‘Sounds good to me.’ Deira finally felt things might be on the right track, though she was less than happy at the thought they’d have to wait until Tao contacted them before they could help her. She stood up and headed for the door. ‘I think I’m finally ready to see Adam now. Would that be alright?’
‘Of course, no problem. However, we felt it better to restrict access to him, both for his own safety and to prevent him leaving the lab.’
‘You’ve imprisoned him?’
‘I think the term is less “prison” and more “house arrest”.’ Chayka leaned back in his chair and permitted himself a small smile. ‘He’s on the Moon.’
Chapter 5
The chill winds of the night had abated by the time he reached the bottom of the hill, the dawn bringing with it an eerie, almost expectant, hush – as if the world was already grieving. The mists, rising like wraiths emerging from long-forgotten sepulchres, and the lengthy shadows cast by the rising sun, combined to give an almost surreal quality to the landscape, leaching out the colours and painting the world in shades of grey. He stood enthralled, absorbing the natural rhythm of the season and wondering, not for the first time, whether they had made the right choice. Perhaps it would have been better to have remained corporeal and accepted their fate. They were of this place. Why should they not accompany it into the darkness that would never end?
He tore himself away from this morbid reverie, shaking his head and shrugging in a gesture that was as automatic as it was unnoticed. It wouldn’t do to dwell on such thoughts, today of all days. He made his way slowly back to his nearby homestead and met his partner coming out of the door. The strangeness of the morning was clearly weaving its magic on her too, for she was gazing around in wonder. They stood together for a while, smelling the odours on the air, watching the mists dissolve, listening to the small noises that accompanied the new day, and feeling the gentle warmth on their exposed flesh as the sun tried its best to dispel the cold of the night. It was a day to engage all the senses, creating a feeling of belonging, of resonating, with the material world that had been sadly absent for so many years. It was a perfect day.
They entered the small homestead and prepared one last meal, lingering over this simple pleasure, relishing the tastes and textures, and never wanting it to end. But end it must, and the time soon arrived for them to go their separate ways, she to The Gathering, and he to his station in The Device. Someone had to remain corporeal to ensure The Exodus was a success, and he had been the logical choice. Only when he was certain everyone had gone would he cast off his own coat of flesh and follow them through, the last living thing from a universe left empty and dark.
The Device had been a series of compromises from the beginning. He had initially thought his plan could be accomplished by mentalic means, but all the small test runs had confirmed they would need a physical construct to gather and focus the colossal energy required. And a physical construct required corporeal beings, both to build it and use it.
The requirement for scientists and engineers was relatively modest given the total number available, but there was an understandable reluctance to assume the burden of corporality once more. Those that had volunteered had done so out of a strong sense of duty to the species and had expected to gain nothing from the experience. It had, therefore, been an unexpected bonus to discover they had been afforded an unprecedented opportunity to sample sensations they had long-since forgotten, and the initial resentment had quickly faded.
The building of the Device had thrown up some interesting problems relating to corporality. Delicate bodies of flesh and blood required a safe environment, and this planet had seemed like a gift, possessing as it did all the requisites for the maintenance of life. Then, there was the transportation issue, the need to regularly move those involved with the construction of The Device from the planet to the construction site, and back. The flimsy corporeal bodies required protection from the rigours of space while they were engaged on the project, something that hadn’t even been considered by a species whose natural home was in the icy wastes of the cosmos.
It would have been easy to have employed advanced technology, but that would have required enormous amounts of energy – energy that was in extremely short supply. At the other extreme, primitive technology required relatively little energy, but was inherently unreliable and unsafe. The consensus had been to opt for an intermediate alternative – fusion-powered spaceships and a simple, air-tight environment at the construction site. There would be no artificial gravity employed, that was an energy-expensive, luxury. Likewise, there would be no protection against cosmic rays and other energetic particles because any damage to their physical bodies would become irrelevant when The Device was complete. That had been the decision, and that was how it had played out.
He alone had been allocated a personal fusion ship. As the architect of The Device, as well as the one who would oversee its use, he had acquired certain privileges and now, the ship would serve him one last time, transporting him on this final journey.
He sat in the pilot’s seat and engaged the thrusters, enjoying the familiar pressure on his body as the little ship powered its way out of the planet’s gravity well. Although this was completely familiar to him by now, he experienced a feeling of dread as he watched the blue of the upper atmosphere fade into the blackness of space. There would be no return journey today. Today, he was committed, the last hope of untold billions, a responsibility that was as exhilarating as it was crushing.
On a whim, he discontinued the thrusters and turned, unable to resist one final, wistful gaze at the planet that had served as their home during these end times. It shone like a jewel in a setting of black baize, half-lit by the light of a star that would soon cease to exist. Once that happened, it would be engulfed by the never-ending night, its surface littered by the bodies of flesh that were about to be discarded. It seemed like a desecration.
He wrenched himself away from these maudlin thoughts and returned his attention to the controls, engaging the thrusters once more and going through the sequence of routines that had become second-nature to him on his regular journeys to and from the planet. It would take him just under three hours to reach his destination and a further hour to initialise The Device. Then would be the moment of truth.
The limiting factor was always going to be energy. He had reworked the calculations over and over, but the results always remained the same. It was impossible to be sure whether there would be enough. When the Device was complete, he had insisted that the fusion drives from the redundant spaceships were removed and connected into the overall construct. In addition, the drive of his own ship would be automatically connected at the time of docking. That was all they could do. No testing had been possible, because that would have used up precious energy, so it would either work or it wouldn’t. If it worked, all well and good. And if the energy still proved to be insufficient? Well, he had a back-up plan that he had deliberately kept to himself – and desperately hoped he would not have to use.
His small ship passed through the massive struts of The Device and he engaged a small amount of reverse thrust to allow it to slip silently into the docking ring. After ensuring that the fusion drive connection had been satisfactorily enabled, he popped the hatch, opened the inner door, and walked briskly to the control room, running his eyes over the banks of instruments that lined all four walls. The time for introspection, sensation, and emotion was over. Now was the time for pragmatism. Now was the time for action.
He checked the holding area, a large metal tank that served as a container for the billions of energy-bodies present in The Gathering, and his instruments confirmed that everyone was there. He didn’t need instruments to detect the excitement, it radiated outwards in almost palpable waves. They were eager to get started, their trust in him complete.
So, now it began. Soon he would discover whether this project was to be their salvation or simply demonstrate his own colossal hubris. His argument had been
simple. The universe was dying, so if they wished to avoid the same fate, their only option was to create a new one. The mathematics were persuasive. Sufficient energy, directed as a single burst at a quantal point in space, should fracture spacetime and create a new continuum, rapidly expanding from the resulting white hole. Some would call it a Big Bang. The energy-bodies of the gathered multitude would then be “assembled” by The Device into a coherent electromagnetic beam and “fired” into the rift, taking them to their new home. As a concept, it was magnificent. In practice, the unknown quantity was whether the amount of energy available would be sufficient.
He rapidly powered-up The Device using the energy from the ships’ fusion drives. Initialisation would take approximately an hour and he would need that time to check through the circuits and fail-safes to ensure they were all nominal. As he worked, he sensed a growing impatience among the members of The Gathering. They had been waiting for this for so long, and these last few minutes seemed like an eternity. He sympathised with the mood because he felt the same. It would be so easy to take a few short-cuts and simply get on with things.
He pulled himself together with a start, realising that he had been affected by the emotional leakage from the gathering and had almost missed a critical malfunction in one of the components of the Device. This wouldn’t do. It was imperative he remain calm and rational for this to stand any chance of working. Carefully, he replaced the damaged component, tuned out the emotional tsunami from The Gathering, and forced himself to focus. He would only get one chance at this. Once the final stage was set in motion, there was no going back. The Device would extract the entire energy of the sun and store it within a magnetic field in a huge chamber. That was all the energy available to create their new universe – and the jury was still out as to whether it would be enough.
After fifty-six minutes – fifty-six minutes that felt like fifty-six years – initialisation was complete. He stepped back from the instrument console, experiencing a mixture of thrill and apprehension. The time had finally arrived, and he could delay no longer. He reached over and flicked a switch.
The sun faded and darkened, and his gut twisted in concern as the energy-transfer monitor began its slow climb. Maximum capacity – the energy required for the ensuing impulse to smash through the fabric of space-time – should be reached in two minutes and it seemed to him that the rate of rise was too slow. The energy available from the sun had always been the unknown factor, the wild card on which he’d gambled all their futures, and as he watched the stellar furnace fade and die, he knew it wasn’t going to be enough.
Soon enough, Phase One reached its conclusion and the sun was left a blackened husk, almost invisible in the surrounding darkness. He stared bleakly at the energy capacity monitor. It had been so close – just not close enough. The monitor showed ninety-six percent. He was four percent short.
This was his nightmare scenario. In fact, he had experienced genuine nightmares over the last few nights, waking drenched with sweat as he played out the dreadful consequences. The possibility had always existed, of course, the mathematics hinting at it but never able to confirm it. In the end, he had pushed it to the back of his mind and simply hoped it would never happen. Now it had, and it was up to him alone how he handled it.
Swiftly, he disengaged the fusion reactors and transferred their output to the stolen energy of the sun. No good, he was still three percent short. He would need to implement his back-up plan. For very good reasons, he’d made no mention of this to anyone, carefully preparing and installing the necessary mechanisms when all the others had left, thinking the Device was complete.
It had all seemed completely logical at the time, and he supposed it was when viewed from a hard, academic perspective. Unfortunately, when faced with the reality, it now felt naïve and facile, and he was no longer sure he could go through with it. Perhaps his weeks of corporality had left him with this unexpected and unwanted reluctance, this hand-wringing doubt that paralysed him into inaction. Whatever the cause, it would be fatal for them all if he didn’t move soon.
He stood in an agony of indecision, aware of the waves of agitation emanating from the Gathering. They knew, as well as he, that the collected solar energy could only be constrained for a limited time and they were clearly doubting his ability to perform his duty. He gave a rueful smile. Duty. If only they knew what that word truly meant. His duty was to ensure the survival of the species, but the cost of that was going to be appalling. Yes, he would do his duty. He would go above and beyond it. Today he would become a monster – a pariah for all time.
He activated the emitter – the mechanism that had been designed to fire the assembled energy-bodies through the rift – and subtly altered the destination locus. He hesitated once again at the thought of what he about to do, the enormity of it being almost too great to bare. Then his finger spasmed down on the firing button.
The magnetic currents surrounding The Gathering forced the assembled energy-bodies into a coherent beam as intended. He listened guiltily to the surge of excitement as those affected anticipated their imminent transmission to a new home. Then he watched as they were fired – straight into the container that blazed with the stored energy of the sun. Those that were in that beam, billions upon untold billions of them, died instantly, their energy contributing to the overall whole. He watched anxiously as the indictor went up. Ninety-eight percent. Ninety-nine percent.
The moment the capacity indicator reached a hundred percent, he shut down the beam of compressed energy-bodies and activated the programmed energy burst. The lightning-like bolt flashed out, focused on a single quantum of space-time and, for a heart-stopping moment, nothing happened. He held his breath. After what he’d just done, was he still doomed to fail? Then, it was there – a singularity – and the quantal read-outs on his instruments confirmed the presence of a new space-time beyond.
He let out his breath and moved swiftly to activate the magnetic fields that surrounded The Gathering. This time, the beam of compressed energy-bodies was fired straight through the newly created rift as intended, and he sighed with relief. It was a success of sorts. However, a final check on the numbers left him horrified.
This was supposed to have been a new beginning for the people, but for most of them, that was not to be, their projected re-birth being savagely transformed into a fiery death. He could not possibly have known how many energy-bodies would be needed to make up the energy deficit, but the reality left him sickened. Out of the billions that had attended the Gathering, less than sixteen thousand had made it through the rift.
For a moment, his courage failed him. This was catastrophic. How could he possibly face the others after this? For a moment he contemplated remaining where he was and submitting to the true death, but his desire to survive remained strong and the rift would only remain open for a few more seconds. He made his decision, casting off his mantle of flesh and hurling himself into the coherent beam that would take him to a future unknown.
Whatever the others felt about his actions, he had done what had been necessary to ensure the survival of at least some of his species.
There would be plenty of time to debate the ethics.
Chapter 6
Deira put her head round the door and snatched a quick look at Tao Chen – no, Adam, she reminded herself. He/she was lying on the bed, legs crossed, one hand behind his/her head, reading a journal of some kind. What Deira couldn’t help but notice was the way he/she occasionally pulled at his/her lower lip as he/she concentrated on the subject matter. That was Adam, through and through. He’d also tend to … yes! He’d just done it. He stroked his chin idly and frowned slightly. That was it, then. She’d accept him as Adam and forget all this he/she crap.
‘Something interesting?’ She arranged a suitable smile on her face, pushed open the door, and walked in.
He looked up in surprise. ‘Deira!’ His face lit up and he leaped off the bed, throwing the journal down as if it was of no consequence. �
�I thought you’d given up on me.’
‘Not at all.’ Deira walked over and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. ‘I had some issues I had to straighten out. Personal issues. I’m afraid your sudden appearance in Tao Chen’s body was just too much for me.’
‘I get that – and I’m so sorry.’
Deira sat on the bed, still finding it strange to be looking at Tao but talking to Adam.
‘I’m still having difficulty believing it’s really you,’ she admitted. ‘Even after that initial session we had together several weeks ago.’
‘I understand.’ Adam sat next to her. ‘Since we last met, I’ve been wondering how I could convince you.’ For a moment his eyes took on a distant look, focused on somewhere far away, then he snapped back and stared intently at Deira. ‘Do you remember just before we PHASEd to Mars? You were wondering how the spatial PHASEing technology worked and I explained a little of the basics. I asked you if you wanted to hear more but you were emphatic you didn’t. If I remember correctly, you said, “You mean they transmit us to where Mars will be in about four minutes time using knowledge of where it was about four minutes ago?” The look on your face was priceless.’
Deira stared at him in amazement. ‘How could you possibly remember that word-for-word after so long?’
‘Deira, memories were all I had to sustain me – to keep me sane. You were very important to me in those last few weeks, so it was only natural I tended to focus on memories of you. You kept me going Deira, through the blackest of times.’
‘I’m glad. And you were in sub-quantal space all that time? During all the years I thought you were dead?’
‘I was. Somehow, I got pulled in during that PHASE to Mars. I know you had some dealings with me after that, but that wasn’t really me. You’ve got to believe that.’
Gods of Titan- The Cosmic Constants Page 4