A Spacetime Tale

by J. Benjamin

  “If the unknowns don’t respond, you’ll wake up back on Earth, safe and sound, and then back to your day jobs.”

  “I actually have a question piggybacking off Kiara’s,” Matt said. “What if they do pick up? What if they see our communications and not only answer, but turn out to be hostile and try to cut off communication to Earth. That could kill us.”

  “It’s a risk. Not gonna lie. That’s why we created a comprehensive training regimen for all three of you. You’ll be subjected to the rigors of our local dream world to test your mental fortitude before we send you out into the wilderness.”

  “That’s a relief,” Kiara said.

  “When do we begin this training regime?” Matt asked.

  “Tomorrow morning,” Dr. Srivastava said. “So, if I were you, I would rest up tonight, or not. Choice is yours. Technically you’ll be resting during the exercise.”

  10

  December 5, 2081 - Ambergris Caye, Belize

  Manuel watched as the bright turquoise waves crashed along the white sand of the picturesque Caribbean island. There weren’t many people in this area, so he was less likely to be discovered. However, it wasn’t so barren that his lime-colored beach house wouldn’t appear out of place. Discretion was a delicate balance that Manuel long figured how to hack.

  For the most wanted man on Earth, getting spotted by a neighbor was the least of his worries. It was the satellites above with face-detecting precision that concerned him more. Whenever Manuel left his house, he wore a nano-polymer mask to disguise his identity. It was realistic enough to fool even the closest observer into thinking he was someone else. Manuel also considered that GSF knew this. Therefore, he rotated three masks to keep any potential spies guessing.

  He walked around the small house to check his rainwater collector. It was three-quarters full, enough to last a week. The solar panels on his roof were eighty-five percent operational. One array was cracked from a storm that flung debris into it the previous week.

  After finishing his daily house checklist, he went to check the automated fishing rod planted at the shore. To his surprise, a twenty-pound grouper greeted him. He unlatched the fresh catch and took it inside to put on ice. It would make for several delicious meals.

  Manuel looked at his century-and-a-half-old Rolex, a gift from his financier. It was also a constant reminder that he had to go analog with non-electronic technologies to stay undetected. There was unfinished business to attend to.

  The small house consisted of his main living area complete with a pullout couch, a kitchen, and Guy Harvey paintings of various tropical fish species. In his living studio, he walked to a wall panel that, at first glance, appeared like all the others. Manuel knocked on the board twice, and it shifted open like an automatic door.

  On the other side of the panel was a small room dedicated to working his day job, running the world’s most notorious terrorist organization. The tiny space was covered in notes with everything from the names of co-conspirators to plans for potential attacks. The room is also where Manuel stored his sacred ledger, with the carefully detailed financial information of his little empire.

  Manuel carefully removed his mask and stored it in the cooling unit beneath his desk alongside the other two disguises. He brushed his jet-black hair and set a camera at the head of his table. For what he was about to do, he wanted his real face visible. Manuel set the camera to record and began talking.

  “Hello, my friends,” Manuel said. “I am Manuel Carter of Terra Rebirth. Today I am proud to report that we struck a decisive blow against the neocolonial monsters known as the Global Space Federation. Their blood flows like a river through the streets of Johannesburg as the authorities continue to stack the bodies.

  “Their Chief Executioner Katelyn Lew, the one who watches over the guillotine where logic and reason go to die, wants the world to see me as a terrorist. That’s the label they’ve attached to me. Through their forked tongues, they mark Terra Rebirth like a branded cow with terms like ‘radical insurgency.’ Perhaps we are, but it was they who have redefined what that word means. It is the Global Space Federation which has shifted the Overton Window so far away from sanity.

  “Their propaganda serves to condition the human mind into accepting worldwide surveillance and the militarization of space. GSF normalizes the creation of weapons that could atomize civilization in ways we have not witnessed since humanity’s third cull. GSF controls our skies, controls our cities, and does all of it under the ruse of a faux-representative democracy. It’s all a facade, just like Katelyn Lew’s attempts to hide her senility.”

  * * *

  Back at Sally Ride City, Secretary-General Lew and Defense Secretary Adler watched the feed from the situation room. Nobody else was present.

  “Hear us now!” Manuel’s voice bellowed like a battle cry. “We aren’t finished. Hell no! This is just the beginning! You heard us after Calgary and Dubai! Now you hear us after Johannesburg. When you hear from us again…”

  “Get this shit out of my sight,” the secretary-general demanded. The hologram promptly cut-off. “Why is this sonofabitch not dead yet?”

  “We have suspected for some time now that Carter is getting financial help from a well-heeled benefactor,” Thomas said. “One that operates on the black market and is impossible to trace.”

  “Gee, that much is obvious,” Katelyn said.

  “Kate, I didn’t bring you to the Sit room just to show you the Carter tape. I’ve uncovered some startling information that you need to see. It might be a huge break in tracking Carter and bringing him to justice,” Thomas said.

  “Tell me,” Katelyn said.

  “Intelligence managed to track the IPv10 address that submitted this video. Naturally, it gave us no clue as to Carter’s whereabouts. That would be foolish. Carter knows better.”

  “What good does an IPv10 address do us if it’s just a bounced signal sent from another bounced signal? For all you know, it’s probably some public server in the Netherlands.”

  “No doubt. That’s when we tried a little experiment. A honeypot if you will,” Thomas said.

  “Honeypot?” Katelyn asked.

  “Correct, Madam Secretary-General. We created a cache of hidden files with poor encryption and stored it in a GSF database. Basically, a ton of receipts for Space Force personnel. Lunch money, hotel bills, and financial reports from expired accounts. Something that would definitely grab the attention of bad actors, but once they found it…”

  “You don’t think Carter thought that one through?” Katelyn said.

  “That’s what we thought. Then we realized that wealth benefactor not-withstanding, Carter has a far weaker operation than it seems. He’s pinching pennies. He’s limited in who he can safely trust. So that increases the potential for human error.”

  “They’re getting sloppy.”

  “Bingo. Sure enough, ten hackers managed to fall for the old honeypot trap. I ordered our forensic cybercrime technicians to do an analysis of all the hackers against other GSF systems. One managed to infiltrate several different subsystems, including the mainframe of the Jellyfish, Sally Ride City, and our GSF bio-research facility in the United Arab Emirates. The same facility that produces the incredibly dangerous bioweapon known as daemonide. After leaving his digital footprints everywhere, we determined it’s the same IP address as the one on Carter’s video,” Thomas said.

  “We’ve known for some time that he has access to our top secret intelligence.”

  “I’m afraid it’s worse than that,” Thomas said. “Carter’s people knew what they were doing when they stormed the Dubai facility because they had the blueprints. They had every resource necessary to sneak in undetected and steal one of our most dangerous weapons to use against us. Whoever was capable of such an operation, clearly has incredible resources to inflict catastrophic damage to the GSF.”

  “The two big questions are who and why?” Katelyn said. “Is it an oligarch? Rival government? Corporate entity?
Could it be internal sabotage?”

  “Don’t know. We are working around the clock to find out,” Thomas said. “In the meantime, we need to be ever more vigilant. We will find these criminals and bring them to justice.”

  11

  Guion Bluford Spaceport

  Kiara, Matt, and Leon entered the dream net training deck with Dr. Srivastava leading the way. White bunny suits adorned them from head to toe. The nanofibers in their new clothes uniquely conformed to their bodies and felt comfortable to the touch. That was the intention. It was for the gammanauts to feel as relaxed as possible for what they were engaging in.

  “So, let’s run through the process again,” the youthful doctor told his three subjects. “You stand in one of the three levitation pods. The superconductors will quantum-lock with the pods. Don’t worry, it’s harmless.”

  “Good to know,” Kiara quipped.

  “From there, you’ll strap the hanging connection sets over your heads. I’ll administer ten ccs of a highly-potent neuroserum to each of you. It is a flood of micro-bots that will fill your bloodstream, coat your brains, and make possible the immersive experience that will place your minds within the artificial confines of the dream net environment which we have created.”

  “How promptly will we feel it?” Kiara asked.

  “The effects of the solution will hit you within seconds. Once you are inside the sequence, you’ll be unconscious and in a quasi-dream state. Of course, you won’t know what’s happening on the outside world, but you’ll be in control of your consciousness within the sequence,” Dr. Srivastava said. “Lastly. I’d be lying if I said this exercise would prepare you for what you will see on the other side of the spacetime bridge. It won’t. Nothing will. So, we will prepare you as best we can so that you have as much control in the sequence as possible. Any other questions?”

  “Not for me,” Matt said. “I’m ready to do this.”

  “Ditto,” Kiara lied. She felt incredibly not-ready for the entire thing.

  “Make that three,” Leon also lied.

  “Great to hear. I love the enthusiasm,” Dr. Srivastava said. “Then, if there are no objections, let’s begin. Shall we? Please. Stand on the pods.”

  Kiara proceeded to the pod on the left while Leon took the center and Matt the one on the right. They were round purple rims that raised five inches off the ground. The three ‘gammanauts’ stood on their respective platforms.

  “Deploy headsets,” Dr. Srivastava said. Three headsets with retractable metal cables descended from the ceiling until they were at face level. Kiara grabbed her headset, which resembled the virtual-reality visors of yesteryear. It was a black metal band with blue lights running through it. Kiara adjusted the length and put it over her head.

  Kiara was now looking into what felt like a grand theater. A blue backdrop with white letters spelled the words ‘PLEASE STANDBY.’ Kiara couldn’t hear Matt and Leon snapping on their helmets due to the sound-blocking strength of the helmet. Though she definitely heard Dr. Srivastava’s voice through the speaker system within the headset.

  “These headsets are to shut out all outside distractions while you’re in the dream net. Can’t risk those, especially with this high a neuroserum dosage. It could compromise the mission, and more importantly, your safety. The headsets will monitor your brain activity and communicate with the nanites that are about to fill your heads. Now, give me a thumbs up when you are ready for levitation.”

  Kiara didn’t hesitate. She gave two thumbs up.

  “Alright,” Dr. Srivastava said. “Everybody is ready. Perfect. Quantum-locking on!”

  Kiara felt herself softly floating into the air by the powerful forces of the pod interacting with her jumpsuit. It was a strange feeling as it felt like her body was naturally flying on its own. Though she was only four feet off the ground, she felt like she could have been floating four hundred feet up.

  “Whoa!” Kiara said.

  “Don’t you worry, Dr. Lacroix,” Dr. Srivastava said. “If anything were to happen, we’d abort the sequence immediately. You are in good hands.”

  “That’s reassuring,” Kiara replied.

  “Good. Now then. When you are ready, I will administer the ten ccs of neuroserum.”

  Kiara nodded.

  “Okay. Captain Ashford. You will go first.”

  Kiara waited patiently for what felt like a few minutes. Though she presented herself as being calm, her mind was racing, thoughts cascading with the reality of what was about to happen. Was Kiara really ready for this? She knew the training would be a walk in the park compared to the real thing, but still, it felt like she was about to step into a Mach-8 jet. No pressure, she reminded herself.

  “Alright, Dr. Lacroix. Your turn now,” Dr. Srivastava said. “You ready?”

  Hell no!

  “I’m ready. Let’s do this,” Kiara said, instead.

  “Okay. Hold still. You will feel some general discomfort on your left arm.”

  “No worries. Do it.” After fifteen seconds, Kiara felt a needle pierce through the nanofiber of her jumpsuit and into her flesh. It was slightly irritating, but within a few seconds, she was over it. “That wasn’t so bad,” Kiara said.

  “You’re doing great, Dr. Lacroix.”

  “Thank you.” She looked ahead at the screen. Everything seemed normal. The words ‘PLEASE STANDBY’ were still there. The white letters against a blue background reminded Kiara of the century-spanning show, Jeopardy! After a minute of pure silence, Kiara now started to wonder if the neuroserum was working.

  Then she noticed something. The letters no longer spelled ‘PLEASE STANDBY.’ Now they read, ‘BRACE FOR EJECTION’” Kiara was a bit perplexed that Dr. Srivastava would submit such a message like that. It didn’t seem like his style. That is unless he didn’t write that, and she was hallucinating. Something else seemed off about the letters. They were moving.

  No. The letters were stretching. They moved downward. No! They were melting! Literally, the letters were melting off the screen. Except they weren’t just melting off the screen. The screen itself was melting too.

  “Dr. Srivastava. Help! I think the headset’s malfunctioning!” Nobody could hear her.

  Kiara looked down and could see her entire self. She was in an open void. There was no floor, no ceiling, no anything. It was just pitch black in all directions. Except it wasn’t just that either. It was a night sky that spanned eternity.

  “Why did I sign up for this?”

  Without warning, Kiara’s stomach flew into her ribs. She dropped like a brick.

  12

  Kiara hit a cold, grate-like surface with a loud thud. At least it felt like a grate. The pain was searing for only two seconds. Then it mysteriously disappeared. In fact, Kiara felt nothing at all. She lifted herself up.

  Kiara looked up. Matt stood in front of her. He appeared equally perplexed by their situation. They were standing on a twenty-by-twenty metal platform that was just floating in the dark night sky. The platform itself had a three-feet high railing around it. Their environment wasn’t completely black, as the twilight of the stars allowed for some illumination.

  “Matt,” Kiara nodded.

  “Kiara,” Matt nodded back.

  Their brief encounter was disrupted by Dr. Esposito as he landed directly between them. They reflexively jumped back a step, Kiara gasping. Leon stood up and shook off the fall. He turned to his team members.

  “Nice to see you too,” Kiara said.

  “Where are we?” Leon asked.

  “This has to be the first stage,” Kiara replied. She walked around the perimeter of their floating platform and peered at the world beyond. There was no end in sight. They floated in an endless, dark sky.

  “This is the first stage,” Matt said. “It has to be if all three of us are standing here together.”

  “So, what was that weird transition between putting the headsets on and ending up here?” Leon asked.

  “Oh, that,” Matt said.
“That was the cliff.”

  “The cliff?”

  “The cliff,” Kiara interjected. “That’s the hallucinogenic reaction of your brain as your consciousness adjusts to being digitized. It’s like the loading screen on those old video games. The fancier the graphics and higher the complexity of the world…”

  “The longer it will take to load,” Leon said.

  “Yeah. And this virtual environment is localhost and not connected to the greater dream net. So, the loading time was thirty seconds. That’s long for localhost. And this virtual environment is way more sophisticated than others. I expect when we go through the real thing, it will be way longer than thirty seconds.”

  “Got it,” Leon replied. “And what kind of first stage is this?” He pointed to refer to the dark sky around them. “We’re on a platform. In the sky, and there’s no way to get off.”

  “Thank you, Captain Obvious,” Kiara quipped.

  “Remember what Dr. Srivastava said during our first briefing?” Matt asked. “About the potential forms of communication with the unknowns?”

  “The part about the fifty-thousand signals fired into the sequence? Yup.” Kiara replied.

  “Exactly,” Matt said. “We don’t even know if the unknowns can recognize our virtual world. I mean, can they even communicate with us. It’s on us to figure out any form of communication that comes our way and relay it back to GSF Command. If I had to guess, I’d say that was Srivastava’s thinking when he created this stage. Just as we have to identify how the unknowns would communicate with us, we have to determine how we would get out of here, with no obvious clues.”

  “So, in other words, look for some obscure anomaly that could be key to getting us out of here,” Leon added.

  “That’s right,” Kiara said.

  “Anomaly, got it,” Leon replied. Kiara and Matt scoped the area around the grated platform looking for something out of the ordinary.