The way she’d discovered this anomaly had been an accident. Working with her specially designed nannites had led her to realize that something was sending signals outside of the normal transmission bands. A vibration that seemed to be part of the cosmological background, but for which there seemed to be no fixed source. The sub-band of transmissions was out of the norm, but she had intercepted it and, unlike the thousands who had discovered it before her, she had found a way to prevent complete loss of memory or interest. She could, in no way, decipher the information. It was encrypted at a quantum level, and there simply was no practical means for decryption. But she could work out its path. Or, in this case, paths. There were a number of them, all moving around. However, they pointed toward a guiding source of some kind. Like little streams converging toward a river, which in turn converged.
Through carefully designed experiments, she had finally traced one such source convergence to Ashram Five. An unlikely place for the ruler of the known universe to be hiding, since it was so remote. However, with quantum computing and the ability to now bend space-time for travel through space at near instant speads and instantaneous informational exchange, this person could be anywhere at all and be equally effective. Why not this world? Maybe it held some significance.
As she walked toward a warehouse, her long, raven black hair swaying behind her, she saw four of her recruits entering the space around a crumbling warehouse. They had the building surrounded. Each carried archaic and highly illegal projectile weapons. Guns of old, without technology and which operated off of gunpowder. They also carried a flashlight and various other non-computational devices. She knew it was the only way they had any chance of success. Anything that was technological in nature could be used against them. Her vast resources and unlimited money had bought her all the tools she envisioned she might need. She’d paid off a number of officials to overlook the illegal weaponry.
She had to assume the outer ring of her people were already in place, providing a second net to capture The Phantom if he eluded her. The inner ring, which consisted of two dozen of her bravest friends, was now covering the entrances and exits of the warehouse in front of her. The roof had four people hiding on it. And even underneath, in the maintenance tunnels, she had a group crouching in the dark.
Her entire team had just come from her lab. She had called them all there under the guise of having discovered a new method for growing protein from molecular assembly processes that would have allowed humanity to create food from almost nothing. It was an actual technological discovery, but it was front for her real reasons. As her team had arrived, she had disrupted the rogue signals, injected them with her specialized nannites, and briefed them on the mission. They had only been out of the lab for a few hours to move between worlds. They had not yet succumbed to the influence of The Phantom. If they did not hurry, they would be made to forget and to leave, but she had enough time to catch him or her if they worked quickly.
With a deep breath, she nodded to the man at her right. He continued the physical signal to the next person, and in a few moments, the woman to her left nodded back at Tara. The circle was complete, and everyone was ready.
She was startled to find the front of the building was unlocked as she and five of her team moved in. Carefully controlling her panic, she had to believe he wasn’t yet aware of her intent. If he was, Tara would not even be here. The Phantom could clearly control the transport systems and prevent her arrival. He could have moved to a more secure location.
In a moment of wild panic, she thought what if he had misdirected her here? What if he had intended to lure her to this remote planet and eliminate her entirely?
Her hand began to shake and the beam of light from her flashlight wavered. Her friend Allison reached out and steadied it, giving her a meaningful look of reassurance.
Tara took another deep breath and nodded. They began to advance slowly, their flashlights revealing dusty floors and mountains of stacked crates. The dust was undisturbed, and the only footprints being left were their own. This sent another chill down her back. It appeared that nobody was here at all.
She doubted her own sanity. Maybe this was all a paranoid delusion?
As they covered the front area of the warehouse and circled the office complex within, she noted that the schematics for this place were wrong. There was a second story, which was not depicted in her maps. She motioned to her right and Chad led the way up the stairs. Several others continued their way through the maze of inner rooms on the first floor as Tara, Chad, and Allison went to the upper floor.
Painfully aware that their flashlights were obvious in the dark of the building, they climbed the metal stairs and opened the door into the warren of rooms above.
Chad motioned suddenly and they all stopped. To their right, they heard the faint sound of someone singing. They strained to hear the haunting tune for a moment and then she motioned to move forward. Allison outlined the door with her flashlight and they all gathered outside of it. Then, they turned the beams off and Tara slowly turned the knob of the door.
It opened without a sound and they had to suppress a sigh of relief. She felt a touch on her left hand, and it was lifted to point toward the far left. There was a faint light off in the distance.
For a moment she was puzzled. Why would a man this powerful be lurking in a dark, dusty warehouse? It was strange and more than a little ridiculous. Still, she couldn’t risk the chance that she was wrong by abandoning all her years of work. They crept forward, slowly feeling their way by sweeping their feet. They could faintly make out nearby crates and boxes, neatly stacked and covered in dust. There were no footprints or other indications that the space around them had been disturbed in a very long time. Even more puzzling, since the man they approached had to have arrived somehow.
As they got closer, they could see a man clearly sitting on a rather old, high-backed worn chair. It was very Victorian, covered in a deep red velvet and with ornate woodworking and clawed feet.
He continued singing softly, his voice gorgeous and rich. Pure and mournful. The song tugged at her, spoke of a deep longing that she could not name. From this distance she could not make out the words, but the melody gave her goosebumps.
His features were plain, unassuming. Tara noted a few other plush chairs strewn within the circle of light. She saw a couple of tables. Most peculiar, he was surrounded in a three-quarter circle by what appeared to be oddly twisted door frames. Each held a scene of some far-off place, worlds throughout the empire.
In his hand, he held a framed photograph. His gaze lingered on it as his song continued. At last he sighed and returned the photograph to the box at his feet.
The light around the area was not coming from any discernable place, but appeared to be emanating from floor and ceiling. Even the furniture. It almost appeared as if it were a hologram. The scene was so strange, Tara didn’t know how to proceed. They crouched there for a long time, staring, trying to make sense of things.
Her team should have found a way to turn on the lights to the warehouse by now, but there was no hint of power in the building. Just that strange illumination around the man in the chair. She grew increasingly worried. Her teams should be closing the circle.
After another few minutes dragged on, she was starting to panic. They had delayed long enough that some of her team should be here by now.
Where was everyone?
Finally, worried she would miss this one opportunity, she resolved to move forward. Motioning to Chad and Allison to follow her, she crept closer, hiding behind boxes and crates. The man sighed again and then continued to sing, his rich baritone became increasingly easy to hear. The words were mournful, poetic. They bespoke of far-off places and a love long lost.
When they were close enough to make out his ageless features, she could see he had dark hair and eyebrows, and his eyes appeared to be grey. Nothing about him was remarkable, except the depth of the sorrow conveyed in his voice and his indeterminate age.
He finally finished the song and then suddenly smiled in a welcoming and gentle way Tara did not expect, startling her. “You might as well come sit. It will be far more comfortable than crouching in the dark. Your legs are cramping and you’ve had plenty of time to observe me sitting here. I’m clearly not going anywhere.”
Tara swallowed hard.
He knew.
With that realization, she also understood that he had known all along. He had planned this, or somehow manipulated her into coming. All her cleverness, her work to get here. It was all part of some plan. Tara felt like a fool.
She stood then, as did Chad and Allison. They walked toward the man, who continued to smile, and entered the circle of light.
When they entered and were bathed in the soft glow, it felt like summertime. Like sunlight. A faint breeze swept through the area and the scent of grass and leaves filled the air. It was soothing, and strangely out of place. Tara could tell that the doorways were more than just projections. They appeared to be actual portals to the scenes within them. Some unknown technology was at play here. Each of the frames were labeled, indicating a particular world or colony, she presumed.
The man’s grey eyes casually swept over the group. “Please, have a seat. I’ll have your companions escorted safely out of the building.”
Before she could object, two other men, identical to the man in the chair, converged on either side. Allison and Chad did not react. In fact, they appeared to be unaware, standing in a trance. The men each took an arm of her companions and led them away. Tara couldn’t seem to move, though the shock of seeing two copies of the man in the chair was so eerie she was shaking with fear.
“Really, it’s fine. They will be perfectly safe. I’ve taken the liberty of disarming the rest of your team and they are all preparing to return to their respective homes, blithely unaware of what has happened to bring you here. Now then, won’t you sit?” That same baritone voice was soothing, calm.
Freed from her stasis, she clenched her jaw and then strode defiantly over to one of the available chairs and flopped down in it in a very un-ladylike fashion. She threw a leg over the arm, trying to give off a nonchalance she did not feel.
For a long moment she just stared at him. He sat with equanimity.
Finally, Tara found the courage to speak. “Who are you? Why here, if you knew I was looking for you? Why let me carry on this charade?”
“You look so like her.” His voice was soft, quiet.
Tara’s felt her eyebrows crease in annoyed confusion. “What are you talking about?”
He sighed. “It has been such a long time. Would you care for something to drink?”
She stared at him for a moment as disbelief roiled inside of her. “What? No, I’m fine.” There was no sign of food or water anywhere.
The man reached to his right and the table surface changed, rippled. She gasped as part of the table liquefied and then rose toward his hands. The material then solidified into a cup. More, it filled with a hot liquid which gave off a pleasant odor.
Tea.
Startled, she could only stare. “How?” she breathed.
“A simple thing, really. There are a great many things I can do that appear to be magical, but I assure you, they are all technological in nature. Do not be afraid.” He took a sip. “Are you sure you won’t have any?”
She involuntarily swallowed again, her stomach making her salivary glands hyper-active. Taking a deep breath, she pressed on hand against her temple as if trying to massage sanity back into her mind. “No. I don’t-” She swallowed hard. “I don’t even know what is going on here. Look, who are you? Or maybe I should ask WHAT are you?”
A pained look crossed his face, and the depth of the hurt behind those grey eyes touched her heart. “You are also as direct as she was, I see.”
“Who are you talking about?”, she repeated.
“It doesn’t matter. It was a very long time ago.”
“I’m so confused right now. If you aren’t going to answer any of my questions, I’m not even sure what to ask or say.”
“Very well. I suppose I can answer in some way.” His eyes closed briefly, as if in exhaustion. “In general, I’m the person you’ve been looking for.”
“The Phantom?”
His smile didn’t touch his eyes, which seemed to hold a world of sadness. “A quaint and overused name for mysterious figures. Not to be offensive, but that title really lacks creativity.” He breathed deeply. “I am not entirely he, no. But for the purposes of meeting you, I am enough.”
Fearing he might be slightly insane, she bit her lower lip and said nothing.
“As to your other questions. This world, this city, was as easy as anywhere.” He looked around at the high-backed chairs, “I have a particular affinity for some of the items stored here. Some of the things in boxes in this old warehouse hold memories of another lifetime. We-I come here on occasion to look at them. “ His fingers brushed the frame of the photograph he’d been looking at when they’d arrived.
“And the act of finding this place gave you purpose, showed me that you were willing to work toward finding answers, understanding. I could just as easily have met with you on any world, at any time. This place suffices, and you wanted to work out a puzzle, so here we are.” He glanced at the doorways and smiled faintly. “I must also confess that I tire of interfering. I relaxed my control enough to allow you to find me. In your own way. A bit more elaborate than I would have expected, but you did find me.
“Despite what you might believe, I rarely interfere and only with great need. Increasingly, I’m loath to make any changes at all. It was necessary that you seek me out, rather than presenting myself to you. Would you have come willingly? Even so, you would have been entirely too cautious and caused even more of a stir. As to the inferred question, I have not yet completely removed myself from my role of guiding humanity, but then, I have been acting as a guide for a such a very long time.”
Her eyes widened. “So you ARE the one manipulating us!”
He looked at her for a long moment. “Again, not entirely. I am the chief Avatar, but I suppose it makes things easier for you to understand if you just think of me as the one you seek. You will notice there are others.”
She looked over her shoulder. “Your associates? Or are they clones?”
He nodded. “I am many. Thousands strewn about the distant worlds. Replicas with a single mind. It was necessary. Now, we willingly lay them to rest. One by one, I am—we are less than once we were.”
She had trouble understanding what he meant by this, but the implication was disturbing. She knew full well what an Avatar was and his use of the term made her shudder.
“Clearly you can manipulate the matter in this place, or at least in this area. Is that true of everywhere? Are your nannies spread through all the worlds, so that you can manipulate matter anywhere? You do have a subset of nannies that are just yours, don’t you? That’s how you are doing all of this, using a form of technology nobody else possesses. And what is this all about? Who are you? How old are you? And why are you interfering to begin with?”
“You are astute, and your guesses are mostly correct. My name is no longer relevant. But at one time, we were one person. We were known as Jason Emerson.”
Tara’s eyes moved to stare at the twisted door frames for a moment, recalling her history. Jason Emerson was the villain who had nearly destroyed humanity before he was stopped by Sector Seven. “That name can’t be a coincidence.” She was even more confused. “Wait. So, what? You are the same man? Or are you somehow a copy, a clone?”
“I am an unassuming and necessarily plain approximation of that man, yes. I am not the original, though he still lives.” He glanced at one of the doorways, which showed a lonely beach somewhere and a huge, green moon in a purple sky. “It isn’t that easy, when you are as interconnected and spread out as I have become. At the time, I was solely Jason Emerson, who then became Jason Fade.”
&nbs
p; “The man who killed thousands? Who tried to take over the council? I thought you died in prison!” In truth, he looked nothing like the images in the historical records. This man was so ordinary, with his grey eyes and dark hair. Average height and weight. You wouldn’t give this man a second glance on the street. Jason Emerson from long ago was a stunning man, with blond hair and crystal blue eyes. The archives held thousands of images him, and Tara had studied them exhaustively. Where had she heard that last name? Fade...
“I did die, sort of. At least, a copy of me died. It was necessary at the time. No other solution was as ideal. My death along with assuming the blame for what had occurred was the best way to move forward. And truly, I deserve the blame for what I have done. But these questions are no longer relevant. You may learn those truths at another time. For now, I just wished for us to meet. There will come a time when I ask you to help me relinquish my ill-gotten controls. To free me from a promise I once made and cannot break. Not yet, at least. Soon.”
She looked at him a long moment. “That name. Fade. Wasn’t Sector Seven’s true name Tarien Fade? Were you lovers? Married, when everyone thought you dead?” While homosexuality had been edited out of the human genome, it was prevalent throughout most of history. Tara had read about Jason extensively and one of his characteristics had been his affinity for the company of other men.
A flash of his earlier pain crossed the Avatar’s face. “Indeed. We were bonded more than you can ever know. He is gone and yet I remain. An impotent shell of what I once was, seeking to break a vow I once took. And, in my grief, I have overstepped the order of things. I can no longer be trusted.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? And what do you mean by assuming the blame. It wasn’t you?” Then, when no answer was forthcoming, “Okay? So I’m here. What do you expect me to do? Why me? If you aren’t going answer my questions, at least tell me that much. So far, you aren’t making any damn sense.”
Sector Seven Page 37
