by Paul Anlee
His voice showed no hint of the guilt the Gods had been anticipating. Such audacious lack of remorse galled them even more.
“Minor details,” Lyv spat. “Though, we would’ve been happier if you’d included representatives from all species in Alum’s Realm. No offence to our guests.” Her featureless avatar stood up from its throne and bowed to Darya, Mary, and Brother Stralasi.
Stralasi managed a clumsy bow of his own, while the two Cybrids dipped in acknowledgement.
Darak frowned. “What other representatives would you have had me invite? Are you referring to the Angels? They have no place here, as you well know. If I were to bring an Angel here, I might as well invite Alum. I don’t think any of us are ready for that.”
Depchaun cleared his throat noisily and reasserted control of the conversation.
“In honor of our guests, we Six will also appear here in physical form, so to speak. We have prepared Aspect versions of our complete selves at the prearranged pick-up locations. You may bring them here, now.”
Darak’s frown deepened. “Why would you choose now for your first physical presence at one of these meetings? What are you planning?”
Glenchax’s avatar stood and spread its arms wide. “You wound us with your insinuations! In the spirit of this new level of openness, we merely seek to reciprocate. Our Aspects are no threat to you or your guests. They carry nothing more than tightly-linked Partial personas. We will continue to communicate through your personal channels.
“Revealing the physical appearances of our species to one another and to our guests will lead to a new level of trust among us all. We have computed that this is critical for our next steps in addressing the Alum problem that we all share.”
Even without knowing the Gods’ full capabilities and powers, Stralasi’s inferior mind guessed at the considerable potential for treachery. He wondered how many possible acts of betrayal Darak was playing out in his imagination.
“Very well,” Darak answered, “We look forward to meeting with your Aspects.”
Stralasi let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. Darak must consider his ability to protect me and the Cybrids adequate, as well as his ability to keep the location of the Realm secret.
The monk relaxed ever so slightly, and savored the reassuring breath refilling his lungs.
He watched with fascination as the gray avatars of the six Gods were replaced, one at a time, by a variety of biological life forms and heard a gasp escape Mary’s speakers—or had that emanated from his own lips? He wasn’t sure.
Had he not already witnessed an incredible diversity of life across Alum’s Realm—all of which was included within the classification of humanity—he might have fainted at the sight of the six extraordinary creatures that appeared on the thrones.
Depchaun’s Aspect, a prickly, glossy-black cube with articulated limbs jutting from all sides, hovered a meter above his throne like any Cybrid.
A machine civilization?—Stralasi wondered. Or just its God?
The others were recognizable biological species although they varied dramatically in form from the willowy, bipedal, vaguely-humanoid Ki-tan-la to the furry arachnid Lyv and her attendant spider mites, to the tentacled gas-bag Ishtgor, to the dry-skinned, long-legged reptile that was Glenchax.
But, most of all, Stralasi’s gawking eyes were drawn to Raytansoh: He’s like…like…two green octopuses fused together at the head!
The Good Brother had seen many strange organisms, both Standard and alien, during his travels with Darak. Each form had been both shocking and fascinating in its own way. But this one! How could its biology function? Was it even real? Could Raytansoh be fooling Darak about his species’ true appearance? Stralasi was pretty sure Darak was not easily tricked.
“I’m sure you’re all as repulsed by my appearance as I am by yours,” Lyv said. She spoke by means of rapidly-vibrating, chitinous bristles that scraped against her dorsal carapace and emitted complex sounds. “Though I must admit, a number of you do look quite…delicious.”
She chuckled and a drop of venom involuntarily squeezed from her tail stinger. Two small attendant mites rushed to lick it up before it dripped.
“I doubt you would find my internal components either refreshing or nutritious,” Ishtgor thrummed with tiny wings that beat against resonators to produce hollow-sounding utterances. “But I agree as to the general hideousness of your various forms. I’m glad Darak permitted us to meet previously in uniform humanoid avatars. It allowed us to grow accustomed to a single repugnant form while we came to know one another. Clearly advantageous, in Ki-tan-la’s case,” he joked, and wheezed out a rasping, wet sound that may have been a laugh.
The solitary bipedal Aspect in the group acknowledged the backhanded compliment by touching her hands to either side of her head.
“I’m grateful to be found less distasteful in appearance,” she said.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Depchaun replied. “You are all grossly soft, fleshy reminders of a time that I’d rather forget, a time of constant vulnerability and weakness. You repulse me, and it requires great fortitude to look past your physical appearances.”
Stralasi marveled at the grotesque beauty of the speaker’s spikes as they shuddered over the polished, black surface of the machine-being when it—he?—spoke.
Darak’s voice cut through the din of the Gods’ banter.
“I think we can all agree that the universe has found many interesting ways to achieve intelligence. It comes as no surprise that we are most familiar with our own forms and find them most pleasing. Thankfully, our mental structures have more in common than our physical ones.”
“As far as you can assure us,” Ishtgor responded.
“There appears to be a limited number of ways to move from parallel concept-association processes to linear, logico-rational thinking,” Raytansoh stated. “The convergence of natural processes is remarkable in this regard.”
Depchaun agreed. “Even my own extensive explorations of alternative forms of cognition have been remarkably unsuccessful in discovering other useful approaches,” he added. “Concept-processing in universes vastly different from our own still converges on similar structures and algorithms. Perhaps our new guests will have some insights into this.” His sensors focused on Darya and Mary.
Darak nodded at the Cybrids, encouraging them to respond.
“I am far less capable than any of you so I’m not sure how much I could contribute to such lofty philosophy,” Darya replied. “My concerns are more immediate and real.
“I’ve asked Darak to bring us here because I believe forceful intervention is necessary to stop Alum’s Divine Plan.
“Our recent attack on His Deplosion Array was met with a surprisingly vigorous defense; they successfully repelled our army without Alum’s direct intervention. This suggests it may be beyond the ability of our collective comrades in the Realm to deal with Him on our own. We need help.”
“Will Darak not help you?” Lyv asked. Her voice carried no hint of criticism, but Darak winced nonetheless.
“While Darak has provided helpful, albeit limited, assistance to our military endeavors, he advises negotiation over aggression,” Darya replied. “I am less sure that talk alone will be effective. I seek your wisdom.”
Well-played! Challenging my judgment to feel out the other Gods—Darak thought. An approving half-grin formed on his lips and his heart tugged at his mind as ancient memories of Kathy’s political wrangling danced across the surface of his thoughts.
“Haaah!” Glenchax threw back his lizard-like head and roared. “We Six have been certain for a long time of the need to take action. Darak refused to discuss this. He refused to elaborate on his plan for dealing with Alum. Now, we learn that he intends nothing but discussion? No wonder you’ve kept your contemplations to yourself, Darak. As we suspected, you have no plan at all!”
“Words and ideas can be every bit as powerful as aggression,” Darak said. “We wh
o can speak universes into existence should know this.”
“But,” said Depchaun, holding out an appendage for attention, “we also know the complexities of the thoughts of Gods. Who among us can guess at Alum’s full rationale for His Divine Plan? Who can find a way to penetrate His logic? His assumptions? To demonstrate to Him the errors in His thinking?”
“I agree,” Ishtgor added. “While we understand Alum’s intolerance of competition—witness His destruction of the Aelu—we have learned to accept the presence of others like ourselves in the universe.”
“You only say that because none of you know where the other lives,” Darak countered. “Before I introduced you to each other, you had no idea any other Gods existed. And, until today’s meeting, you didn’t even know what each other looked like.”
“But you knew,” Ki-tan-la’s voice cut through the meeting room. “And we could all accept the risk that came with that knowledge, the danger that you might tell others and bring war to our homes.”
“In truth, it’s been difficult to understand your puzzling reluctance to sanction our proposal,” Raytansoh said from the floating tank of water in which he lay half-suspended. “Why are you protecting this would-be universe-destroying God who should be our mutual enemy?”
“As I’ve explained to you many times, I’ve never supported Alum’s Plan,” Darak objected. “And I’ve kept you from direct intervention as much for your own protection as for His.”
“So you say. Yet, by your own admission, you have done nothing to directly resist His Plan.”
Darak hung his head.
“That’s not true,” asserted an unexpected voice.
The Good Brother, who’d been standing in the background, stepped out into the center of the chamber. His feet brushed over the tiny sparkles of stars embedded in the floor.
“I can personally attest that Darak has been working against Alum and, over the past year or so, he’s been preparing to do more. I was there. I’ve seen it, myself. Tell them, Darak. Tell them about your Judgment Plan.”
His imploring gaze landed on Darak’s empty stare.
Darak reluctantly joined Stralasi at the center of the circle of thrones.
“My plan includes more than discussion with Alum. In the society of the Realm, we have an old, mostly-forgotten tradition of seeking consensus through voting, similar to what some of you’ve developed in the history of your own societies.”
“This is the democracy you told us about?” Depchaun scoffed. “Nothing more than a primitive precursor to menta-factoring!”
“And no more effective than our customary meeting-of-the-minds nests,” Lyv added.
“Yes, there could be more effective ways to make group decisions,” Darak replied. “Cybrids, for example, can directly compare and contrast concepta structures much like the menta-factoring of Depchaun’s people.
“But Alum hasn’t permitted the concepta-comparison technique to be employed among the original human stock of the Realm. So I’ve recently planted a virus that will infect a significant proportion of both human and Cybrid populations. It is already enhancing the simple lattices that both species share, boosting general intelligence by a few levels, providing a QUEECH comm channel, and adding specifically relevant historical and scientific knowledge. In time, it will allow direct comparison of conceptas, of entire knowledge-belief systems.”
Darak turned slowly, examining each of the Gods’ reactions.
None was willing to be the first to indulge him in sharing any thoughts on the matter or perhaps they were still busy analyzing the implications of what he had revealed.
Each of the Six had pursued routes to super-intelligence without using self-replicating lattice nanotechnology. Most had directed the evolution of their people through breeding or engineering to achieve the first steps on the path to godhood. Only Depchaun’s people had jumped directly to machine intelligences as their first step.
“When I confront Alum to negotiate a new way forward,” Darak continued, “I will not be alone. I will have billions of enhanced minds linked to that conversation. If Alum stubbornly insists on destruction of the universe, He will have to carry it out before billions of His own people.”
“Oh, the shame! The shame!” Lyv wailed theatrically. “And you expect this to change His mind? From the stories you’ve relayed, I’d say Alum has little regard for the people of His Realm.”
“No, I don’t expect that conversation to change His mind. I expect Him to push forward with what He sees as His superior wisdom,” Darak answered calmly.
“But I also expect His fierce determination will trigger strong backlash and further rebellion throughout the Realm. I expect a number of planets will sever ties with Him entirely. It will be from those planets I recruit a larger resistance force.”
Raytansoh’s voice cut through the murmur of objections.
“Ah, so you agree. Forcible resistance will be necessary in the end. Why not just bypass the prelude and leap straight to the inevitable?”
Darak still wasn’t used to hearing contributions of any sort from Raytansoh. He wished the strange creature would’ve remained quiet a little longer.
“I’m sure you can agree that some things need to play out properly in order to evolve along a course. It is possible that Alum can be convinced through conversation with His own people. It is possible that we can avoid a devastating war.”
“But not likely,” Raytansoh prodded.
“No, not likely,” Darak admitted.
“Exactly how unlikely, would you say?”
“I calculate the chances of avoidance of direct physical involvement at less than seventeen percent.”
Raytansoh’s many tentacles churned the liquid in his tank. “You would expend so much effort for such a low probability of success?”
“But the chance is very real,” Darak countered. “It cannot be ignored. Especially if it saves us from outright war.”
“Pah!” Glenchax jumped in. “Lead us to where Alum lives and we will reduce the probability of deplosion to zero.”
He turned and addressed Darya directly.
“Darak has no stomach for war, no matter how justified. I sense you may be made of sterner stuff.”
His voice lowered and practically slithered across the Hall of Thrones. “Perhaps we should make our own plans?”
“I...I don’t know if...,” Darya stuttered.
She didn’t like Glenchax, and she didn’t like that the other Gods were arguing with Darak. Not just disagreeing. Arguing.
She fidgeted, reacting to some instinctive discomfort. Has Darak been protecting our Realm from the aggression of these other Gods’ all this time?—she wondered
Darak walked back between the two Cybrids and laid his hands on their cerametallic shells.
“Darya, Mary, and Brother Stralasi are here in an advisory capacity so that we may all understand one another better.”
As he spoke, he silently transmitted through ports on their surface, “Activate defensive absorbers and be prepared to leave.”
“Two machines and yet another human without the convictions that necessity demands,” Depchaun muttered and drifted forward from his throne.
Lyv, Glenchax, and Ki-tan-la all stood and moved forward at the same time. Ishtgor’s balloon-shape floated toward the center of the hall with them. Only Raytansoh, rapt with attention at the edge of his tank, remained on his throne.
Stralasi retreated from the menacing deities and sought the spot where Darak and the Cybrids had first appeared.
Five of the Gods converged in the centre of the hall. They turned in unison and faced the representatives from the Realm.
“It is surprising,” Depchaun said, “that one as ruthless as Alum arose from among the humans. However, listening to you speak, it is not surprising that He came to dominate your Realm.
“Our experience tells us that ruthlessness must be met with ruthlessness. If we threatened one of yours as Alum threatens all of us, you would see
the wisdom in this.
“A demonstration!” he called out. On the final syllable, matter-antimatter disrupting fields sprung up around Darya and Mary. The two Cybrids dropped for a fraction of a millisecond, before Darak swept the fields away.
Brother Stralasi visibly thinned as his matter threatened to depart Darak’s custom universe. Darak turned his attention to the monk, who happily solidified.
The five Gods wasted no time in launching attacks directly on Darak. Parts of him expanded and parts contracted as the Gods changed the local laws governing electron orbitals in different parts of his body.
His arm erupted in fire at the same time as his head appeared to be immersed in liquid. Beams of dazzling light, invisible coherent radiation, and deadly exotic energies sprung from the six Gods and struck the man-God. Even Raytansoh, still inside the tank of water on his throne, blasted Darak with a volley of hyper-accelerated alpha-like particles.
Darak shifted into the middle of the Gods, assuming the form of the Angel Gabriel. His sword, pulled from the scabbard between his wings, flashed and slashed through the Gods, severing limbs and rending bodies.
Only Depchaun had enough time to run. He flickered from one edge of the Hall of Thrones to another and another, laughing maniacally until Darak finally caught him and silenced the cackling.
Mere seconds after they’d begun their assault, the bodies of the Aspects of the Gods lay motionless on the floor, leaking bodily fluids or sputtering tiny sparks. Raytansoh’s Aspect floated in shreds in his tank.
Darak stood in their midst, a mere man again, torn between anger and shame. He waved a hand and the tattered bodies disappeared.
The comm lights over the thrones now pulsed yellow. Darak walked slowly back to his end of the Hall, deep in thought. He waved a hand, and six charcoal gray avatars resumed their usual positions on their respective thrones. The comm lights all shone green above them.
“As you can see,” Depchaun spoke as if nothing had happened since his last words, “even you will resort to violence should you or your people be directly threatened. Imminent death leads inevitably to aggression, as it must. It is the way of survival.”