for this conflict."

  "Kric' tu?" The boy’s face whitened. He knew the name, and he feared it.

  "Do not fear. We will defeat him. Our forces are strong.” After a short silence the boy began getting to his feet. But I stopped him. I wanted to get a better understanding of his design-- and pass the time before my trip. "Do you have a family?"

  "Yes.” He hesitated, then settled back down. “My mother and father wait for me with my youngest brother. I'm the oldest. My other brother, Finton, is here, but he is under another command."

  "How do you feel about your brother being here with you?" I asked, studying his face.

  "Well, at first I was angry that he enlisted behind my back. But he's getting older. I suppose it's time for him to prove himself, as it was for me."

  "Do you watch out for him?"

  "Yes, like an eagle," he said turning away slightly. His face was thoughtful, contemplative.

  The boy's reactions were totally believable, with every mannerism completely in tune with the content of the conversation. He seemed so real. I suppose it was possible his emotions were feeding off The Ten, but from which of us did he draw his perception?

  "Are you afraid to die?" I asked, wanting to see how he would handle a philosophical question.

  "No, I do not fear it. You are with me," he said confidently.

  "And what do you think I will do for you?"

  His eyebrows knitted. "I don't understand."

  I reworded my question. "What is it about my presence that sets you at ease?"

  "Your presence provides proof that the gods do exist. The Marathil states that you will introduce our souls to the light. If I die at your side, it will only be my body. My soul will live on. Right?"

  It was obvious I was making him tense with my questions. Just one more, then I’d stop. "Where do you think your spirit will go when it is released from your body?"