Mobius

by Vincent Vale

  “And somehow the soul of man will lead to the final evolution of the universe, in which all energies will transform into a single consciousness?” I paused. “The birth of a god?”

  The Fume nodded in confirmation. “And when this godly evolution is complete, I’ll absorb these divine energies—they will become a part of me.”

  “If my understanding’s correct, there’ll be no survivors after this evolution—except you.”

  “The individuality of each creature in this universe is inconsequential. They are but the cogs of a greater device. If it brings you any comfort, their essences will survive in me.”

  “Essence and life, although interconnected, seem two very different states.”

  “Such discriminations are pointless in the grand order.”

  “You reveal your plans with such arrogance. I can only wonder if you’re simply bluffing, trying to distract from the damage caused by the Obelisks and the Guardian Army.” I paused. “They won’t allow you to succeed.”

  The Fume tilted his head back and laughed heartily. “I’ll admit, they’ve proven to be a nuisance, for they’re a willful evolution. But they’re naïve to think they could stop me. And even more naïve to believe I was unaware of their existence.”

  “You knew of this attack?”

  “Don’t forget who you’re speaking to. Of course I knew.”

  I shrugged. “Nonetheless, the mere fact that your sabotage of the Brahman Station went wrong is proof that your manipulations aren’t perfect.”

  “Are you sure it went wrong?” The Fume inclined his nose ever so slightly. “Time is simply another instrument for me to utilize in my endeavor.”

  “You’re aware of the over one million worlds spread among the thousands of galaxies in the Brahman Sprawl?”

  “These worlds and their inhabitants are all a fundamental necessity for the final evolution of the universe. As for the worlds I surround, the worlds the Guardians attempt to free, they don’t matter anymore. Their usefulness has passed. It’s the descendents of the Brahman Station who I now manipulate.”

  “If you have everything under control, then why have you sent your army of beasts to kill us?”

  “There are reasons for everything I do. Every wave of my hand holds significance.”

  I could somehow sense something like insecurity from the Fume—a stray twitch of the mouth, an uncontrollable blink of the eye, a spasm of the eyebrows, or possibly an imperceptible quiver in his voice.

  “So, how does this proceed?” I asked. “What are the steps to this final evolution?”

  “A magician doesn’t reveal his secrets to every inquisitive fool. I am, however, disappointed that you haven’t realized the plans I’ve orchestrated. The answers sit at the tip of your mind.”

  I compressed my lips into a thin line. “Then at least tell me when this Apotheosis of the Universe is going to begin.”

  The Fume smirked. “Soon enough.”

  “Why do you dangle your motives before me? What do you want from me?”

  “You’ve already done great things for my cause—however, there’s more to be done, and you’re just the man for the job.”

  “Tell me! Now! What do you want?”

  “As I said before, I only want you to continue on the path of your destiny. This is all.”

  “Destiny!” I scoffed. “Whatever you’ve done to me, whatever you think I’m going to do, you can go fuck yourself. I’d sooner kill myself than let you win.”

  “I doubt this very much.” The Fume reached out to me, as if to touch my cheek with a holographic hand. I stood my ground, but soon found myself lunging backward as I thought the hand had substance.

  “Why do you haunt me?” I clutched my head in my hands, thinking back on the torturous memories and the plague of unrest.

  If the Brahman Station’s temporal displacement was, in fact, premeditated, then was it the Fume’s manipulation on my mind that motivated me to build the dimensional gateway? Does he really control me this much? Where does he end... and I begin?

  “What have you put inside me? I just want to find peace.” I aimed my Intersplit gun to my head. “I’m tired, you know.”

  “If you believe your death will stop my plans, then carry out your suicide. Though, as a consequence, there’ll be no one left to rescue your dear Allienora.”

  I lowered my Intersplit gun. “What are you talking about?”

  “While we’ve been debating the fate of your universe, I’ve informed my loyal soldiers—who aren’t the brutes you perceive them to be—to capture Allienora Chang. I believe she’s become the object of your affection.”

  “Damn you!” My heart pounded.

  “So,” said the Fume, “do you kill yourself to possibly save your universe, and condemn your new love to death, or shall you continue on in an attempt to save your universe and allow yourself the chance to rescue her?”

  I struggled with the choices the Fume presented, and their equally damning possibilities. “Do you pleasure in my suffering? First you killed Mage, then my wife Cassandra, and now you take Allienora from me. Why!”

  “Like you, Theron, she has a special purpose in my plans.”

  My fists clenched, my heart raced. “I know you killed my wife so I’d work harder on the dimensional gateway. Is it the same with Allienora? Are you trying to manipulate me into doing something? What is it? What do you want me to do?”

  “I only want you to follow the path of your destiny.”

  Without warning, Orsteen smashed his fist into the node that projected the hologram of the Fume’s embodiment, ending the transmission.

  “What have you done!” I cried.

  “You’re right,” said Orsteen. “He’s luring us to go somewhere or do something. His words have the power to persuade. They may even distort our perceptions of reality.”

  “This is insane, Orsteen!” I felt my eyes bulging from my head. “Why take Allienora from me? What purpose does she serve in his outlandish plot? Hell, what purpose do I hold in his plot? How can he predict what I’m going to do? Am I so much his pawn that he can send me off wildly and still maintain confidence I’ll do his bidding and achieve this false destiny, whatever it may be?”

  “He admitted two important things,” said Orsteen. “First, he doesn’t control minds, and second, each of us has a soul. And I believe the soul is what gives us the ability to create our own destinies. He can’t anticipate each fickle current of thought flowing through your head.”

  “You’re right, Orsteen. I am Theron Mobius. I am myself. My mind is my center.”

  “Calm down, Theron. You’re head’s going to pop if you don’t.”

  “I’m conscious of my thoughts, who I am, and what I’m doing. And I have you, my friend. You’ll make sure I don’t do anything crazy. You’ll make sure I don’t betray the human race. If my behavior changes, do whatever it takes to stop me.”

  “I promise you, Theron. If you turn on us, I won’t hesitate.”

  I knelt beside Fandoral’s body, where Stimple still mourned with heavy-heartedness.

  Stimple lifted his head from Fandoral’s chest. “There are procedures for such emergencies. I tried calling the proper medical authorities, but waited to no end. I tried to contact a Guardian, but no one responded.”

  I looked to Fandoral’s remains. “Nothing could’ve been done.”

  “You’re wrong! All injuries can be healed, even fresh fatality, so long as the brain is preserved.” Stimple shook his head hopelessly. “It’s been days, and by now his brain’s stricken with decay.” Stimple lifted his small hands and shook them angrily. “If I weren’t the useless homunculus I am, I could’ve saved him. Do you see that chamber in the corner of the room? That’s Fandoral’s stasis chamber. If I were a man of sufficient stature, I could’ve simply carried him three meters and his life would’ve been saved.”

  “If you were of greater stature, you would’ve been killed, too.”

  “So it should have been,” co
untered Stimple.

  “In life, loved ones can be taken from us wrongfully. I’ve felt this pain. Luckily, it’s in our power to treat ourselves to justice, or, if so desired, revenge. We need your help, Stimple.”

  Stimple looked to me, inhaled deeply, and regained his composure. “The Fume spoke to you with false confidence. Before Fandoral was killed, he was in communication with the other Guardian Spheres and discovered the Obelisks are fully functional on the other planets, successfully sealing the outpocketings of the Fume. Earth is the only planet where the Fume still has an outpocketing into our universe.”

  I remembered the girl, Nara-Narayana. “After the failure of the Obelisks on Earth, Fandoral said he was going to consult with Nara-Narayana. We must contact her at once and let her know of the Fume’s plans to evolve and then absorb the energies of the universe. She could be our best hope.”

  “Impossible,” said Stimple. “Only Guardians and Impresarios are permitted to communicate with Nara-Narayana.”

  “You were Fandoral’s best friend,” I said. “You don’t know how he contacted her?”

  Stimple shook his head.

  “What do you know about her?” asked Orsteen.

  “All I know is what I’ve heard from rumor and fable. As you saw from Sensimion’s log, Nara-Narayana is the first and eldest of all the Guardians in the Brahman Sprawl. They say her genome is a hundred times more complex than a deca-helix species. Her creation was the most critical step in preventing paradox, for she can see and hear all that occurs in the Brahman Sprawl.”

  “How does she monitor the entire Brahman Sprawl?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. If you believe in children’s bedtime stories, then you’d fear her ability to hear every immoral thought that roams in your head. It’s said that if she’s displeased with your thoughts, she’ll stop your heart when you sleep.”

  “If you can’t contact her, then I assume you don’t know where she is.”

  Stimple placed his small hand on Fandoral’s chest. “Not even the Impresarios know where she’s kept.”

  “Then we must contact another Impresario to relay this information to Nara-Narayana.”

  “We’ll tell everyone.” Stimple gently removed himself from Fandoral’s chest, crossed the room, and climbed up the side of a desk with a small ladder. There, he manipulated a control panel, causing an iris to open at the floor. A translucent orb displaying a face rose out of it.

  The One Voice of the Guardian Sphere spoke: “How may I help you, Stimple?”

  “Open communication with every Guardian Sphere. I wish to send out a general communication to everyone.”

  “I’m sorry, Stimple, but you no longer have permission to utilize the trans-dimensional Guardian network.”

  “What do you mean?” replied Stimple.

  “All authorizations have been revoked.”

  “By who?”

  “By the new Impresario of this Sphere.”

  “Who’s that?” I asked.

  “I believe you were just speaking to him,” said the One Voice of the Sphere.

  I lifted my Intersplit gun to the orb and fired, shattering it into pieces.

  “This is worse than I thought,” said Stimple. “The Fume has corrupted the One Voice of the Sphere. You’ll have to travel to another Guardian Sphere by means of a transportation archway, and relay your message in person. If you give me a ride on your shoulder, I’ll lead you to the Antechamber, where the restricted dimensional archways are secured.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” I said. “But, first, we need to return to Bardio’s bungalow and find out about Allienora. Maybe she escaped the Fume’s beasts. We also need to check on Morion Morpheme. If he’s alive, we can’t abandon him, no matter how intolerable he’s proven to be.”

  I flew Fandoral’s air-car through the forest channel, trying to evade detection.

  “These black beasts are obviously in close communication with the Fume,” I said. “We can’t be spotted by them.”

  Orsteen looked down at the passing landscape. “I haven’t seen one in a while. It’s strange, considering there were thousands roaming the forest channels less than three weeks ago.”

  We returned to the swamp and I saw the great tree that housed Bardio’s bungalow. I flew the craft down. As we descended, I saw a figure ten meters from the bungalow, squatting and hunch-backed, hands groping in the soft mud of the swampland. As the craft neared the ground, I could see it was Morion. He’d yet to notice our descent and jerked a clenched fist from the depths of the swamp mud. With a deranged grin of satisfaction, he examined a plump white grub wriggling in his grip. Without hesitation, he stuffed it in his mouth.

  With Stimple on my shoulder, I got out of the craft and approached Morion. Morion turned and presented us with two cow-eyes, continuing to chew slowly.

  “Where’s Allienora?” I asked, fearing his response.

  Morion stopped chewing and blinked. “We depleted our food reserves, and Allienora insisted I was to blame. She said I ate more than I required. She then wanted me, Morion Morpheme, to wander into the pale murk of the swamp and hunt swamp weasels. I informed her I wasn’t bred to perform such drudgery. I recommended Bardio for the task, but he’s as worthless as a pile of entrails. I then recommended that she take on the responsibility. In a brooding silence, she suited up and marched into the swamp. And as you can see, she has yet to return, leaving me no choice but to degrade my dignity and root through the mud for grubs like a mongrel.”

  I grabbed Morion by the throat, enraged. “You’ve outdone yourself, Morion Morpheme. You’re a thoughtless coward. How could you let Allienora wander off into the swamp, with the sphere overrun by black beasts?”

  Morion squeezed rasping words through his constricted airway: “I’m not her keeper, and she’s not a child.”

  I released Morion and he fell into the mud.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, offering him a hand. “I’m angry, confused. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  Morion took my hand and I pulled him up.

  Orsteen approached. “Have you spotted any beasts lately, Morion? Or heard any noises from the swamp?”

  “No beasts,” said Morion, rubbing his neck. “There was a scattering of birds early this morning, but I gave little thought to it. And last night, while I slept, I heard a frightening howl that filled the darkness. It caused me to shrink deep under my covers.”

  We searched around the bungalow, looking for any traces of struggle. I called desperately into the swamp, but my words fell flat on the dense vegetation.

  After a few hours of searching, Orsteen stopped me. “It’s no use, Theron. She’s gone.”

  “She’s smart. She could’ve eluded them. Maybe she’s hiding.” I turned back to the swamp.

  “Look at me,” said Orsteen. “You must accept this. We must move forward.”

  “Fucking hell!” I chewed on my tongue nervously. I could feel tears welling in my eyes. “Let’s say goodbye to Bardio.”

  Bardio sat on a bucket next to his wife’s grave, sipping from a cylinder of Aqua Vita and mumbling. He didn’t seem to notice our approach.

  I handed him an Intersplit gun. “Find strength, Bardio. You’ll have to eat.”

  “Why? What’s left?”

  “Dignity, respect... her memory. Let her live on in you.”

  Bardio reluctantly grabbed the weapon from me. “Find your girl, Theron. Don’t ever give up. Happiness is a hard thing to lose.”

  I nodded and thought, I’ve lost it more than once.

  As we left, Morion pulled me aside. “I’m sorry about Allienora. I can be selfish now and again, or most of the time, if not all the time. I realize that a selfish man is a lonely man. If you can forgive me, I’ll do my best to change.”

  “I forgive you, Morion.” I looked into the far distance. “Hopefully we can all find change very soon.”

  QUANTUM

  CONTROL PLEXUS

  “I’ll drive,” said Stimple, jumping to the fr
ont of the air-car. The controls reconfigured around him, accommodating his small size. The energy shield activated around the craft and we sped out into the forest channel.

  I looked back to the swamp, desperate to see Allienora hiding among the trees. She was nowhere in sight.

  I turned to Stimple. “Where are we headed?”

  “To the forbidden realm of the Guardian Army. There we’ll find the Antechamber, where the restricted dimensional archways are secured.”

  To my surprise we returned to Central City. “The realm of the Guardian Army is in Central City?”

  “Look closer,” said Stimple.

  He manipulated the air-car’s controls and a filter was applied to the front window. A giant floating structure appeared like a ghostly vision. It was out of phase like the Obelisks that landed on Earth. It was huge—its mass enveloped all of Central City.

  “You people do things differently,” said Orsteen.

  Stimple smiled. “A city beneath a city.”

  “How do you do it?” I asked.

  “It’s the same technology developed by Sensimion to conceal the Guardian’s dimensional transporters. It’s a matter of transforming a few of the lesser eighteen dimensions into clones of the three prime dimensions.”

  Morion leaned forward. “You can get us inside this hidden realm, little man?”

  “I may be as useless as a placenta after birth, but I’m older than most in this Guardian Sphere, and I’ve acquired several privileges throughout the millennia.” Stimple yanked open his shirt, exposing his small chest. A glowing ring was embedded in his skin.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “It’s the key to the kingdom,” said Stimple proudly. “Fandoral entrusted me with it a long time ago.”

  Stimple ran his finger along the circumference of the glowing ring and something began to materialize in front of the air-car. Before us floated a magnificently crafted portal—a circular dimensional gateway floating in air. At its apex was the body of a majestic bird, its wings drooping down to form the ring of the portal. It gazed forth with frightening intensity. It felt like it was judging me, scrutinizing my worthiness as we prepared to pass into the sanctuary of its sprawled wings.