Parallel Worlds- Equilibrium in Threat

by A I Zlato

  “Those two, they were always together. Yet I tried to differentiate them — dress them differently in the morning — so that they saw themselves as two separate persons, but nothing worked. As soon as they were able to dress themselves, one of them would always change his clothes so he could be like his brother.

  We then sent them to two different schools so they would lead separate lives. We could keep up for one week. Alexis ran away to join his brother. Once, he got lost and a local shopkeeper brought him back to me... So we put them in the same school. They were so happy together again!”

  Anne sighed and clenched her fists to find strength, before continuing.

  “It is true that physically they were as similar as two drops of water, but each had his own character. Everyone confused them, and each would answer to both Alexis and Cyril, to maintain the confusion. This amused them very much. Roger and I, however, knew... we always knew the difference. They were not at all of the same personality. Alexis is... was... and now, now they were both...” Anne could not finish her sentence, choked by sobs.

  “I do not realize this yet,” Roger continued his wife’s account. “In the evening, when I got home, I thought for half a second they would jump into my arms and scream in the living room, making us go crazy, their mother and me... but I guess you heard it dozens of times. Why bother telling you all this?”

  Baley did not answer. What could she have said? She silently prompted Roger to resume.

  “Our boys... they were our whole life. I don’t know how we managed to live until today without them... I...”

  Anne took over from her husband.

  “You know, we are among those who criticize your action. Your investigation brought you to this sect, and you put those children in safety. Even if the approach has not solved the Problem, at least you did something.”

  “You did the right thing!” Roger went on. “We should go further and remove all children, whatever their age! And exclude those crazy believers from the city! Send them to the Unique Forest or to the mountains so they can enjoy life as they wish! Without technology, without the Machine, without...”

  “Thank you for your support,” said Baley. “I appreciate it, especially knowing what happened to you...

  I won’t pretend I understand your pain. I thought at the beginning of the investigation that I could put myself in the parents’ shoes, but that is not possible; I do not have any idea of the hell in which you are currently living. I cannot bring your children back, but I will do everything to stop the Problem once and for all. I’m going to have to ask you questions about your children that are definitely unpleasant.”

  “We understand. Go ahead,” Roger replied.

  “How would you describe Alexis and Cyril? Had you noticed any recent changes in their behavior?”

  “It is... it was...” Anne began. “They were two children full of life, very dynamic and even a little too much at times. Friends surrounded them, and there was not a weekend without friends coming home. There was not a...”

  Roger continued, “They had a vivid imagination for nonsense, but they were average students in class, because they liked the subjects that the Machine had chosen for them. They were normal young boys.”

  “Yes,” said Anne. “There was one thing, though. There were two or three weeks when they were reclusive and a bit depressive, but they have felt like that before. The last time, their depression lasted longer than usual. You know, they are twins; they have their world. They even invented a language that only they could understand. They used it to chronicle their adventures on a tablet.”

  “Do you have this tablet? Perhaps it contains information about their motives. At least, I mean...” said Baley.

  “I see what you mean. I’ll go and get it,” Anne replied.

  With difficulty, she rose from the couch and disappeared into a hallway.

  “Roger, I apologize beforehand for this question, but I must ask you if you share the Chrijulam belief, and if you think the Machine is not a blessing for the city?”

  “I understand your question, and I do not take offense. No, we’re not part of that movement, and we cannot imagine life without the Machine... Those beliefs... Yet I only know what the news media are saying... I’m sure journalists have not said everything so as to avoid upsetting believers... and also prevent them from getting lynched by the rest of the population! No, we do not share, even remotely, the convictions of those crazies.”

  “I had to ask you. Thank you for your response, and thank you especially for not being offended.”

  For all his sadness, Roger found the courage to be friendly with Baley, and she admired him for it. They waited in silence for Anne. She returned with a digital plate in her hands.

  “I will need to translate this for you,” said Anne, “because it is written in their language — Alexril, as they called it... They believe...d they were the only ones to understand it, but with practice, I could also get used to it.”

  “It’s very kind of you,” Baley replied. “If it is not too much to ask, I would like you to browse through what they wrote last month. Tell me if you find anything abnormal or unusual.”

  Anne scrolled through digital pages of the tablet and started reading, often stopping to wipe tears. She smiled at some passages, shaking her head, and frowned at other sections... The lives of her children were chronicled in front of her. A few pages before the end, her face changed color:

  “There... there... Something is not normal.” “What is it about?” Roger and Baley said together.

  “Look! The writing has changed, and words, words...

  Alexis said that the Machine is a monster that will eat us all. Then there were lines and lines of the same phrases — ‘We must break the circles.’ ‘The Equilibrium is the beginning and the end; there is no longer a middle.’ ”

  “What, in your opinion, does that mean, Special Agent?” Roger asked.

  “I cannot answer that yet. Before I say anything, I have to ask other parents to confirm my hypothesis.”

  “Tell us at least what is your assumption please.”

  “I have no opinion yet on those repeated sentences; however, the fact that your son describes the Machine as a monster...”

  “I assure you we are not followers of the sect... the one with an unpronounceable name... well, that against which you have acted!” Roger said.

  “I believe you, I assure you. Nonetheless, it is clear that your children did not seem to share your loyalty toward the Tower. I think there is a huge anti-Machine movement existing in the city, which included members of Chrijulam, but not only them...”

  “But why die? They could have... I don’t know... done something... strike the school... We were all rebels in adolescence, but we did not choose this kind of end... This radical end is... I cannot believe my boys are gone... have left us... have decided to die... just a child revolt! Why? Why?” Anne could barely breathe.

  “Perhaps the chip had prevented them from doing the unthinkable; pondering anti-Machine things triggers a migraine... that prevents one from thinking...”

  “C’mon! The chip is there to increase our capacity, open us up to knowledge, we... Obviously, thinking... about... yes, it generates excruciating headaches... so what?”

  “I told you I do not know it all; I still need to validate my assumptions... maybe... the fear of the Machine in addition to the pain...”

  “So you are telling me that the Machine killed my children, rather than letting them express any dissatisfaction?” Roger said, fuming.

  Baley felt that she was losing control.

  “I did not say that... I did not want to share my hypothesis with you in order for you to avoid all these conjectures. I just noticed that your children issued anti-Machine ideas just before dying, and that perhaps that posture led to pressure to commit the irreparable. Perhaps they had been in contact with Chrijulam crazies, who exploited their fear... At this stage of my investigation, I really cannot say anything with cer
tainty. Please, I need you to get this idea out of your head, and let me work. I understand your need for answers, but I still have to investigate to find the truth.”

  Anne took her husband’s arm and squeezed it hard to calm him. Roger stiffened to the contact and shut up.

  “But we... we love the Machine; we faithfully serve it, Special Agent... Why would our children embark on such madness? These sentences, ‘The Equilibrium is the beginning and the end; there is no longer a middle, we must break the circles’ — what can all of that mean? Were they recruited by another sect, one that you have not yet found? They could not have invented those horrible words by themselves!” Anne observed.

  “I have no answers to give you. I’m sorry,” said Baley. “I am going to continue my discussions with other parents. I promise to keep you personally informed.”

  “I had thought, I don’t know, when I got your message... One believes that he or she has hit rock bottom; that nothing could be worse... but actually it could; it can always be worse. I lost my children. Now I know that the Machine may be... and I cannot even think about it, because my chip forbids me to do so! And I cannot imagine life without the Machine!”

  Roger clenched his fists to contain his emotions, but without success. Anne snuggled against him to unite in grief; to hold on.

  Baley left their apartment, filled with a sense of unease. The boys’ sentences, dark as they were, kept echoing in her head. How could 12-year-old boys formulate such abstruse concepts? What significance did those concepts hold for them, even if they did not represent anything for her? These sentences... it looked like Paul’s delirium when she had seen him last... what was he talking about again? The Equilibrium and the Elders’ dream... Iris spoke about the hidden agenda of the Machine... Lars had mentioned changes in hardware, apparently initiated by no one... and she, herself, had seen or thought she had seen a structure of a pioneering area... and now children writing about the Equilibrium... speaking of breaking circles and drawing with their bodies... all clues connected to the Machine. That was not surprising, given that the city was built around it; it was a guarantee for the survival of humanity. Was that really the case?

  She should continue, and meet other families. She went to see each of them, entering their apartments, and seeing them surrounded by the emptiness caused by the loss of their children.

  In each family, she posed similar questions. Some children had kept diaries; others had drawn or had recorded things. Baley inquired about everything. She wondered why in previous interviews no one had mentioned the existence of those writings. Parents, with all their pain, had certainly not thought to mention those facts. Was that credible? Maybe only the children of the latter Problem, whose parents she was interrogating that day, kept such books? In that case, why did they do it — while the others did not?

  Each time, she found, five days before the suicide, a radical change in the child’s attitude, suddenly expressing a fierce rejection of the Machine. A 13-year-old girl had drawn the Tower as a monster, with a huge mouth full of teeth, trying to swallow humans. Around it, she represented a group of children pointing their fingers in its direction. Things could not be clearer. A little boy, who had just celebrated his 11th birthday, had saturated his personal terminal with the same phrases the twins wrote down, which represented thousands of copies of the same words... How long did it take him to write all those lines? The boy’s mother, who raised her son alone, did not foresee the significance of those words. Above all, she had no memory of seeing her son spend more time than usual on his terminal. Those children had not all attended the same school, and had not had the same activities. Their parents did not know each other. It was as if each child had suddenly led a parallel life right under the noses of his or her parents. The only trace of a change lay in their drawings or their writings, which they had carefully hidden.

  If the hypothesis of an anti-Machine movement was confirmed, there were nevertheless four major problems with it. She wondered how the children recognized each other in order to implement their collective suicide. On the other hand, she could not understand what had triggered this sudden, home-grown rejection of the Machine. What had happened in their lives five days before their collective action? Then how could one be anti-Machine? To rebel against one’s parents and against establishment was in the order of things — but to be fiercely opposed to the essence of the city! Without the Machine, there was no Equilibrium; harmony in the city would only be a distant memory... Finally, Baley wondered what the link to the cyclone was. How could children choose their place of suicide while centering it on this weather phenomenon? Was the cyclone the trigger factor?

  It was necessary to be pragmatic and deal with one problem at a time. First, she had to find the mode of dissemination of such ideas among children, and then identify potential targets. Time was short.

  For a group to exist as such, two characteristics are essential. First, group members must acknowledge common traits in one another. Second, it is necessary to have differences with the rest of the world, and to exacerbate those differences. A group is a notion of membership and exclusion. Without these two aspects, it has no existence.

  The Spirit of the Multitude

  CHAPTER 45

  SPACE H. (OUTSIDE CIRCLE)

  From this side of the Unique Forest, among trees and the lake water, life continued its course — in appearance only. For generations, the common goal was to build a spacecraft large enough to contain a thousand humans and strong enough to take them to their destination — a new planet for humans. This joint project was never questioned; it was a shared hope. In every generation, construction progressed, and each worker toiled at his or her post. All this was before Mossa came onto the scene. With the arrival of the hybrid, Egeon had seen an unseen force advance into the community; a powerful religious spirit of fervor, obliterating the minds of those affected. After the hybrid had learned to speak, thanks to a kandron, Egeon had hoped that his words would remove the aura of sacredness he had; that his community would see in him a strange boy, yes, but just a human being. That did not happen. The fact that a kandron was interested in him, given that these animals never approached humans on this side of the forest, left a strong impression on the community. For believers, it was proof that he was the awaited Prophet. Only the Messiah could draw to himself a creature as inaccessible as a kandron. Many peered at the sky, trying to see Eutrope, the deep-green kandron. Whenever it came to see Mossa, that trip reinforced the faith of the community of believers. When it did not come, believers would still maintain unwavering conviction. Whenever Mossa spoke, his words were interpreted as necessarily part of the Prophecy. And when he was not talking, it was the same. Egeon faced a faith that was self-maintained and amplified autonomously, without external reason... fueled by minds who were desperate to believe. Stability in the community was disrupted through these circumstances. Although the project progressed well, there was a palpable flutter in all teams; some ambitions diminished, diverted away from the shuttle project and toward Mossa.

  Despite this, Egeon tried somehow to continue his supervision of the shuttle work; to move the project forward somehow. He carried as a burden the weight of dozens of his predecessors who had worked on something that they knew they would not see to the end. He felt responsible for this legacy and would always do everything to respect it, and looked forward to having the honor of finishing the vessel.

  And he continued relentlessly, trying to counteract the evil influence of Mossa. He went as usual to see Teo for the construction process, Galatea for the determination of the destination planet, Alea for the training of future shuttle generations. In all his activities, however, Mossa now hounded him. Instead of focusing on what Egeon said — on his instructions — the teams looked up to the hybrid with a mixture of respect and expectation. Instead of meeting face-to-face with department heads, as Egeon did, the hybrid always found himself surrounded by a dozen onlookers, watching the slightest word coming out of his mouth. M
ost of the time, the hybrid said nothing but watched intently. Egeon was uncomfortable to have him constantly around without knowing what kind of intelligence he was gathering. Most people considered it normal to see him everywhere on the site, seeing it as a sign of the interest their Messiah found in their jobs. As for Egeon, in addition to the inconvenience that Mossa’s presence caused, he wondered about his true motives. Why was he so determined to follow him wherever Egeon went? What if his electronic circuits put him in direct contact with the Machine, as did all chips that city people wore? What if he were passing all project data over to the Machine? Egeon, in his worst nightmares, saw an all-powerful army of the city landing nearby to destroy their shuttle and take all the community by force back to ‘civilization’. He had absolutely no trust in this stranger, especially in his second artificial skin. He felt like hanging around a sort of spy for the Machine. There was no objective reason to think that, just his instinct, which was warning him about a near danger, about imminent disaster.

  He had asked Mossa about it, asking him first indirectly, then directly. He wanted the hybrid to clarify his intentions, the goals he pursued, the connections his electronic circuits could create with the Machine. The young man had taken refuge in a stubborn silence, refusing Egeon any form of dialogue on these issues. Galatea reassured her husband, saying that Mossa had no interest in contacting the Machine, and that he seemed happy with them... What really did she know? She was also a believer. Although she denied it, Egeon suspected that, if she did not believe it, at least she hoped that Mossa was the Messiah heralded in legends. She wanted to believe that the hybrid was feeling comfortable in the community. Was that really the case? Egeon’s distrust grew day by day. Mossa had stated what Egeon understood perfectly — that he wanted to go back home. What if the Machine could help? After all, it usually would make a request for additional space whenever it was necessary. It was not absurd to think that the Machine had the means to contact other spaces. It would then be normal for Mossa to contact it... And if he did, he could share with the latter, in exchange for its help, all information about the shuttle project he would have learned in this place.