Through the Singularity

by L. Frank Wadsworth

  ∞∞∞

  Nils approaches Cheryn's motel room promptly at 5:00 PM, not knowing what he’ll find. He knocks softly, then hears Cheryn moving toward the door, slowly. She opens it a crack and looks at him, quizzically. He holds up the fast food bag for her to see before she opens the door to let him in. She looks a little better, but still pretty rough. She is in a tight place and knows it. There isn't much he can do about it; he didn't intend to trap her like this, but he knows she doesn't have many options. He'll try to keep her from feeling completely stuck, but he isn't sure how it will affect their ability to form anything other than an adversarial relationship. She digs into the food without any fanfare, trying not to eat too fast. She must be very hungry.

  “Here, I brought a few necessities you might need,” he says as he hands her a shopping bag. It contains a toothbrush, toothpaste, and hair and body care products better suited to her needs. There is also a change of clothes. “Should have thought of that before I woke you up. Sorry.”

  She looks through the bag, surprised at his selections and…thoughtfulness? The clothes appear to be the right size. Skeptical, she does appreciate the supplies. “Thanks. Guess you knew I'd still be here.”

  Nils hears the accusation in her tone. She knows she's out of alternatives. “I can't predict human behavior, but yeah, I recognize you don't have a lot of options. You need allies.”

  “Is that what you're selling? You'd be better off just sticking with the truth. You want info. You've strung me along ever since the attack, arranged everything that has happened, just to put me in a position where I'd have to trade information for security.” Cheryn is getting angry again.

  “Yes, you have information I need. Yes, I have arranged everything since the attack, including the meeting with the SA group in Seattle. However, my motive was to see how you reacted to them. There are lots of ways to get information out of people; think on that a moment before you react to it. I have been honoring the wishes of the person who saved us both.”

  Cheryn closes her mouth, as she was about to say something angry. She stops and thinks about what he just said. He knows she was an assassin. It would have been easy to put her into a compromising position, one in which it would have been natural to pressure her to rat out the people giving the orders. But why not? That is what he wants. She just can't buy this crap about doing this for a dead woman, or whatever she was. She doesn't believe any of this; it's too bizarre. There has to be more here than meets the eye. “So let's just say, for the sake of argument, I give you what you want. I tell you everything I know. What happens to me then?”

  “That depends. Up to this point I have provided you an opportunity to atone for what you have done before. If we part ways now, I owe you nothing. I have already given you a considerable gift. If, however, you are willing to sit down with me, go through what you know about Sklávoi Ashtoreth, and this advances my goal to eliminate the malign influence of that organization, I would consider that an excellent return on my investment. I'd be happy to discuss how to translate that goodwill into you advancing your goals, but do not expect me to just provide you a cash payout or stipend. You will need to work to achieve your goals, but I would be willing to provide meaningful help, to include a new identity and history if necessary.”

  “What are you, a fed?”

  Nils smiles, “No, I can actually get things done.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “We can discuss that later. This is not the time or place. Have you decided what you want to do about your knee?”

  Cheryn thinks about pressing the issue but feels she has gotten all she can out of him at this point. She doesn't really have much choice about what to do next. She knows SA too well to let them find her now. As far as they know, she is now working for their enemy and just took out two of their hitters. “I don't really have a choice, do I? Let's go see this friend of yours about getting something that'll help me cope with my knee.”

  Nils smiles politely, “You always have a choice, even when they are all bad. If all goes well, you'll still have a choice when they are all good. I'll contact him and let you know when he can get us in. The plan will be to see him, rest here tonight, then go to a safe house I know where you can lie low as long as you need to. When we get there, we'll chat. What happens after that will depend on you.”

  “Will you finally tell me who the hell you are?”

  Nils looks her in the eyes, weary, as the millennia of struggling, suffering, and strife are weighing him down. She looks away. “I will reveal more. You will not believe some of it, perhaps none of it. But you deserve to know the truth, at least as much as I am willing to share. You have been a foot soldier in a conflict that has been simmering for a very, long, time. I can't promise more than that right now.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Evolution

  Zaleria stands before the Being of Light, reviewing her life. But there is another with her; it’s Rolle Andersson. He turns toward her to say something, but she can't understand it. The Being of Light shines his love on them both and tells her something significant, something very important that she is to remember, but she doesn't. It isn't there to recall. A black tunnel opens, and she falls into the darkness.

  But she doesn't wake. She is terrified. There are beings all around her; evil, predatory. She knows they seek out those like her to devour. But they hold back, something keeps them at bay. She feels more than sees a soft glow coming from somewhere. It seems to be all around her. It takes her a while to understand she is the source. When she understands this, she learns to control the light. She can make it brighter if she wills it. There is something, someone here she is supposed to find. She doesn't know why she knows this; she just does.

  She follows her intuition and moves in a seemingly random direction. She finds a patch of darkness that is denser than most. She can't describe it; it's more of a feeling than an observation. She moves over to this patch, but her light doesn't penetrate. She wills it to glow brighter, and the darkness matches and counters her attempt. It remains impenetrable, but she is now confident who or what she seeks is inside. She boldly presses forward, willing herself to enter the darkness, but it evades her every step. It is always just out of reach.

  Suddenly, she senses another presence, also glowing. It is Andersson! He helps her corner the darkness, flanking it and cutting off its attempts to retreat. They slowly press in. Just as they start to cross into its sphere, it shatters into pieces with a loud shriek. A shaft of pure light then beams down, extinguishing any remaining shadows of its evil presence. [Where there can be no Light, only deepest darkness grows.]

  Zaleria jerks awake. Another nightmare. This time with the Being of Light as well as Rolle. She is missing something significant; she is sure of it. Perhaps, she is remembering more of what must have happened after her unitary was destroyed. Rolle would have died at the same moment. Perhaps. There is probably no way of knowing with certainty. But what does it mean? Rolle is dead. How could he help her destroy the Sklávoi Ashtoreth? That must be the darkness…

  She rises from her bed and looks out her window. It is still dark, with hints of dawn just beginning to lighten the horizon. She decides brisk exercise might help her clear her head, so she puts on her exercise clothes and heads out.

  She returns shortly after dawn glistening with sweat and feeling much more relaxed. She has decided to chat with Beltare some more today about an idea that came to her while she was exercising. Her mother has made breakfast for them both. It’s funny. She has been acting much more maternal lately. “You're making me feel like a child again,” Zaleria teases.

  “Well, perhaps I've just needed to get out and do things again. It's been good to work on a project with my daughter. It does take me back. I've often wondered if we don't miss something by holding off on bearing children until so late in life. We don't get to see or interact with our descendants as much as perhaps we should.”

  “Why didn't you and Gravis have another
child?” Zaleria impulsively asks—she's never inquired before. It's not rare, and to keep numbers up, sometimes other galanen will have a third child, but she suddenly realized that she's always kind of wondered.

  Traemuña pauses dishing up breakfast for a moment, looking perhaps a bit wistful. “You've never asked that. What made you think of it now?”

  “You seem so content, like I remember you in my early years. It just suddenly struck me when you made that comment that I'm a bit surprised you didn't have another child.”

  “I think, frankly, we just waited too late to start. We were both fairly adventurous and didn't start to settle down until very late in life. It wasn't that long after you were born that Gravis crossed over, and I've never desired another. He was…unique.” She remembers fondly.

  Zaleria smiles. She, of course, has many perfect memories of her father. She was over 750 years old when Gravis let them know he had reached the point where it was time to move on. They'd all seen the signs. He'd passed on all he wanted to share many years earlier and was proud of Zaleria. He and Traemuña had been growing distant from each other, despite their deep bond. It was simply time—he needed to find the next great adventure. He took around a decade saying his farewells, then traveled back to his home, archived his essence, and made the dimensional passage to the next plane of existence without anyone to witness his departure, as was their way.

  Traemuña interrupts her memories, “So what are you planning to do today?”

  “I want to discuss some of my ideas with Beltare and get her perspective. Frankly, I'm hoping she may have other data I can examine.”

  “Just bear in mind that the wider you cast your net, the more people will learn of it, and the harder it will be to maintain secrecy.”

  “I've thought of that,” Zaleria shares, “But Beltare is already aware of much, and I trust her judgment. You've known her longer; do you feel differently?”

  Traemuña smiles at her, “No, of course not. I'm just concerned about someone sharing indiscreetly. Galanen aren't known for keeping confidences. It isn't usually until late in life that we learn the value of withholding information until we're sure of its ramifications. And Beltare has more than a few junior galanen working for her. No insult intended…”

  Zaleria wrinkles her nose at her, “Oh, I'm sure.” She shares in mock sarcasm.

  They finish breakfast, and Zaleria heads out to her favorite spot in her garden, the bench overlooking the valley. She gets there and settles herself comfortably. Thankfully, her world's day/night cycle is currently well aligned with Luna standard time. She reaches out, “Beltare, this is Zaleria. Do you have a moment to compare notes?” She waits for a response. After a considerable pause, Beltare responds back to her, seeming a bit rushed.

  “Can I get back to you in about an hour? Sorry, busy day…Would love to chat then.”

  Zaleria frowns. She misses being in the field. She decides again to explore the recorded history of galanen visits to Earth prior to her mission. The first contact with proto humans was from a survey vessel about 10,000 years after the galanen became an advanced race. This was roughly 500,000 years ago. The ship surveyed the planet from orbit, confirming it as a garden planet, and identifying multiple species or subspecies of advanced bipedal lifeforms—some of which were demonstrating rudimentary tool use. They flagged the planet for a follow-up full taxonomic screening. This was accomplished a few years later and lasted for about a century. The galanen were stunned by what they found; genetic analysis demonstrated a striking similarity with lifeforms from Urthru, the galanen home world. A mystery yet to be solved. Additional surveys were conducted every 10,000 years after this point, to keep track of developments. Things really started to advance about 20,000 years ago, leading the galanen to increase their survey rate. Zaleria's mission was just one such survey. As civilization began to develop, and humans moved into cities, the galanen established a remote observing post on Earth's moon. As human technology developed, the galanen turned it into a full-time base of operations, starting 5,000 years ago.

  Between their first discovery and Zaleria's first mission, something radically changed the evolutionary course of humanity. They went from distant genetic relatives to genetic twins. Leading theories suggest a more ancient race, perhaps one no longer within this plane of existence, seeded both the galanen home system—Vetyl—and the Sol systems with life to jump start the evolutionary process. It would be akin to a farmer planting the same crops in multiple fields. Zaleria thinks there is merit to this proposition, but it would be bolstered if they could find additional examples. To date, they have found none. Perhaps they abandoned the experiment for some reason?

  An alternative theory suggests a failed race seeded the planets, probably for their own selfish desires, but then died out before they could fully exploit the results. As much as she dislikes this theory, it does perhaps a better job explaining observations. However, the galanen really have no idea. What Zaleria finds most disquieting is that neither theory really explains how the two races were brought into such close alignment after the galanen were monitoring the planet. The records of these contact missions are sparse, which raises Zaleria's suspicions even more. Perhaps Beltare will know more about this.

  After more than an hour goes by, Beltare finally reaches out. She sounds much calmer now. It will be evening on Luna base, so hopefully she has had a chance to eat and relax. “Zaleria, sorry for the wait. You still have time to chat?”

  “Sure. I have lots of time you know. One of my greatest resources.” Zaleria knows Beltare will see this as sarcasm and not an accusation. She has been dealing with her situation much better since digging into the investigation. It has been very therapeutic. “In all seriousness, I wanted to run a couple thoughts by you to gain your perspective. I've been thinking about this from a macro level. What I've found is a little disturbing and probably should be kept in confidence—at least until we can find something actionable.”

  Beltare is silent a moment. “I think I know where you are going with this, so I tend to agree on the need for discretion. What have you got?”

  “I've been trying to narrow down the window of time in which the first compromise of human evolution had to have occurred. I think there are two. The first is the perhaps joint compromise of galanen and human evolution for which there are competing theories, but no solid leads. While I think this is significant, the status at the time of first galanen contact with humanity was that a significant genetic divergence existed between our two species. Millions of years of divergence. The second, however, occurred after we were monitoring Earth. Some unknown actor worked under our very noses to bring humans and galanen to a point where there is almost no divergence between us. And that divergence continues to narrow, based on a review of my own genetic research efforts on Earth. I don't think this fact is widely known.”

  Beltare is silent for a full two minutes thinking through what to share next. Zaleria waits patiently; she suspects strongly that she has crossed some boundary of secrecy, and Beltare is deciding whether to bring her into it, perhaps via consultation. “You have done well thinking this through. These data are not unknown to me, for which I doubt you are surprised. When you overcome your emotions, you have a sharp intellect. I'm impressed, but tell me, what do you make of these results?”

  “I think we are dealing with a rogue galan or galanen. I can't deduce their motivations just yet, though I have some theories, but their goal seems clear; they want humanity to fail. I don't think they want them to destroy themselves, just fail, but they might be satisfied with either outcome. I would like to try and narrow down the possible suspects, but the data from the contact missions between the first survey and my first mission are vague, at best. I suspect there may be additional information elsewhere, perhaps? However, we may also have to expand the search to galanen who have never officially been to the Sol system. I have a list of criteria I'd like to explore, but I'm not sure how to do it without drawing undo attention to m
y efforts.”

  “Your mother is there with you, correct?”

  “Yes, her unitary is here, and she is aware of my thoughts on this matter. I'm not concerned with her ability to keep a secret.”

  “Nor am I,” Beltare shares without completely hiding her humor at the notion of Traemuña sharing too much. “Expect corporal visitors within the next week. I'll be one of them.”

  Now, it is Zaleria's turn to be surprised. What could that possibly mean? Are they coming to silence her or to provide her access to additional information?

  Beltare probably understands what she is thinking about. “Don't worry. It is a good thing. Oh, and one other piece of information you may find interesting. The sole survivor of the attack on your unitary in the restaurant in Utah was attacked the other day in Seattle. It appears she has been working with the Andersson Foundation for the last year or so but then had a meeting with a group suspected of ties with Sklávoi Ashtoreth. Shortly after that, she was attacked by two men. Sounds like she made a good accounting of herself and was able to escape, but her whereabouts are currently unknown. Her name is Cheryn Douglass. Her background also appears to be very suspicious. We're trying to track her down. She may have information we can use.”

  Zaleria thinks about this. She remembers the name but also gets a strong feeling there is a lot more to it. Something that she should be able to remember but can't. Another odd feeling perhaps connected with her last mission on Earth. “Thank you Beltare. I look forward to seeing you next week, as well as the other visitors. I'll dig into this new information some as well. I think this person is…significant. I'm not sure why.” Zaleria wonders how long they are planning on staying. Perhaps they'll have an opportunity to socialize as well as just conduct business. She's isolated herself for too long and is ready to come out of her shell, at least a little.