Parallel Worlds- Equilibrium in Threat

by A I Zlato

  Paul went back into the house with empty bowls in his hands, which he put in the kitchen, and went to take a shower. Once ready, he went out and hopped on the kandron’s back. Contrary to its habits, Edgard decided to walk rather than fly. Its powerful hind legs swallowed a hundred yards at every step. The buildings, ridiculous from above, were scrolling, and roads became narrower and narrower, as they were getting close to the Machine. Paul looked down the boulevard that ran in a straight line up to the Tower; simultaneously arteries coming toward it and starting from it... a concept of cycle in a star structure... Boulevards that steered to the center crossed each circle. From both sides, streets in a half-moon that delimited the buildings... the circles inscribed in a star, bounded by a circle... Yes, the Machine was the center... both the cause and consequence of the circles... of the city... he then saw, while sitting on Edgard’s back, ruined buildings, equipment abandoned, as if they should not have existed. Destruction... it had already begun.

  Edgard crossed the city and headed for the mountains. Paul discovered sumptuous landscapes, which he did not know existed. White snow was made of small crystals that glittered in the light. The cold air of great purity burned his lungs. Around him, scattered dark- green firs stood out against the white coating of snow and ice. Silence reigned in this place, barely disturbed by Edgard’s pace. The animal soon stopped, covered by snow all the way to its chest. Paul dared not go down for fear of being buried. He lay curled up because of the cold, and waited. Torpor pervaded, and he realized that his body was numb. He rubbed his arm with his hands and wiggled his toes. This made him ill. He even remained curled up, trying to keep his body heat. This hostile environment was a perfect place for people seeking discretion.

  Out of nowhere, a Servant stood beside the kandron. Paul looked in the snow in search of footprints, but found none. The individual had suddenly materialized in front of him. Now that he knew it was an artificial being, not a person of flesh and blood, Paul observed the Servant as he had never done with its peers. No breath went out of its nostrils; no wrinkles marked a face that was absolutely smooth. Its impeccable hair did not tremble in the wind. It seemed undeniably human, nonetheless. Its eyes shone with intelligence, its movements perfectly simulating human behavior. So the Servant shifted its weight from one foot to the other, rubbing his arms against Paul, as if it were cold. But its skin, exempt from shivering, was contradicting this impression.

  Having finished his observation, Paul began the conversation. Unlike the Servant, he was shivering with cold, and was eager to know Anderson’s message as fast as possible, so he could return to the heat of the city.

  “Hello! I’m... I’m Paul. I am currently working on the diary kept by Thomas Anderson, your... your creator. I come to see you to know his message.”

  “It’s not for you to hear.”

  “I thought, well...”

  “You should not be here; 5th Hexa knows.”

  “5th Hexa?”

  “He does not know?” the Servant replied, turning to Edgard.

  Paul then heard the kandron speak for the first time in his life. In the crystalline air, it sounded strong and calm. He who had only understood the animal mentally and was surprised by the tone. It was not the one he thought the kandron had.

  “Not yet,” the kandron replied.

  “What is it that I don’t know?” Paul asked.

  “I’ll tell you later,” Edgard mentally replied. A little lost, Paul went back to the Servant.

  “I... I came here for the message.”

  “It is not for you. It is for the Machine.”

  “Can you talk to it directly?”

  “We can, but we do not want to. The risk of falling under its control is too great. We are of the same design.”

  “Which person do you want to talk to?”

  “We know who and when. And it’s not you.”

  Paul sighed. The Servant was siding with Edgard... the information they had to pass was not for him. But for another.

  “Who, then, is that person?”

  “You will perhaps know it, but that does not matter.”

  “You want to reach the Machine... but not directly... you need someone who has a chip... the most advanced possible. Is it that this just might be Baley?”

  “The message can have several messengers. I say again this is not for you.”

  “Good, but... What about me? And the Problem?”

  “We are programmed to counter the excesses of the Machine. The rest does not concern us.”

  “But... the Problem...”

  “The artificial handles the digital. The organic does not concern us.”

  “The message...”

  “I say again it is not for you.”

  Paul felt frustrated. Less than an hour earlier, he had woken up with a clear mind, convinced that he understood the basic concepts. Edgard had reassured him he was on the right path. Naturally, he turned to Anderson’s guardians, who now called themselves Servants — and they refused to answer. Edgard had warned him that it would be a waste of time. Yet he was convinced they had something to say. He had to find the right question. He resumed.

  “Why do you call yourselves Servants? Anderson referred to you as his guardians.”

  “Guardian is a generic term. We are Servants here.”

  “Here... do you have another name elsewhere... where else?”

  “Other spaces, of course.”

  “And do you know those other names?” Paul asked, hoping to be able to know the number of spaces.

  “That information would be of no use.”

  “Are you in touch with the other guardians? Do you act together?”

  “Each space has its own problems.”

  Paul was silent. He had just learned that Anderson had sent the guardians in each space... to avoid the excesses of each machine... likely to have the same behavior... the Equilibrium was the beginning of everything... He dared one last question.

  “Will you succeed in diverting the Machine properly?”

  “We will succeed, or we will be destroyed.”

  He tried another formulation. “What is the probability of success?”

  “50 percent.”

  “Can I improve it?”

  “According to 5th Hexa, yes.”

  It was the second time that this 5th Hexa was mentioned by the artificial being. Paul did not ask more accurately, as Edgard had promised him an explanation. What he caught was that he had the ability to promote success, and that was in parallel with the kandron’s remarks.

  A feeling of apprehension whose origin he could not tell prevented him from asking the Servant if he knew how he could act. He then thanked the creature, which disappeared into the snowy mist.

  Immediately, Edgard spread its wings and climbed out of the white coat that had frozen around it. The ice cracked under the impulse, freeing its rump. Edgard flew away and headed for the city. The mountains disappeared behind them — and with them, the cold. Despite the altitude, the temperature climbed up to enjoyable levels. Gradually, Paul regained sensation in his limbs, which started warming up. Tingling in his extremities, albeit unpleasant, signified that warm blood flowed back into his body.

  Feeling better, he asked Edgard, “Edgard? Can I ask you a question?”

  “You’ll do it anyway. Besides, I promised you an answer, so your question has no meaning.”

  “It’s a courtesy phrase. I know you do not understand, but... well. So, tell me this. Who is the 5th Hexa the Servant spoke about?”

  “I am.”

  “Who? You?”

  “I’m the fifth element of the Hexagon.”

  “5th Hexa? But why?”

  “How? Why? It’s my nature. The Hexagon has chosen me as much as I chose the Hexagon.”

  “Uh... so do you have five other kandrons with you?”

  “Of course.”

  “And other... uh... geometric shapes?”

  “Yes.”

  “I feel that if I ask
you why you are organized that way, I will not understand the answer.”

  “Probably.” Edgard continued, “There’s something else you should know. When the linearity of time is reversed, and the space is a dimension complementary of time... this is how kandrons are.”

  “The reverse linearity, you already told me, but what is it exactly?”

  “Your tomorrow is my yesterday.”

  “My... you’re telling me that you go back in time? That does not make sense. How, in that case, could you remember our conversation yesterday, if for you it is the future?”

  “I do not have the right to answer this question. Just know that it is possible.”

  “But why? No, no! Do not answer. I feel that the response is not for me to know.”

  “Your mind is clearer. You...”

  “Yes, 5th Hexa.”

  They both shut up, and Paul became absorbed in the contemplation of the landscape. On land, he could see in more detail the evolution of the constructions of one circle alongside another. The houses of the periphery, interspersed with gardens, were replaced by buildings that were higher and higher, and became compact and austere as they approached the center. For the first time, Paul compared the architectural layout of the city with an inverted cyclone, whose base would be on the ground. Its eye was the Tower; the Tower that rose into the sky, around which twisted concentric circles... houses of clouds. Where was this eye — a quiet area in a cyclone — going? Paul superimposed on this image the vortex of clouds in which he had seen a presence... circles and children... the presence and the Tower... a message as a symbol...

  The Problem was waiting for him.

  If the future is uncertain, know that the past is too. What you choose to remember and what you choose to forget is a form of manipulation of the past. The trick is to make these choices consciously. Otherwise, you are at the same level as a human.

  The Spirit of the Multitude

  CHAPTER 50

  PRE-E.S. ERA

  5th Hexa left Paul in front of his house. It was pleased with the new understanding that its friend displayed. The latter now feared correlations, combos and especially the role he had to play, even if he did not know how. Yet the kandron was worried because time was against them. Even if Paul decided to go his way, it was not sure that he would get results in time. And 5th Hexa’s joy was not as blatant as it could be. It flew away and joined the mountains again. It landed on the first layer of soft snow. It needed to think.

  It was raining. The low, dark sky dripped with cold water, which sprayed on vegetation and on the kandron. It felt these lines of water hurtling down on its back and its neck, and froze in contact with the ground. It saw the city in the distance, with the great, black needle, the Tower, which pierced the sky. It had wanted to get away to think, and now was tasting loneliness. It felt the bite of the cold rain and frozen ground. It looked intently at this city; those tiny structures doomed to disappear... and all if it failed. Paul... was there still time? The enthusiasm it had felt that morning by talking to him disappeared completely. The coldness of the rain had dampened its optimism. Morose, it thought about the plan of its competitor in the Spirit of the Multitude.

  The hybrid... this half-human had proposed to the community of the lake to take kandrons along. Humans were thinking... If they agreed, that was the end of its solution for spaces. A non-evolution... that was it... the departure into space. Nothing would change their linearity... and kandrons would be heading toward nothingness... Would they take the shuttle with them? It knew that the Spirit of the Multitude did not share its views. To its peers, the idea of departure into space was a good solution, especially as it became more and more real. It had seen, like any other, the images through the memories of the Circle. A planet, a double star... the black hull of a craft... It did not want to leave. There was Albana, certainly, but... there was also everything else. It was deeply attached to this planet. It liked to feel its touch under its feet, see oceans and continents, and smell the perfumes of the air... It did not want to leave all this; it was part of this world.

  The frozen water accumulated on its feet until it became a cold and translucent cocoon. The wind lifted the snow that was still stuck to the floor, covering its icy prison. Numb, the kandron shivered in this hostile environment where only a few stunted firs and small animals survived. It remained there, encased in ice, staring into space.

  Since the day 7th Hepta introduced Edgard to the cave of Servants, it would come back regularly, near their refuge. It had accompanied Paul there that day, but without showing him the entrance. The Heptagon would not have let it do such a thing anyway. Servants jealously guarded their refuge, which they had designed so that it would be invisible to the city. Too far from the Machine for anyone with a chip, and too short for all the others. Who could have the idea of crossing a plain, hills covered in a compact area of the Unique Forest, and then climb a mountain before descending into this tunnel? Servants generally got here by circuitous routes, making sure that nobody was following them... not even the Machine.

  Invisible to it and insignificant to humans, this place was known only to the Heptagon. With this structure, 5th Hexa had discovered the treasures contained in the cave. The remains buried in the metal cube were perhaps the stigma mentioned by Anderson, the creator of Servants... and of whom Paul was so passionate. The Earliest Space, why not? There was no absolute certainty about this.

  Snow began to fall, first a few scattered flakes, then a thick curtain of crystals. In the white mist, six kandrons of the Heptagon materialized beside Edgard. Arranged in a specific order, they had placed 5th Hexa in second place... as if it had integrated their group. That was, however, not the case. Edgard was still part of the Hexagon. The Hexagon... that welcomed Edgard after it had emerged from nothingness... Albana... Only its memories connected it with this structure. It was talking to those it still saw as its siblings. It regularly spoke about Paul to Faress, its soulmate. Together they had worked in secret to boost readiness on a gateway in order to contact the kandrons. And it worked. But it had returned, alone this time, acting on Paul’s subconscious mind. Its siblings, once warned, had demonstrated solidarity in keeping it; protecting it. Like Faress, though, the Hexagon did not believe in its solution to save spaces. The Heptagon did. Yet it had to remain the fifth element of the Hexagon to maintain its relationship with Paul. As the latter had not fulfilled its destiny, it could not abandon him. It thus would still stay there, while dreaming of the Heptagon. One day, perhaps, if it succeeded...

  Surrounded by all six kandrons, 5th Hexa felt comfortable. In the snow that was burying them gradually, they stood together in the structure they were drawing physically, and that they were mentally feeling. The Heptagon... another world... Its members had managed a tour de force, making the Spirit of the Multitude blind to some of their actions. They even managed to hide the death of 2nd Hepta, which committed suicide, as Albana did. The death of 1st Hexa resounded throughout the Spirit, the Hexagon had a gaping hole... all had known and experienced it through them. The death of the second Hepta had remained secret within its structure. They had contained their grief, and still maintained the stability of the group. The S. of M. had not suspected anything. The Heptagon’s memories appeared continuous in the collective memory; no clues, no fault — not even tiny ones — were visible. The Heptagon... they were more powerful as a group of six than the Spirit of the Multitude itself. The implications... 5th Hexa could only sense them for now. Once it was ready, the Heptagon would welcome it. Edgard would then have access to their collective memory, which they had isolated... It would see Servants much better... their origins... why they had carefully guarded the remains of the Elders... Answers to all its questions existed... it knew that... 7th Hepta told it so... The bits that the Heptagon had shown it were pieces of a whole that it hoped to gather one day, and that was to remain secret, including the wreckage of the spacecraft. At first, uncomfortable to hide an item of this importance, it had graduall
y managed to divide its life into two watertight compartments. On the one hand, there was 5th Hexa’s life with Paul, whereby it opened its memory fully to the Spirit of the Multitude. On the other, there was its future life 2nd Hepta, where it remained hidden from the kandron community, communicating only with other members of the Heptagon. Two autonomous lives, two memories, two radically different connections to the Spirit... it felt duplicate. Would it be able to maintain these barriers? And more importantly, would it lose its personality in such duplication? Sometimes it wandered on the edge between two worlds. Who was it exactly?

  The kandrons of the Heptagon still surrounded Edgard, their legs firmly anchored in the ice, covered with the snow falling thickly. They supported 5th Hexa... and believed in its solution. The latter was priceless.

  The Spirit of the Multitude was calling... it was calling 5th Hexa. It locked the part of its mind dedicated to the Heptagon, and flew into its favorite park. It could not represent the Hexagon in the mountains, surrounded by the Heptagon... it had to go. A few minutes later, 5th Hexa landed on the sunlit lawn in the park. The rock it had scratched was still there but smaller. Pieces of granite lying on the ground had been picked up, probably after its departure. The rock had even been recut to give it a harmonious shape. Nothing indicated what had happened, except the memory... Edgard’s, and that of the humans who had walked through the park. It sat at the foot of a tree called a jambosier. It sat down, wrapping its tail around, loosening its muscles in a comfortable position. It held out its mind — that of the Hexagon — to the consciences of the others, and logged in. The space had just had a meeting with the others, so the Spirit had felt. When the linearity of time was reversed, and that space was a dimension complementary of time... so were the kandrons... it had told Paul... Yes, so they were for now.

  It felt the presence of 3rd Hepta in the meeting, the representative of the Heptagon. It easily imagined 3rd Hepta, with its relaxed body — wings touching the snow, away from its body — and unaware of the cold. The others were certainly closer to it, warming it up while it was out of its body. In the mountains, under the snow, legs planted in the cracking ice, and... Edgard caught itself just in time. It could not, should not be with them at this time. It felt 3rd Hepta rejecting it gently, invisibly to the Spirit of the Multitude. He was 5th Hexa... and nothing else. It cleared up its mind, and focused.