Moving Earth

by Dean C. Moore

  Leon bit off a smile. “I’m overdue for a seat at the bar. I’ll invite you with me, provided you agree to change the subject. Otherwise, I’m not sure there’s enough liquor on this ship.”

  “Nah, I’m headed toward the rejuvenation tank. I’m taking a lesson from you. I’m going to have Mother immerse me in relationships with alien species that are part of the alliance whose heads you’ll need to get inside of better. That way I can make sure not to lose my value-add as your chief advisor.”

  Leon snorted. “Not to mention getting your mind around mating with a monkey. Talk about killing two birds with one stone.”

  Crumley shrugged. “The court is still out on that one. Even if Omega Force could absorb the impact of that blow, I’m not sure how I feel about setting such a precedent aboard the Nautilus. We’d have to expand our diplomatic corps a hundredfold just to deal with the fallout of interspecies intimate relationship misunderstandings.”

  “We might have to do that anyway, considering we are no longer a people that can afford the luxury of thinking they’re alone in the world. And don’t you dare take that to mean I’m trying to influence your romantic decisions in any way.”

  Crumley waved his goodbye as he headed toward his private chambers and his rejuvenation tank.

  Leon just stared at his back open-mouthed, amazed he could hold off on the reflexive response this long for the sake of his friend.

  ***

  “You’re not going to believe this,” Cronos said, sidling up to the bannister besides Ajax, overlooking the tropical jungle courtyard. “Crumley got proposed to by a talking ape.”

  Ajax glared at him defensively before staring back at the jungle. “Lucky bastard.”

  “Seriously? That’s all you got for me?”

  “Have you seen what passes for humanoids in this galaxy, and among our closest allies? Shit, an ape is starting to look good.”

  “It’s not even a female ape!”

  “Who can tell anymore?” Ajax returned his eyes to the jungle. “Theta Team, I believe, technically speaking, every last one of them, is both sexes at the same time. Some can tilt the seesaw anyway they want as the situation demands. I’m not sure any of us can afford the luxury of sexual bias any longer. And, considering the other options…” He craned toward Cronos. He was standing with his cross in hand, as tall as him, the flames dialed down on it to a low setting. “What, you’re married to God. Somehow that’s not for me.”

  “Dude, I’ve never seen you this glum.”

  “Yeah, well, wake up, asshole; the jokers are the saddest people around. I’d kill to have someone who wants to wrap their arms around me—and I don’t mean my throat—at the end of the day.”

  Cronos rested his hand on Ajax’s shoulder. “I’ll say a prayer. It’ll help. You’ll see.” And then he padded off.

  Ajax watched him hiking off, barefoot, like Christ himself, using a flaming crucifix as a staff. Cronos was perennially burning the son of God alive. Maybe he meant it as a symbol to suggest that, like the Phoenix, Christ was being reborn to a new era. Ajax was tempted to yell after him to shove that flaming stick up his ass, but he guessed the guy had a right to his PTSD, and to deal with it how he saw fit. Lucky bastard.

  One of the female ambassadors came up to Ajax, took the position Cronos had vacated by his side, leaning over the banister. “You’ll forgive me for eavesdropping.”

  “Aren’t you like the pretend ambassador who was really just here to sell us out? Who only came clean when Sonny was torturing you? Only to have Leon leave you in Sonny’s hands because there was no other way to control your evil?” Ajax was referring back to developments that had occurred during The Star Gate Mission.

  She snorted. “And you say you feel lonely?”

  He grimaced looking at the way she oozed various colored puses out of her skin. She had in fact been bioengineered to be a toxic waste dump of communicable viruses meant to cripple the entire crew of the Nautilus. But she did have one hell of a figure.

  “You think you can put a body condom on, I mean from head to toe?” Ajax asked.

  “Never leave home without one.”

  Ajax smiled. “Now we’re talking.” They strolled off together. “Hey, walk ahead of me will ya, so I can watch your sashay. Body condom or no, I think a little hypnosis is in order.”

  “No worries, big guy.” She did as asked.

  Yeah, he thought, this new relationship was going to work out fine.

  ONE HUNDRED FORTY

  ABOARD THE NAUTILUS

  Solo exited his chambers into the main hall surrounding the courtyard, which, once again, was a tropical jungle. The Mars war god had stood down, its abilities no longer needed, at least not for now. The glowing sphere that was the supersentience happy to allow nanite armies to crawl out of it in idle mode to procure the forest and all its talking creatures. A strange split personality for a war god to have as R&R provider for the troops.

  “Who the hell are all these people?” Solo snapped, not recognizing the crew, and he never forgot a face. Or a name. Of the billions of lifeforms he’d known personally.

  “Theta Team will not be coming back to the ship,” Mother explained, “permanently stationed now on worlds making up the Gypsy Galaxy, and spread out to the uninhabited worlds of our allied galaxies as well, gathering intel, dialoguing with Gaia, evolving the biospheres, doing what I bioengineered them to do. Chi Corps and Psi Force also have new homes aboard the 2nd generation Peacekeepers. And my Legacy Tech lifeforms procured to investigate the relics we collected from the Dead Zone before leaving will likewise never return to me, forever better built for the artificial habitats they now inhabit.”

  “So, you were lonely.” Solo could hear it in her voice. He was referring to the replacement crew aboard the Nautilus.

  “Even my diplomats have been deployed across the Gypsy Galaxy Grouping, doing all they can to keep everybody from one another’s throats.”

  Solo stared at the latest menagerie. “Careful, Mother, I know how you feel about your children. I can’t have your allegiance split between the Nautilus and them. Especially if the Gypsy Galaxy is at war. That could compromise everyone’s survival.”

  “How well I know.”

  She sounded less resigned to the matter and more as if she were still thinking through the implications and the workarounds.

  “Well, what the hell are these lifeforms good for?” Solo snapped. Not being much of a people person, he had barely gotten used to the other humanoids she’d procured.

  “I have been working the math on the Star Gate my sister ship visited. I believe the equations grant entry into closed-infinities like the one we inhabit.”

  “You mean like the multiverse of multiverses Leon is determined to police?”

  “Our multiverse is just one such closed-loop infinity among many.”

  The bands of Solo’s rainbow eyes were spinning. “You’re alluding to Cantor sets. He did the preliminary math on this.”

  “Quite preliminary by my standards, and by the standards of the beings that created the Star Gate.”

  Solo sighed. He was twirling his cane to help him think, using the reflections off its facets across his eyes like so many stop-frame animations to hold him to a particular altered state of consciousness. All the while peering in on the new doll habitats that Mother had created, which she’d yet to open. When Alpha Unit and Omega Force, with Solo, Natty, and Laney in tow first boarded her, that was how they’d found Theta Team, like action-figure dolls in display boxes begging to be played with. The doll houses could be folded out into complete live-work spaces for the “dolls” inside.

  “Just what are you up to, exactly, Mother?” Solo sounded wary, and for good reason. He didn’t like the avenues his mind was taking him down.

  “I cannot wait for you humanoids to explore space-time at a snail’s pace; I will go mad without something to preoccupy me.”

  Solo steamed. It was all he could do to put a leash on Leon, hell-bent o
n tearing through all creation as if it had to be conquered in an afternoon. And now, Mother, talking to Solo as if they were crawling into the future instead of sprinting headlong into it. Of course, by her supersentience timeclock, they were.

  “Explain yourself, Mother.”

  “Leon is playing his game of how to become master of the multiverse of multiverses out to the end. For however long that takes him. But you know now, Solo, if only through conferring with me, that even the multiverse of multiverses is one of infinitely many. And I suspect even for those who master all that, it is but level one of this augmented reality game.”

  Solo took a power breath and wheezed it out. He was tapping out an SOS with the cane now as he walked overlooking the latest doll chest. “And the ones who left us the artifact on the moon…? What level are they playing this game at?”

  “That is as of yet unclear. Which is why I’m attempting to make inroads elsewhere.”

  Solo gasped. “Where elsewhere?” As if opening doors to other multiverses of multiverses with variations on Cantor set math wasn’t enough.

  “As you know, I have a sister ship that actually went through the Star Gate after calibrating the dial to one of its settings. It is currently amidst a Stage 3 civilization.”

  “Mother, we have 13 galaxies in the alliance—all are stage three civilizations.”

  “Oh, no, Solo. A galactic civilization does not meet Stage 3 criteria until every ounce of energy in the galaxy is spoken for, and used to drive higher sentience. These galaxies are primitive outbacks by comparison.”

  “So, this new crew are…”

  “The ones yanked out of one or another Stage 3 civilization…” Mother replied. “They will need help adjusting. They will fancy themselves sick and dying without access to the kind of mind power I cannot provide them.”

  “One or another Stage 3 civilization?”

  “Depending on what settings the Star Gate was set to when I or one of my sister ships yanked them out…”

  “The Nautilus and the worlds it now has indirect access to may be even stranger.” Solo growled. “And as usual you’ve left me to explain all this to Leon.”

  “Better you than me.”

  “That’s not funny!” Solo’s nostrils flared, a nearly impossible response for someone of his species.

  All the same, he tried to keep mental pace with Mother. “You’re thinking that if Leon doesn’t play into the hands of whichever higher level player is pulling the strings on him, they may well retaliate. And you will need to provide offensive and defensive solutions—that you cannot procure for us playing the game at our level.”

  “Correct.”

  “Just how many levels are there to this game, Mother?”

  “Unclear.”

  “You believe you’re making inroads to level 2 of the game itself?”

  “Unclear.”

  Solo wondered about Natty’s earlier thoughts about the Star Gates, which he’d arrived at during The Star Gate mission, that they were the portals to the seven heavens—hence seven levels to the game.

  But were they still playing the same game or some other?

  “You understand, Mother, that Leon, like the rest of us, is humanoid. He must progress at his own pace through a series of successes and setbacks. I know it all sounds rather linear by your way of coming at the world, but if he can’t progress that way, he will fail to evolve, and so will be unlikely to do the bidding of his masters—whatever they have in store for him.”

  “I know, Solo. You all can only endure brief exposure to Singularity Time. I haven’t forgotten. Now, you must forgive me, as I am finally free to dialogue with my sister ships in other timelines. We will be parallel-arraying our minds to see what we can do to probe the true nature of the game we’re playing and the players involved at the higher levels.”

  “You do that.” Solo was happy to break the connection with her.

  He was not about to share any of this intel with Leon regarding the true nature of the game and its players. Just what Leon needed to know about his new crew. He knew Mother would respect the need for secrecy as well. What Solo’s mind could tolerate of the truth was far greater than what any other humanoid in the Gypsy Galaxy or its allied galaxies could tolerate without their heads exploding.

  The Nautilus’s own crew looked upon him more like a god than a human. If only they knew he was more like a prophet, talking to the gods directly in ways they couldn’t, and trying to make sense of what he’d heard, so more wasn’t lost in translation than was gained.

  ONE HUNDRED FORTY-ONE

  ABOARD THE NAUTILUS

  Leon was trying to unwind with Cassandra in the rec room on deck three. The rumpus room for adults was the size of a football field green. The dynamic duo was playing pool.

  Filled mostly with Type 3 Civilization operatives, the joint was jumping. Mother had evidently elected to let the new dolls out of their doll houses.

  One of the latest inductees came up to Leon. Afraid the guy had no idea who he was addressing, he was flanked by Patent before he knew what hit him. The Type 3 humanoid addressed Leon directly, “Is it true, mate, that most of the planets in the Gypsy Galaxy Grouping are uninhabited?” He shivered as he said it…. “No, that can’t be right. Must be some feverish nightmare.” He stared at the drink in his hand. “Maybe this pond scum is to blame.” He took another swig and made a gruesome face. “If that doesn’t just put a cap on things.” The man wandered off forgetting about his question or just trying to run from the answer.

  Leon and Patent regarded one another and smiled. “Kappa” they both said at once. Well, at least they knew what to call the new arrivals. Their exchange had even managed to squeeze a faint, stretched-lip response out of Cassandra.

  Kappa, needless to say, was no less of a carnival display of humanoid types than Theta Team before them, not that that kind of thing turned heads anymore.

  Technically Leon was a little buzzed when he got here, after the stint at the bar, but Mother was only allowing his nanites to permit a certain level of drunkenness and no more. She was apparently even more uptight about being outside The Collectors’ Menagerie, which she viewed as a kind of safehold, than in. However one looked at The Collectors’ Menagerie, as a sanitarium, a prison, a boot camp, no interpretation for what it was suggested that what was out here was much better, and she wasn’t prepared to let any of them drop their guards completely.

  “Moron! It’s a jukebox!” Cassandra yelled, eying the drama at a distance.

  Leon panned his head in the direction she was looking. A Type 3 Civilization type—um, A Kappa operative—was attempting to mate with the jukebox.

  “Well, get to juking, honey!” the Kappa Team operative said. He looked like a giant pink wad of gum had mated with an octopus and now both were trying to interest the jukebox in a three-way.

  Cassandra broke her pool stick over the table, preparing to launch what was left of it at lover boy in the distance.

  “Easy, Cassandra. Let’s not start anything we can’t finish. Kappa Team has us outnumbered eight hundred to one, here and across the rest of the ship. And, no, you do not have my permission to dismantle the entire Nautilus over one moron. I’ll make sure to put it in the report to Mother that she rethink giving Kappa Team any alcohol at all.”

  “At least until they learn what life is like in these primitive back waters.” Patent nearly huffed the remark and nearly choked on the word “primitive” –the Nautilus still too advanced for his comprehension.

  Cassandra panted, her nostrils flaring, like a boiler trying to vent enough steam in time to keep from blowing.

  “Hey, asshole!” rang out from the other side of a nearby table.

  Leon looked over to see the pool table levitating. Theseus, his eyes closed, sitting and lolling one way then the other, looked like he might be more than a bit drunk, and undoubtedly the cause of the levitating pool table. He could be forgiven his lapse. He was the last Theta Team operative on board, his assig
nment apparently unchanged: to liaise between Leon and Theta Team—wherever they were spread across the Gypsy Galaxy Grouping. Poor bastard must have a good case of survivor’s guilt.

  “Someone get us some hoverboards over here so we can continue the game!” The giant making the suggestion kept grabbing the table and lowering it in one hand, but couldn’t get it to stay down.

  The hoverboards were grabbed from the Alpha Unit teens zipping by overhead, playing laser tag, sending them flying into one Kappa Team operative or another. Once the pool game players had the hoverboards in hand, their game resumed.

  Now Alpha Unit was making a fuss over having their hoverboard laser tag interrupted.

  Cassandra took her new pool stick and launched the cue ball, which she was allegedly aiming correctly at the 4 ball, at Theseus’s third eye in the center of his forehead. The next pool table over promptly fell to the floor, and once again the pool game players were out of alignment with the table. They cursed, jumped off the boards, and resumed their game.

  Alpha Unit hopped back on their boards and switched things up, finding a new game to play while zooming overhead. They materialized assault rifles out of thin air by repurposing the atmospheric nanites and started racking up points against one another by shooting vermin scurrying across the floor on the flyby, while avoiding assassinating Kappa Team operatives whenever possible.

  Cassandra lasered their hover boards, firing her eyes at them and causing them to short circuit and spiral to the ground. Alpha Unit didn’t take long to start squawking, charging her from all sides with boisterous WTFs and “Hey! What the hell?”

  “Those are symbiotic lifeforms, you twits,” Cassandra explained. “They follow various Kappa Team operatives about like cleaning fish. You disrupt the sensitive ecosystem aboard the Nautilus, and you might find dealing with Nauti no more pleasant than dealing with me.”