“Achi?” The bedroom door opens, and Achi comes in, hesitant. He is a real mess and hasn't been sleeping very well. She knows he feels extremely guilty.
“Are you OK? I'm so very sorry. I don't know what to say, I just… I couldn't prevent it. I didn't mean to hurt you. Didn't mean for… any of this.” He looks down.
She knows everything he is thinking, all that has happened, and all that he is feeling. But he is trying to find a way to formally communicate, so she can differentiate between what he wants to say and all the other noise in his mind. It helps. He's had a few weeks to think about this and bounce ideas off their little friends. That's his word for them, but she likes it; fits her sense of humor. This is going to take a lot of getting used to.
“Achi, I never had any idea. I thought you'd gone back to your village, lived out your life, and died thousands and thousands of years ago. If I had known, I don't know what I'd have done. But I'd have done something. Tried to make it right. I had no idea. I don't know how to apologize for causing such pain. It is almost more than I can bear.” He moves over and sits across from her on the other side of the bed, facing away so as to not be imposing, or even more intimate than they already are. He knows how she feels about what happened, and what he has done with his life.
Achi thinks a while about what to say next. “There is much in this world that I regret doing, and causing you that much pain… I wish I could have stopped it. He looks down at his feet. “Our symbiots apparently synced up for the first time since being separated. It wasn't intentional; I had no way to anticipate that would happen. I needed to know whether I could trust you and your people—the galanen. I now know the answer to that.” He looks her in the eyes again. “And you now know everything there is to know about me. All that I have done with your 'gift.' We should get you back to your people; they'll be looking for you.”
It is not uncommon for Zaleria's people to make an intimate bond between two members, but it is always by mutual consent after many years of interaction and affection. Zaleria recognizes their connection is at an even deeper level, one only the most devoted of couples ever attempt because most galanen can't handle unfiltered access to everything another is thinking. Their society isn't based on that level of sharing. And as individuals, both Zaleria and Achi feel completely violated. What a disaster! She probably should at least attempt to check in with the galanen, if nothing else than to ensure there is no pursuit—although she'll have to find a way to contact them. Achi can help with that if she asks. But she has been profoundly changed. She doesn't want to share anything about what has happened with the collective, especially about Achi. His memories are too primitive, brutal. The galanen are not used to such base emotions. And all of this is because of her. Her fault, her error. She isn't ready to face the collective and admit she contaminated Earth over 10,000 years ago.
She thinks again about all the pain she's caused him and starts to relive key events in his life, unbidden. If she'd only known. What would she have done? What can she do? They share her symbiots; she can always recall them she supposes.
Achi looks at her. “Well, aren't we a pair? Why is it every time we visit, one or both of us gets severely injured and marred for life? You are new to grieving…,” he trails off, realizing it might sound like an accusation. He sighs, “I just… Look, food helps. Do you want to join me in the kitchen? There is also a bathroom on the other side of the wall, there.” She nods and starts to get out of bed. She is only wearing a stained sheet, and she is covered in sweat. She feels dirty, in more ways than one. He reads her mind. “There is also a shower in there. Towels are under the sink, and there are spare clothes in the dresser that should fit.” Of course, she already knows all of this. His memories, the layout, the access codes, everything. It is all there. And he knows it. He won't try to stop her if she flees; she knows that too. He feels a lot of guilt for what has happened, even though it was beyond his control.
He leaves the room to give her “privacy,” and taking his own advice, he heads for the kitchen. She rummages through the dresser and finds an outfit she likes. She knows Clive had supplies brought in.
She heads for the bathroom. The shower is wonderful. The hot water does make her feel a little better, at least physically. She soaks longer than necessary. She finds his selection of bath products utilitarian. He doesn't use this facility for entertaining. She gets out and dries off. She's been on many missions to Earth over the years, and she's learned to fit in. However, having access to Achi's memories makes that completely natural now and adds a great deal of historical context to everything. She looks in the mirror. While she feels better, she still looks ragged. It would be hard for a human who doesn't know her to tell, but it would stand out to any galanen. By her race's standards, she looks like crap, and although Achi would not say it (and he has always found her alluring, it seems), he agrees.
Well, that's how she feels. She brushes her hair, which after the shower has gone back to her preferred color—black, with violet tips. She keeps it shoulder length and styles it with a part in the middle such that it arches around and frames her triangular face on the sides. Her lipstick also wore off, allowing her natural violet lip color to come through. She forces a small smile; human society has diversified to the point where such a style will not stand-out. She can change it if she wants, but she likes it this way; it is who she is. Her colored contacts apparently came out in the explosion, revealing her true eye color. This is how he's always remembered me, she realizes, especially my eyes. But he recognized me even while disguised in poor light. Perhaps she should have been more thorough in altering her appearance. Moot now.
She puts on the fresh clothes and places the towel and sheet into the laundry basket in the cabinet. She now knows that is its purpose. She heads out into the main room, feeling better despite herself, and starts to think clearly about what to do next. She can't undo the last 10,000 years, and they both need to come to grips with that. But there are much larger problems, which is what has brought them back together to begin with. She stops by the liquor cabinet and reaches for his favorite bottle of rye. She pours two glasses. Thinks a bit more and makes it a double. He prefers bourbon when he's reflective, but rye when he is mourning. And that is kind of how he is feeling right now, she realizes.
She walks into the kitchen, where he has prepared a breakfast of her favorite Earth foods—at least from the supplies he had on hand. She hands him a glass. “It’s five o'clock somewhere,” she tells him. They both take a sip. “I need to ask you something,” she says eventually. “If you wanted me to, I could remove my symbiots from your body. There is nothing I can do that would…”
Achi looks at her over his glass. “I think you'll find that our little friends have developed a bit of a mind of their own. I think they multiplied beyond a certain limit because they were split between the two of us, so when we brought them back together, they reached a critical mass and became completely self-aware. I'm afraid we've circumvented their design parameters.”
He hands her a banana, her favorite fruit. “But to answer your question, no, thank you. As you are well aware, I've found my own purpose in life, and I'll not consider resting until I see it through.” He downs the rest of his glass in one shot. “It’s my turn
in the shower. I feel as sour as a caveman, and I think that offends both of our senses,” he says casually, as he gets up and heads for the bedroom to grab some clothes. “Hope you left me some hot water. You might want to chat with our little friends while I'm in there.”
Yes, sharing memories is going to take some getting used to, although she only used half the water in the tank, knowing full well it holds 50 gallons. “All right 'little friends,' what's up?”
Achi turns the water as hot as he can stand it and takes his turn in the shower to reflect. He has caused Zaleria a great deal of pain. Her access to his memories may have ruined any chance they had at working together. They now know everything about each other. Every intimate detail. He knows what he has done, and he knows what she thinks of it; she is having a hard time coping with his violent past, things he remains haunted by, and she can't get rid of those perfect memories any more than he can. He has also thoroughly rifled through her memories over the last couple weeks.
Galanen society is amazing. They live simultaneously and seamlessly in both the physical universe and a virtual world. Everything they create is based on nanotechnology and interfaces with every other thing. However, they bond and have children using natural methods to allow evolution to continue to have a role in their development as a species. They physically develop as quickly as humans, but their mental and psychological development is greatly augmented by symbiots being inoculated into them before birth. They are literally indoctrinated into the moral code that underpins the collective before they are born. Although most galanen would not recognize this, it is clear to Achi that is why their culture is successful. The collective was formed to share thoughts and ideas quickly but to also inculcate and enforce a moral code that enables their open society. Causing another pain is quickly admonished, and the offender is usually confronted physically with the pain they've caused so they can share their remorse and so heal their union. They share much of their lives, their knowledge, but only what each individual wants to share. The individual is super-empowered, given the ability to provide everything they need for themselves. There is no need to rely on a central government that could consolidate power. They each pursue their own interests and share opportunities and needs among themselves. They build coalitions of the willing to tackle problems and look to their elders for guidance when crises occur. But as individuals, they are not that different from their human cousins. Older, wiser, with far more knowledge and access to information, but deep within, driven by similar passions.
But there is another side to the collective. It is exceptionally coercive. Most galanen would not even notice, but to Achi, it is totalitarian and oppressive. The collective moral code is impressed into each individual galan before birth and constantly reinforced every moment of their lives. It permeates every aspect of their existence, to include every social interaction. They constantly hold each other accountable to this code and live by its precepts. To do otherwise is unthinkable, at least for most. The eldest seem to eventually tire of this and begin to withdraw. Zaleria's mother is perhaps one of the best examples of this phenomenon but is certainly not the only example. The more Achi explores this aspect of their society, the more he suspects this was perhaps a necessary evil. It was the price they paid to form their society while maintaining their individuality and freedom.
Achi realizes that Zaleria, even among the galanen, appears to be special. This is not how she sees herself—she is exceptionally self-critical—but he can't help but see that she is indeed a beautiful creature. Not a god, no; they are not that advanced, but she could qualify as an angel. She is full of love for life in all its forms and especially for humanity, despite all their warts. She has brought such beauty into the universe. He has seen her home through her eyes, all she has done with it, her plans, the love she expresses through her garden. Her playfulness, her sense of humor, and the joy she brings to everything she does. How concerned she is that humanity may not make it through the coming evolutionary crisis—what mankind calls the singularity. The more he rifles through her memories, the more fond of her he becomes. She is so balanced, so caring. They could be allies, but the things he has done…
He knows she is having a very hard time having his memories inside her. He knows what he is. And now she does, too. He feels immense shame, because compared to the life she has led, he can accurately be described as a monster. She can't get his memories out of her head and feels completely violated. And she knows she is not the first woman to feel this way because of him. He can barely face that, because there is no way to unravel time and undo all he has done.
Zaleria goes back to the kitchen and puts the glasses of booze aside. They will probably need those to get through the difficult conversation that will follow. In the meantime, she eats her fill. The food does help. Achi returns as she is polishing off another banana. She attempts a smile with her cheeks full. “Ittsp for our phreends,” she chokes out before swallowing. She tilts her head towards the refilled glasses. “I negotiated an increase in our ethanol limit.”
He smiles at her. “And here I thought to try and have a philosophical discussion with them. I think your idea was more practical.” He sits down. “Feeling a bit more human now, err, or galanen, or whatever the hell we are?” She leans back and smiles a bit at his weak joke, picks up her glass, and looks at him with narrowed eyes. She hasn't changed at all, physically, since they first met. She is just as beautiful as he remembers. Her striking violet eyes are matched by her hair tips and lips. She is tall, but perfectly proportioned—not the least bit gangling. Probably a little over six feet tall and athletic. Although she looks 25 years younger than he does now, she is a bit over a thousand years older. Not nearly as great a difference as when they'd first met. Frankly, when it comes to breadth of experience, they are easily peers. He reaches for his glass and matches her pose. “What now?”
“Now we talk—about the 'elephant in the room' I think is the correct expression? I'll start, since I'm older.”
“No fair,” he interjects, “It's usually age before beauty, but you'd win on both counts.”
He has changed so much, Zaleria thinks to herself. Physically, he is about the same. A bit taller as the symbiots likely helped him overcome nutritional shortcomings in his early diet and ensured his DNA was fully expressed. He is also more muscular, which is due to more than just his symbiots—she knows he works out constantly to stay in peak condition. Despite everything, he is still the hunter. He appears physically older right now—middle aged—but she knows that is deliberate, a part of his current persona. But his eyes are very different, so much older and wiser. And pained; they have seen so much pain.
She smiles at his compliment, but then gets serious. “Stop deflecting.” She pauses as she takes a sip. “I don't know what to say… how do we…?” She sighs, feeling nervous. “Can you forgive me?”
Achi is surprised. What has she to feel guilty about? She never intended to cause him any harm, had no idea until a week ago that he was even alive. “Zaleria, look at me.” She didn't realize she'd looked away and regains eye contact. “You already know the answer. I don't hate you, and I don't blame you. I was always afraid what happened was just a
mistake, an accident. I'll admit, it is hard to have that confirmed. Very hard, but not really surprising. I'd adapted to my reality a long time ago.” Now it’s his turn to look away. “But let’s get serious. We know each other better than we should, and we both know I'm the one that needs forgiveness. You've seen the life I've lived, and I've seen yours. The things I've done, and now you have to suffer with those memories, too.” And there it is… Zaleria takes another sip.
Zaleria knows that he needs to know if she can work with him. Can she? She doesn't know. He spent most of his early life very angry because he didn't know why he'd been changed. And while he says he'd accepted his fate a long time ago, it has still been a blow to learn that it was all just an accident—just as he'd always feared. While he doesn't appear to hold a grudge, is that just him compensating for the guilt he feels in his own life? She has seen what he can do, the terrible acts of violence, and the atrocities he has committed. Can she trust him? They both need to face these issues, she realizes, because he doesn't know either. She grits her teeth. There is only one way. “Share with me. Open yourself fully.”
What more could he lose by trying? “Sure, do what you will. Friends, let her see through to my thoughts, until we say stop.”
He sits very still and lets her lead the way. He feels her pushing into his thoughts and memories. Slowly, at first, tentative. Then with greater confidence. She is looking for something. She starts picking through specific memories. Those that cause him the most pain.
Through the Singularity Page 10