Mobius

by Vincent Vale

  “At first, the Fume’s beasts were easily killed. Then, they began to change, adapting their cellular composition to absorb the energy of our weapons. They are a versatile creation. I was able to examine one earlier in the battle.”

  JarNay displayed a three dimensional hologram of one of the Fume’s beasts. The computer highlighted the silver nano-fibers that ran through the beast like a second nervous system.

  “This network of nano-fibers is how the beasts are able to transform. When the beast wishes to change, molecular instructions are sent through the nano-fiber system to every cell in its body. The necessary metabolism for such transformation is powered by radioactive isotopes infused in the DNA of the beast. But this ability to adapt was only part of their victory. Only when they gained access to the compendium and its vast data were we doomed. They were then able to construct weapons capable of disabling the Guardian’s armor and pushing their transportation carapaces out of dimensional concealment, thus immobilizing the Guardians.”

  I fell into a nearby chair and sat thinking. I looked to JarNay stoically. “The people of the Brahman Sprawl have had millions of years to ponder the human condition, to explore the meaning of existence. What do you know of the human soul?”

  “The human soul?” JarNay shook her head. “You’re free to access the compendium on religion in the Brahman Sprawl. Death is still the bane of human existence. Such beliefs are still prevalent in calming the fear of the unknown.”

  “No,” I said. “I don’t seek faith or fairytales. I seek scientific proof of the soul.”

  “If such an inner force exists, it has yet to be discovered, even after twenty-one million years of human existence. Why do you ask such a thing, especially now?”

  “The human soul is the reason the Fume manipulates humankind.”

  JarNay’s eyes lit up. “You’ve discovered the Fume’s motives?”

  “We have. And this is the reason we seek an Impresario. We had hoped someone in the Brahman Sprawl could utilize this knowledge.”

  “Please,” said JarNay eagerly. “Tell me what you know.”

  I stood up and began pacing the room. “First, you must know that the temporal displacement of the Brahman Station and the evolution of humankind in the Brahman Sprawl didn’t happen by accident. Everything has unfolded as the Fume planned.”

  “Why would he want this?”

  “The Fume claims that it’s the people of the Brahman Sprawl he now manipulates.”

  “How? To what end?”

  “He’s planning to use the souls of the Brahman descendents to birth a god, a being of the same exotic energy as himself. It’ll be the end of the universe as we know it. All the energy of the universe will be transformed into this god. The Fume will then be able to cannibalize its divine energies.”

  “I’m speechless,” said JarNay. “The truth has surpassed the wildest speculations of the past.” Her eyes gleamed with wonder. “What is the soul? How can the souls of all humankind birth a god?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “But the Fume said some things that resonated deep within me. He said the soul connects the consciousness to the very fabric of the universe. He said the soul is a level of organization that goes beyond the tangible. He said the soul is the precursor to godliness.”

  JarNay leaped in front of the compendium. “I’m struck by inspiration. It may be possible to modify a transportation carapace to function like an archway, but it’ll only allow a single trip.”

  “How do we choose our destination?” said Orsteen. “With the Fume’s beastly minions on their way to the other Guardian Spheres, there’s no telling which sphere has an Impresario who still lives.”

  “Instead of finding an Impresario, you’ll find Nara-Narayana herself. This information is far too important for anyone else.”

  I shook my head with uncertainty. “From what Stimple has told us, Nara-Narayana isn’t one to be located—if she exists at all.”

  “Few people can attest with confidence that Nara-Narayana is indeed a genuine entity. Fortunately, I’m one of the privileged few.”

  “Then you’ll send us directly to her?”

  “No, I don’t know her location. But I’ll send you to the only living Guardian who knows how to find her.”

  “Very well,” I said. “But you must hurry with your modifications. Our companion, Morion Morpheme, has been keeping one of the Fume’s goliath beasts occupied. There’s no telling how long he’ll stay ahead of the game.”

  JarNay nodded, acknowledging the urgency of the situation. “First, one of you must volunteer to receive the quantum control plexus at the base of your biolinguistic lobe.”

  I raised a sarcastic eyebrow. “I thought us lowly double-helixes couldn’t think in tandem with a quantum control plexus.”

  “That’s why I’m programming it to resonate with the proper coordinates to guide the transportation carapace.”

  I stepped forward. “You can implant me.”

  “It may take a few minutes to construct a properly calibrated quantum control plexus,” said JarNay. “Orsteen, you should stand guard at the front door, in case the Fume’s beast returns.”

  “Can do,” said Orsteen, who left the room with Stimple on his shoulder.

  As JarNay worked at a console, inputting the specifications of her design, I laid stomach-down on the table, preparing myself for the procedure.

  “It’s ready,” said JarNay, removing a red glowing node from a chamber. She then retrieved a sliver of metal from the counter. “Using this probe I’ll insert the quantum control plexus through the back of your skull. During the process, I recommend you calm your body and mind.” JarNay put on an ocular device. “It’ll take a moment to analyze the pathways of your brain and biolinguistic lobe to determine the exact placement of the quantum control plexus.”

  JarNay applied an anesthetic and began. I felt a large pressure in my head as JarNay pushed the probe into my brain.

  “It’s done,” said JarNay. “The quantum control plexus will automatically establish the proper neural linkages. I must now tend to the modifications of the transportation carapace.”

  “Are you coming with us?” I asked.

  “It’ll be best if I remain here, since there’s no one of authority left on this sphere.”

  “Then you should tell me about our destination.”

  “The world’s called Fallgate,” said JarNay, continuing to work on the transportation carapace. “It’s in the Crux Galaxy and sits among a cluster of backwater worlds spaced many light years apart. Due to the moral decay of this region, as well as the general acceptance of a lawless society, there are no dimensional archways by mandate of the Guardian Army. However, these planets do command the use of spaceships, thus there’s trade done between them. Since each of these worlds has maintained their own unique physiology, you won’t be met as oddities regarding your appearance.

  “Once you arrive, you must seek out a Guardian named Fanbert Manderwall. He’s worked many years as an observer on this planet, and maintains residence in the port city Neubius. Though he won’t look it, he’s very old. Such a post is considered his retirement, for there was little chance that anyone in this technologically primitive region would ever gain the means to contact Earth or the Fume. Not to mention the fact that these planets have long since forgotten the truth of the Fume and the temporal displacement of the Brahman Station. In all likelihood, they’ve evolved their own fictitious account of their origins. Keep this in mind when you’re locating Fanbert and come into contact with the local inhabitants.”

  “And when we find this Fanbert Manderwall, what do we tell him?”

  “Speak my name, and tell him you seek the forgotten world where the Prophets sleep. Inform him their waking is overdue.”

  “These Prophets can lead us to Nara-Narayana?”

  “Indeed. They’re the only beings in the Brahman Sprawl who know her location.” JarNay put the final touches on the transportation carapace. “My modification
s are complete, but I must warn you, you may find yourself in the cold darkness of space. These modifications are the best I could do in such little time.”

  “I understand,” I said. “Your best is good enough for me.”

  JarNay touched the transportation carapace. “You and your company need only to gather around the unit and trigger this switch. Now, let me confirm that the quantum control plexus successfully melded with your brain.” She again put on her ocular device, which made a fuss of noise. “Strange.”

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “Your brain... it’s being pervaded by filaments of energy. From what my oculars can perceive, the filaments are lengthening at a rate of one one-hundredth of a millimeter an hour. They’ve just recently found their way to your new biolinguistic lobe.” JarNay went to the compendium. “It’s impossible!”

  “Tell me what you’ve discovered!” I demanded. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  JarNay’s slight figure became rigid. Her findings, whatever their significance, seemed to have dissolved any trust I had thus far gained from her. She was on the verge of calling for help.

  I sprang to my feet and seized her by the arms. “What frightens you?”

  “You’re seeded with the Fume’s exotic energy. And this I can’t explain, since the Fume cannot manifest himself beyond the realm of his outpocketings in our universe. It would be no different if I cut out a piece of my brain, cast it into the ocean, and expected it to return with the secrets of the deep. A mind, no matter its nature, must remain whole in order to function properly.”

  “I promise you, I’m not the Fume. I’m Theron Mobius.”

  “Promises are uttered by desperate men and liars.”

  I remembered when I asked the Fume why I was burdened with his memories. The Fume had replied: ‘There’s some of me in you.’ He was speaking quite literally. The memories were now explained. I felt a great anxiety.

  The Fume’s inside me. Like a disease, I’m infected. I repeated my mantra in silence: I am Theron Mobius. I am myself. My mind is my center...

  “Get it out of me! Please!”

  JarNay pulled away from me. “Stand back!”

  “Won’t you help me?”

  “Help? How?”

  “You have devices that can send people across the universe with a thought. You’ve built ships the size of planets. You have twenty-one million years of technology and you can’t help me? I’m just one man with something in his head.”

  “Those are usually the most dangerous of men. You’re now the enemy.” JarNay started to call out.

  I grabbed her, pressing my hand tightly on her mouth. She struggled, but I contained her. “I’m sorry. I won’t hurt you.” I dragged her to a back room, where I found an empty stasis chamber. I pushed her inside and shut the door. My fingers hit random buttons, apparently a successful combination since JarNay became still. “Forgive me.”

  As I considered how to deal with the others, Orsteen entered the room with Morion limp in his arms. Orsteen set him on the table.

  “We discovered him a ways down the boulevard, collapsed from exhaustion. He’s not hurt.”

  Morion came to his senses. “I defeated the beast, Theron.”

  “You’ve done well,” I said.

  Morion drew a long breath and stood. “Despite my triumph, we shouldn’t remain here. The clamor of our battle no doubt echoed throughout the corridors of the Guardian Sphere. It was such a battle that if I mentioned the details, you might think I was prone to embellishments and self-glorifications.”

  “A true hero is always humble,” I said impatiently. “As for our departure, everything’s ready. We should leave immediately.”

  Orsteen retrieved three bags from the hallway and handed them out. “I found weapons for our trip.”

  “Well done,” I said.

  Stimple walked into the room and looked around curiously. “Where’s JarNay?”

  I didn’t know what to say. “Uh... she said something about disabling the dimensional archways in the Antechamber, so to stop the migration of the Fume’s beasts to the other Guardian Spheres. She was confident in her plan and, citing time as an issue, left through a back passageway. Before she left, she wished us luck on our journey. So, let’s go.”

  I stood beside the transportation carapace and was joined by all but Stimple, who spoke: “A person of my unique characteristics doesn’t do well in remote lands. I’ll stay here, where the surroundings are to my advantage, in that I know all the best hiding places.”

  “Take care, little man,” I said, glancing nervously toward the back room.

  “Do me a favor,” said Stimple. “Get revenge for Fandoral’s murder.”

  “We’ll do our best,” I replied sincerely. In a gesture of farewell, I extended a finger.

  Stimple placed his tiny hand upon it. “Goodbye, Theron Mobius.”

  CELESTIAL

  PHENOMENON

  We found ourselves on the world Fallgate, in the middle of a junkyard. The wrecks of old spaceships were scattered around us like the giant skeletons of old sea monsters.

  “Amazing,” I said. “I’ll never get tired of dimensional travel. I still don’t know why I can perceive the journey and the two of you can’t.”

  “For me, it was again instantaneous,” said Orsteen. “Across the universe in the blink of an eye.”

  I looked skyward and saw a monolithic construct floating in low orbit—a space station of breathtaking proportions.

  “Beautiful,” I said.

  Orsteen glanced to the surrounding hulks. “Probably built to escape a devastated planet.”

  I removed a scanner from the supply pack Orsteen retrieved from the armory. I couldn’t get it to work until I realized it was voice activated.

  “Are the surroundings safe?” I asked.

  The scanner responded: “Ambient radiation levels are safe. The atmosphere is breathable for common double-helix species.”

  “I’m becoming tired of these double-helix stereotypes,” said Morion. “Even the computers are racist.”

  The scanner continued: “There is an unidentifiable energy signature a half-kilometer ahead.”

  We moved forward and discovered a pipeline of flowing liquid hovering twenty feet off the ground. The fluid was contained by a tubular energy-field being emitted from rings spaced every hundred feet. I asked the scanner to identify the liquid.

  “The fluid in question is ninety-nine percent deuterium,” replied the scanner.

  “Where’s the port city Neubius?”

  “My database does not include topographical information for this planet.”

  Orsteen threw a piece of metal debris at the pipeline. It vaporized on contact with the energy field. “Spaceships need deuterium. Let’s follow the flow of the pipeline.”

  “Agreed,” I said. “First, help me hide the transportation carapace under that pile of garbage.”

  We moved forward with determination, only occasionally slowing our pace to allow Morion to catch his breath. Darkness soon fell and stars blossomed in the sky. We came upon a small shack built from the hull panels of old spaceships.

  “It appears to be abandoned,” said Morion. “Let’s rest for the night. I can’t go any farther.”

  “Not so fast,” I said, noticing a wisp of smoke coming from a metal chimney. I inhaled deeply. “Someone’s cooking their evening meal inside.”

  Orsteen put a hand on his belly. “A bite of food would be nice.”

  “You can’t be serious?” I said.

  Orsteen shrugged his shoulders. “What’s the harm in asking?”

  As we contemplated the thought, the front door creaked open to expose the silhouette of an oddly-shaped man. Between bowed legs drooped two plump buttocks, giving the man an unwieldy, underslung appearance.

  “Who are you?” called out the man. “Why do you loiter at my doorstep?”

  “I apologize,” I said. “We’re travelers in need of shelter and food.”

/>   “Come closer, so I may be certain you’re not rogues.” We did so and the man carefully examined us. “You’re off-worlders?”

  “We are,” I responded.

  “Excellent! I’m always willing to accommodate off-worlders. Your timing is perfect. I’ve just prepared a sumptuous meal. It’ll now be in your honor. Come, join me.”

  Morion moved forward excitedly. “I didn’t expect such hospitality, considering the rumors of lawlessness on this world.”

  I grabbed Morion, bringing him to a halt.

  “What are you thinking?” exclaimed Morion. “Release me!”

  “There’s a blade concealed behind his forearm,” I whispered. “It glistens under the starlight.” I turned to the man who eagerly awaited us. “On second thought, we should continue to our destination. Can you direct us to the port city Neubius?”

  “It’s bad judgment to travel tonight. There’s no moon to protect you from lurking cockatrices and rotmouth chimeras. Moreover, a strange celestial phenomenon hangs in the sky like a phantom.” The man pointed to the sky, where a glowing haze was barely noticeable.

  I tilted my head up. “It looks like a nearby nebula, nothing more.”

  “So it wants you to believe. Come, you’d be safer inside. As will those overstuffed bags that hang on your backs.”

  “We’ll take our chances,” I said.

  The man responded with a snarl and disappeared within the shack, slamming the door shut.

  Disappointed, we continued following the pipeline. An hour had passed when Orsteen pointed up at the stars with excitement.

  “Do you see them!”

  I looked into the sky and noticed what seemed to be an occasional star descending. “Ships! Your instincts to follow the flow of deuterium were right, Orsteen. Judging the distance, it should take us a half-day to get there.”

  During our travels, I found Morion at a standstill, looking off into an oasis of trees, appraising something in silence.

  Orsteen and I joined him.

  “What are you looking at?” I asked.

  Morion pointed among the trees and I spotted a young girl tied to a tree trunk. At first, she appeared dead, but soon enlivened, struggling against her bonds and screaming for help.