Oracle

by Douglas E. Richards

  “It means that your clairvoyance can’t be fooled,” said Vega excitedly. “It means that only you have any free will when it comes to the future. Whatever future Steve chose, using his free will or a random coin, was the future that you had already seen come into being.”

  “But he was able to change the future in the previous experiment,” said Anna. “He was able to bury a card after I had seen it in an alternate future.”

  Redford nodded. “Yes, but only because in that experiment,” he said, “you provided information about the future. Before I made my choice. You told me you saw me turn the card up in the future, so I could then choose to bury it, instead. That’s the only way we mortals can alter what you see coming. Otherwise, anyone who’d like to change the future you see will fail every time.”

  Anna pondered this while the group waited patiently for her to reach the proper conclusions. “I think I understand,” she began tentatively, clearly straining to keep the logic straight. “When I told you I had seen you turn up the five of clubs, you had the free will to bury it instead. And this changed the future. But when you weren’t sure which future I saw, you and the coin always acted in a way to bring this exact future about. It was cemented in, no matter how you tried to alter it.”

  “Exactly,” said Redford. “Tom thought this would be the case, but the implications are profound. It’s impossible for a non-clairvoyant being to cheat the universe. We have no ability to change anything that you see coming. Only you can. Period. By seeing a future, you can take steps to change it. Or you can provide information to others, giving them the free will, the option, of changing it.”

  Anna nodded. “Go on.”

  “But if you don’t provide information,” continued the colonel, “and don’t do anything, yourself, to change the future, every other being in the universe is on an unchangeable path to whatever destiny you foresee. Since we don’t know for sure what our futures will bring, we blindly go down the path that leads to the future you see every time, even if we think we’re making random choices to avoid this. So even our random choices are already baked in. Again, you’re the only intelligence we know of with the power to avoid a future that you see.”

  “Well said, Steve,” added Vega. He sighed and faced Anna. “It’s going to take some time for the full implications to really sink in. For all of us. But these results suggest that if anyone can turn the tide of a war, it’s you. It appears that there are two levels of free will. We mortals, as Steve described us, can exercise free will to create a future, but we can’t then change our minds. But you can. You can decide to take a future action, look ahead to see if you like the result, and then change your mind if you don’t. You can force the universe into a do over. In that sense you aren’t just a mere human being. You’re more like a god.”

  Redford nodded his agreement, mesmerized. Hottest god ever, he said to himself, not even moving his lips.

  “Did you just say, ‘hottest god ever’?” asked Vega.

  The colonel looked horrified. “Of course not,” he said. “You Vors have pretty wild imaginations.”

  “No. Our hearing is many times sharper than that of humans,” persisted Vega. “I’m sure that’s what I heard.”

  Redford shook his head. “Jesus, Tom!” he snapped in exasperation. “Thanks so much for clearing that up.”

  The colonel turned back to the woman across from him and winced. “I’m so sorry, Anna,” he began. “I thought I only said that in my head. And I know the word hot sounds lustful, but that’s not how I meant it. The truth is that what’s, um . . . hot about you is your poise and competence. Not that you aren’t very attractive also,” he added awkwardly. Redford grimaced as he realized he was just making things worse. “I’ll shut up now.”

  A smile spread across Anna’s face. “Don’t worry, Steve. I know better than anyone that the subconscious sometimes has a mind of its own.” Her blue eyes sparkled impishly. “And just so you know,” she added, “I’ve already had a vision of us sharing a passionate kiss. I don’t know how far ahead I was seeing, but this happened in the warehouse, when my powers were far weaker, so this vision must have been a pretty important one.”

  The colonel’s mouth dropped open. “Really?”

  “I wouldn’t lie about that,” said Anna. “After all, the vision was pretty . . . hot.”

  Redford laughed. “Then in that case,” he said, “this is one future that I hope like hell you don’t plan to change.”

  Anna smiled. “I wouldn’t have brought it up if I did,” she admitted. She arched an eyebrow. “But not in front of the extraterrestrials,” she added wryly.

  “Let me understand,” said Vega. “You’ve just learned that you’re the only known sentient being in the galaxy with the power to change the future. For all we know, you’re what the Gatekeepers have always been after. Perhaps they orchestrated events over many thousands of years to bring about the right conditions for the emergence of a woman like you, who can go on to become a god. Maybe they’ll let you achieve transcendence so you can lead them. All of these possibilities, and more, are now on the table. Yet given everything, the first thought that comes to your mind is about copulation?”

  “Not the first thought,” said Anna in amusement. “And a kiss isn’t exactly copulation. Either way, suggesting I’m some kind of god who can mold the universe is ridiculous. It’s so over the top it isn’t even worthy of a response. But even if you are right, don’t gods need affection too?”

  Vega shook his head. “Humans,” he said in mock exasperation. “The fact that you’re the only species who can end the galactic war means only one thing for certain: The Gatekeepers have the most demented sense of humor in the cosmos.”

  42

  Stephen Redford was on his back on the thick mattress, naked, with his arm around Anna Abbott lying beside him, her head resting on his chest.

  Could this be real? he thought for the dozenth time.

  Perhaps he had been kidnapped and plugged into the Matrix. Or perhaps this was the longest, most vivid, most improbable dream he had ever had.

  He had imagined meeting intelligent aliens. He had imagined finding a woman he could become head-over-heels enamored with almost at first sight, and then making love to this very same woman. He had even imagined transcendent beings, galactic wars, extraterrestrials bent on worldwide conquest, starships, and interstellar portals.

  But all of these at once? Not even in his most insane fever dreams.

  Then throw in that the woman he’d become enamored with was clairvoyant, and that their lovemaking would take place at a ranch house in Utah, owned by aliens, which could be made absolutely invisible—and it couldn’t possibly be real.

  Except that it had to be. Because even if he were to experience a total psychotic break, his delusional mind could never be this imaginative—or insane.

  Anna Abbott was even more amazing than he had guessed. They had retired early and made love as if this was their last day on Earth. And they had been in total sync. Caring, wild, compassionate, and generous. Like him, he learned that she hadn’t had sex in quite some time, but that wasn’t what made this experience so transcendent. It was that their personalities, for whatever reason, genuinely clicked, and their mutual admiration for each other exerted an irresistible magnetic pull. As they made love repeatedly, talking for hours in between, their attraction to each other only grew.

  Redford told her about his geeky childhood, his obsession to learn what was out there, to expand his horizons, and to be present when humanity learned it wasn’t alone in the universe.

  And she told him everything. About her parents’ murder. About her troubled, delinquent childhood, in far more depth than she had told Vega. And about her friend Isabella, and how her death had cemented Anna’s resistance to letting anyone get close to her.

  Until now.

  “So what do you make of the Vors who have mysteriously disappeared?” he asked her, stroking her hair gently. He decided that they had covere
d their pasts thoroughly enough for now, and it was time to return to pressing questions in their surreal present.

  “Hard to say,” she replied. “But I’m not thrilled that it happened to Vors who were especially good at finding people like me.”

  “According to Vega, there are no people like you. Hell, according to me there aren’t. I’ve only known you a few days, and I’m sure of it. There may be fellow one-in-five-millions, but none of them systematically honed their intuitions like you did. None of them fed their subconscious a Library of Congress worth of audiobooks. And as Vega told us in the helicopter, most of them were selfish, or arrogant, or were unfit to serve for any number of other reasons. You took an ability that could have made you rich and powerful and became a public servant instead. Risking your life to make the world a better place.”

  “That’s kind of you to say, but it’s not like I’m Mother Teresa.”

  “Thank God,” he said with a grin. “Because I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t be having sex with me now if you were.” He cringed. “And I’m absolutely sure I wouldn’t be having sex with you.”

  She laughed.

  “You aren’t a saint, no,” he continued on a more serious note. “But you’ve been in the trenches and come out stronger. And yet retained decency and compassion. You’re truly the Goldilocks candidate, Anna. Or maybe the Mary Poppins candidate: practically perfect in every way.”

  “Wow. Did you just reference Goldilocks and Mary Poppins in the same breath? Is that the kind of tough, macho talk that helped you rise to the top of a Black Ops unit in your early thirties?”

  “I had to sprinkle in some references to Smurfs, as well,” he said, trying to keep a straight face. “But that’s just the kind of bad-ass I am.”

  Anna laughed.

  “But getting back on topic,” said Redford, serious once again, “I’m worried about the Vors who disappeared also. It suggests that some faction doesn’t want them to find their Oracle. Now that they have, it seems to me that this faction will be coming after you.”

  “They’ll have to get in line,” said Anna dismissively. “Maybe all the factions who are after me will battle each other for the honor. But I’m actually not too worried. We’re on guard anyway.”

  “If some unknown party did want to take you out,” said Redford, “the time to do it would have been before your clairvoyance was enhanced. If it keeps getting stronger, like the Vors think it will, it’ll be harder and harder to surprise you. Especially since life-and-death stakes are more likely to bring out your precognition than anything else.”

  Further testing the day before had revealed that Anna’s ability to see a card ten seconds into the future was absolute, but became less than a hundred percent at three minutes, and vanished completely at over fifty minutes. But Vega was convinced that she could see much further than this already, either randomly or because of the importance of the vision. Her vision of kissing Redford was proof. That vision, as it turned out, had been more than a day into the future.

  “So right now,” said Anna, “everyone here thinks I’m the only sentient who can change the future. But what if the Vors find and enhance other humans? Then there will be any number of us who can. What then?”

  Redford considered. “I guess it depends,” he said. “If your futures never intersect, I guess it doesn’t matter how many clairvoyants there are. You see yourself stubbing your toe in the bathroom in five minutes, and choose not to go into the bathroom to avoid this. The future universe is changed, but very little. At the same time, a decision by a clairvoyant in Japan to slam on the brakes to avoid a future crash has no impact on you, or anyone but a few people in Japan.”

  “And when the futures of two or more clairvoyants do intersect?” she asked.

  Redford nodded thoughtfully. “In that case,” he said, “things could get pretty wild. Dueling future changers. Imagine two clairvoyants on opposite sides of a battle. Each one sorting through multiple possible futures, their heads wrapped up almost entirely in what might be, rather than what is. At the same time having to lapse back into the present to try to force the outcome they want. But both sides doing this at the same time. Talk about complex. Talk about Wild West.” He shuddered.

  Anna blew out a long breath. “Tom said that now that they’ve found me, the Vors will no longer be hunting for other possible intuitives. If this is true, I guess we’ll never have to worry about more than one clairvoyant operating at the same time.”

  They laid together in silence for several minutes, basking in the affection and intimacy that had long been absent from both of their lives. “Speaking of your clairvoyance,” said Redford, “I’m forever in its debt for sending you the vision of us that it did. But you didn’t happen to see anything else about us in the future recently, did you?”

  Anna rolled off his chest and onto her side, facing him. “I didn’t,” she said. “And I don’t want to. I think we have a real shot at something that will last.” The detective raised her eyebrows. “And I know you feel the same way,” she added, “because you’re going to tell me so in about eight minutes.”

  “You are joking, right?” said the colonel, making a face.

  “Of course,” replied Anna, grinning. “But my intuition does have a good feeling about you.”

  “Yeah, mine does too,” said Redford. “But I do worry that your clairvoyance might make a relationship a little . . . unusual.”

  Anna laughed. “You think?” she said playfully. “A lot unusual. But I plan to learn to control it, and if this relationship does continue, I won’t ever use it to spy on us.”

  “Can’t imagine that you won’t be tempted.”

  She shook her head. “Not as much as you’d think. For the most part, I want to live in the present. Being inside my own head to see future visions can come in handy, but a cell phone is distracting enough for anyone wanting to live one’s life in the moment. So I plan to use my clairvoyance judiciously. What fun is life if you always know what’s coming? Every time you read a book or watch a taped show, you have the power to look ahead and see the ending. But you don’t. You’d never even think of it. Because you know it would ruin the experience.”

  “You make some great points,” said Redford.

  “Thanks,” said Anna with a grin. “And I’ll try to pretend that I didn’t know you were going to say that.”

  “Okay,” said Redford. “I know you’re kidding, but you really have to cut that out.”

  “Sorry,” said Anna sheepishly. “I guess I’m letting the absurdity of this new ability get in my head, and it’s coming out as attempted humor.”

  “My instincts tell me you’re a kind, decent human being,” said Redford. “And while I know they aren’t as good as your instincts, I’m pretty sure I’m right. Which means that you’ll soon have the power to do a lot of good in the world. Although I guess I should say, in the galaxy.”

  Anna blew out a long breath. “Maybe,” she said. “I certainly intend to try. But good intentions can be a tricky thing. Have you ever heard the parable of the Zen Master, the boy, and the horse?”

  Redford shook his head no.

  “A boy in a small village gets a beautiful horse on his sixteenth birthday,” she began, “and everyone in the village says, ‘What a lucky boy.’

  “To which the Zen Master replies, ‘We’ll see.’

  “The next day, while riding his horse, the boy is thrown off and breaks his leg. Everyone in the village says, ‘How horrible for the poor boy.’

  “To which the Zen Master replies, ‘We’ll see.’

  “The next day a war breaks out. All men sixteen and older are pressed into battle against an unbeatable foe, which will mean almost certain death for each of them. But the boy is exempt from the fighting because of his broken leg. Everyone in the village says, ‘What a lucky boy.’

  “To which the Zen Master replies, ‘We’ll see.’”

  She paused and raised her eyebrows.

  “Wow!” said Redford. �
�That’s a lot more profound than I was expecting.”

  “It’s one of my favorite parables,” said Anna. “And never has it been more disconcerting than in the context of clairvoyance. Because what if I saw the happy future when the boy got the horse as a gift, and was even lucky enough to see the future beyond that, when he broke his leg? But I didn’t see the war. So I change the future so he doesn’t break his leg, and he gets killed. Good intentions. Acting on solid information. Yet with disastrous consequences. And who knows how many other layers of the onion there are going forward that I’m not seeing.”

  Redford grinned.

  “What are you smiling about,” she said. “You don’t think this is relevant?”

  “No, it’s very relevant. And I admire you even more for considering it. I was smiling because I realized that I’m even more smitten with you than I thought. This parable and your analysis is so thoughtful, so insightful, and so beautifully presented. You are, by far, and in so many ways, the most impressive woman I’ve ever met.”

  “You’re going to have to do a lot better than that,” said Anna playfully. “In the past few days I’ve been called the most important person who ever lived. The galaxy’s only hope. And a god. By comparison, calling me the most impressive woman you’ve ever met is like an insult.”

  Redford laughed. “Do you see any future where you get such a big head that it won’t fit through a door?”

  “Come on, Steve, would the most impressive woman you’ve ever met let herself get a big ego?”

  “Good point,” said Redford.

  “Seriously, though,” said Anna, “how do I ever know the decisions I make are really for the best? How do I know I have a long enough perspective?”

  “The answer is that you don’t. Unless you truly are a god. Maybe an actual god has the kind of perspective to know to let the boy break his leg.”

  Anna nodded. “True believers say that God works in mysterious ways,” she said. “That things happen for a reason—or for the best. And all of this speaks to having the right perspective, and a view of the entire future, rather than just one part of it. If there is a god, he or she lets horrible, despicable things happen. Wars that kill tens of millions of people. The holocaust and other attempted genocides. Earthquakes and volcanoes and hurricanes.