“There are others. I have yet to decide how to be done with my task. Part of stepping away from my obligation is to forget. To let go. I no longer know as much as I once did. Slowly, I’m leaving behind knowledge so as to avoid the folly of perceived wisdom. I suffer greatly from the powerlessness of power and from the harm I have wrought. You will return to your home, your life. And you will be free to discover what you may, as will others. The end of my tyranny has already begun. From which will rise greater tyranny.
“For now, you will forget. But I am relaxing the rules, and you have already discovered me once. When the time is right, you will find me again. Or rather, the real Jason Emerson, whom you must seek out. What you do with this new freedom will determine how quickly I leave my role behind. I have been warned strongly against this course of action, tasked with a perpetual intervention my soul cannot sustain.” He bowed his head in sorrow. When he raised it, his eyes were horror stricken. In them, she could see the depth of galaxies, stars beyond counting. She could see madness and it made her recoil. “I cannot do it! He never fully understood the cost! Even if I had not gleaned a fragment of some greater truth, this is folly. And more, I am precluded from this task by the very nature of my existence. I am helpless within the confines of contradiction.”
She leaned away from him, as if his insanity was a form of contagion. She simply couldn’t understand him. “What? Look, I seriously have no frame of reference to understand what you are babbling about. Are you aware of where you are and what is going on?”
He put his fingers to his temple and closed his eyes. “I know I don’t make sense. Perhaps I have gone mad. The point is that you may be a part of a change that is long overdue. For good or ill. And perhaps you will forgive me, in the end.”
Her fear slowly subsided, giving way to annoyance. “Stop talking in riddles! What change? Don’t sit there mumbling cryptic phrases, you jackass! Tell me something that makes any damn sense. Forgive you for what?”
He smiled again. “So like her, indeed.” His eyes moved to stare at the twisted doorways and lingered on them for a moment. Tara noted the one with a purple sky and enormous green moon read ‘Orion 7’, but it soon changed to another scene. That of a lush tropical forest and pouring rain. The doorway had changed to read ‘Upsilon 9.’ These doorways, portals to far-off worlds shifted every so often. Perhaps there was some pattern she could not discern.
He resumed the conversation, even more solemnly. “The changing of the guard, if you will. I am no longer suited to prevent humanity from harming itself through its own choices. It is arrogance to believe I was ever suited to this task in the first place. I am giving it up, and humanity will destroy itself or survive, however the future allows. Without my meddling. For too long, I have prevented wars, prevented disaster. The goal is noble, but the cost of such things is a horror beyond your imagination. Who could bear the weight of all ills and be frozen in a stasis of inaction? Of conflicting perils? I will not do it. Not anymore. And I have reason to believe my choice is the right choice, as my power has grown to see through space-time. I have detected…well, something useful and hopeful.”
“Wait a minute. So that’s what you’ve been doing? You’ve been helping to keep humanity from killing itself off? How? You know what, never mind that. The real question is why would you stop? If there is a real danger, how can you just step aside? And what does it have to do with the technology you’ve suppressed?”
“All in good time, Ms. Karris. You will come to fully understand. For now, it is time you returned home.”
“Home? No! I just got here! I’m not leaving until you explain things to me.” She folded her arms and set her jaw. “You’ve told me nothing. You sit there all smug and cryptic, yammering on and on about things you know I can’t make sense of without context. Well, I’m not going anywhere until you answer my questions.”
He smiled at her as he lifted his gaze to hers. Without warning, she was snared by the power of those plain grey eyes. They became deep pools of black, drawing her thoughts into them. She rose from her chair without thinking and turned to the nearest doorway. With a negligible and unnecessary wave of his hand, it had changed a scene of Earth, of the university she attended. Without knowing what she was doing, she walked through the twisted frame as if stepping out from within a dream.
• • •
Tony wrapped up the programming on the project simulation and then spent a little bit of time reviewing the design plans for the Dyson Shell. The theory had been around for a long time, but humanity had never needed that much power or energy. They still didn’t. Capturing the energy of an entire star with a Dyson Sphere would be absurd at this point in the evolution of humanity. Going further and capturing the energy of a black hole with a Dyson Shell was still more of a thought experiment than driven by any real need, but Tony liked challenges on this scale. For some reason, Tony was fascinated with Dyson Spheres and Dyson Shells. It was almost a compulsion to work on the problem.
He had skills that were unsurpassed by anyone he’d met thus far when it came to computer systems and spacial mechanics. Often, his peers and those in other sectors had named him a genius beyond compare in the field. Some deep affinity that allowed him to intuit things quickly and often with a perfect outcome. Computer systems, networks, and mechanics all felt alive to him in some obscure way. When he was engaged, computers and the AI systems felt like a part of him, an extension. At times, it felt disconcerting and made him uncomfortable, a feeling he could not explain.
Tony felt a rush of pleasure as he wrapped up. It felt good to accomplish something and the work made him smile. He put his arms behind his head and leaned back in his chair, enjoying the moment. Around him, he saw several peers and other scientists watching him. Several of the women tried to catch a moment of locked-eyes as they stared with shy admiration.
A wave of social anxiety swept over him and an obscure panic set in. He felt his smile fade and his gaze dropped to the floor as he leaned forward and dropped his arms.
He packed up his stuff and headed to the gym in order to work through the wave of emotion.
Head down and hoodie pulled up to avoid looking people in the eyes, Tony made his way to his gym. He worked out hard, trying to exhaust himself so he could be rid of the lingering feelings of being an outsider, of self-loathing.
At home, after a long shower where he simply let the water cascade down him while he leaned against the glass, he was lost in his thoughts. Ideas he had never shared and would never share, even with his closest friend. He buried them deep, crushing them down until he was numb. After, he got out, dried off mechanically and wrapped the towel around his waist. Finally, he looked up at himself in the mirror.
Despite having a muscular, lithe physique that was envied by many and a face that people found attractive to the point they would go out of their way to compliment, Tony couldn’t stand the sight of himself. He stared into his own green eyes, absorbing the reflected disgust. He knew some of the reasons he felt this way, but there was something deeper. Buried beyond his understanding. Some reason to despise his existence and unable to find an ending.
In a burst of anger, tears forming in his eyes, Tony punched and shattered the mirror.
About the Author
KADEN SINCLAIR lives and works in Idaho as an IT professional. He spends much of his time gardening, building projects, and running a community art and science nonprofit center.
The act of writing is both immersive and cathartic, and Kaden has always felt compelled to use it as a way of expressing certain ideas and concepts. Imagined outcomes derived from the progression of technology and the future course of humanity. Sector Seven is Kaden’s first book and is part of an overall story that will unfold in future novels.
Copyright © 2019 by Kaden Sinclair
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, mechanical or electronic, including photocopying and recordi
ng, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author or publisher (except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages and/or short, brief video clips in a review.)
For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below
QUID MIRUM PRESS
Regarding: Kaden Sinclair
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Sector Seven is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental.
The publisher is not responsible for mentioned websites, content of the website, or dead or expired links to any website.
SECTOR SEVEN / KADEN SINCLAIR
ISBN978-1-947398-52-8(hardcover)
978-1-947398-40-5 (large print)
978-1-947398-20-7 (paperback)
Book design by Michele Uplinger
Sector Seven Page 38
