Mobius
Page 30
“Will this take long?” I asked. “Time is a noose around our necks, constricting tighter with every passing second.”
The Prophet opened his eyes. “It might take a while.”
“Can you speak during the process?”
“I can, but at any moment my biolinguistic lobe may fail, in which case, you won’t be able to understand me. If this occurs, I’ll probably die.”
“Then immediately tell us about Nara-Narayana and the Fume’s plans to birth a god from the souls of humankind.” I looked at the Prophet’s protruding brain matter and saw it undulate. “And what exactly have you done to your biolinguistic lobe that needs undoing?”
“I’ll start at the beginning, twenty-one million years ago, when the first world, Brahman, was colonized by the survivors of the Brahman Station.” The Prophet paused, as if coping with a surge of pain. “After two millennia, Brahman became a thriving world of high spirits and great minds. And, like their ancestors of the Terran star, the adventurer within their human souls awakened. They yearned to travel the stars and discover new worlds.
“The threat of paradox, however, hung rich on the minds of scientists, philosophers, and laymen alike. And for this reason they established the Guardian Army. But they soon realized that even the greatest army wouldn’t be sufficient to monitor over twenty-one million years of human expansion into the universe. There would be too many worlds, too many people, and too many possibilities. Paradox could be caused by even the slightest contact with the Terran solar system or any of the seven galaxies inhabited by the Fume.
“To appease these concerns, a great thinker named Sensimion created Nara-Narayana—an incorruptible entity who would serve as the leader of the Guardian Army. She was engineered with a genome beyond any deca-helix species that has ever existed. But the true nature of Nara-Narayana, the true depth of her power and awareness over the Brahman Sprawl, is undeniably the greatest secret in the human universe.” The Prophet was again struck to silence.
“Are you all right?” I asked.
“I’ll be fine.” The Prophet continued his story: “The secret that’s been kept from all who’ve lived in the Brahman Sprawl has to do with the architecture that allows Nara-Narayana to monitor them.” The Prophet again paused.
“What architecture?” said Fanbert. “What do you mean?”
“Before anyone from Brahman was allowed to use the dimensional gateway technology to travel beyond that first planet, Sensimion released a virus into the population. Once it entered a host, it induced a genetic alteration, causing the next generation to be born with biolinguistic lobes. No one but Sensimion was aware of this genetic alteration. It was eventually believed that the biolinguistic lobe was a miracle of evolution, allowing human races to understand each other on a psychic level, thus eliminating any language barriers. But this was only a side effect. The true purpose of the biolinguistic lobe was to connect the thoughts of every human in the Brahman Sprawl to Nara-Narayana. In effect, she was created to be a nexus of thought for all humankind. We’re all connected to her. She’s the ultimate Guardian, able to hear the thoughts of the one quadrillion people inhabiting the Brahman Sprawl. She’s a demigod to humankind.”
“My god!” said Fanbert. “Such a feat of biological technology would be a challenge now—even more so twenty-one million years ago.”
I touched the back of my head. “Can she hear my thoughts now?”
“She can hear the thoughts of everyone,” said the Prophet.
Fanbert made a distant look. “This is how she ruled over the Guardian Army. This is how she prevented a paradox.”
The Prophet looked at us ominously. “The creation of Nara-Narayana did prevent paradox, but at the cost of falling victim to the Fume’s ultimate plan. Fanbert, you’re correct in your impression of the level of biological technology required to create Nara-Narayana and the biolinguistic lobes. For it was, in fact, the Fume who planted the design of Nara-Narayana’s architecture into the mind of that great scientist, Sensimion, who ultimately created her.”
I couldn’t believe it. Sensimion had also been manipulated by the Fume in the sanitarium.
The Fume has planned everything.
Fanbert was visibly agitated. He had served proudly under Nara-Narayana’s command for hundreds of millennia. “How does Nara-Narayana’s ability to read the thoughts of all humankind equate to the Fume’s plan to evolve the universe?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” said the Prophet. “She’s the center of all humankind—she’s the bond that ties us all together. The biolinguistic lobe is attached to a very specific point in our brains, within the Corpus Callosum. The Corpus Callosum not only connects the hemispheres of the brain, but it’s also the path to the soul.”
I marveled at the Prophet’s exposed biolinguistic lobe. “Then Nara-Narayana is literally connected to each of our souls?”
“Indeed,” said the Prophet. “And Nara-Narayana is the center of the next human evolution, which is occurring now. It’s ironic, Nara-Narayana was the cornerstone of the Guardian Army—the ultimate intelligence to protect the Brahman Sprawl from paradox and the Fume’s manipulations—and all along she was the Fume’s greatest accomplishment.”
“You’re lying!” yelled Fanbert, eyes aflame.
“Calm down, Fanbert.” I faced the Prophet. “How is it that, after twenty-one million years, only your people became aware of this frightful revelation?”
“Long ago, my people, by an accident of medical research, modified the biolinguistic lobe of a single man. Soon after, he claimed he was in touch with God. He became overwhelmed with an amazing wisdom. Many more underwent the modification and eventually it became understood what was occurring. The biolinguistic lobe is a transmitter of thoughts. Normally, this transmission goes in one direction—from the person with the biolinguistic lobe to Nara-Narayana. Our modification, however, distorted that signal and created a feedback, in which a person’s biolinguistic lobe would receive an assortment of thoughts and memories from Nara-Narayana. The modification enlightened us with her wisdom. We gained certain insights on the most fundamental properties of the universe.” The Prophet went silent, apparently finding awe in his own thoughts. “Everything and everyone in this universe is connected.
“This universe and our existence are ruled by wondrous complexities that the human mind can’t fully fathom. Beyond the perceivable universe, there are other realms, other levels of consciousness, other plains of existence, and invisible forces that bind us together. But even with all its complexities, the universe is still ruled by chaos.” The Prophet’s eyes glowed with profound intensity. “It’s the human soul that’s the first step in bringing true order to the chaos of the universe.”
I again touched the back of my head, wondering if Nara-Narayana now read my thoughts. “And Nara-Narayana, by unifying all humankind, becomes a sort of collective consciousness?”
“Precisely,” said the Prophet. “And the celestial phenomenon we witness in the sky is the final step, when the collective consciousness becomes one consciousness. Nara-Narayana will assimilate all matter, all energy, and the soul of every person with a biolinguistic lobe, to eventually evolve into a being like the Fume. The Fume’s plans will come to fruition once this wake of evolution reaches the seven galaxies where his outpocketings are located. He’ll then be able to move freely into our universe and absorb all the divine energies composing Nara-Narayana’s new transcendental form.”
I shook my head. “If Nara-Narayana is becoming an entity on the same order as the Fume, couldn’t she resist him once her evolved state reaches the seven galaxies?”
“It’s possible,” said the Prophet. “She may be hoping for such an outcome in her favor. Either way, we’ll have lost our lives. Our souls will be dissolved into a greater consciousness. Whether Nara-Narayana’s or the Fume’s, it won’t matter.”
Fanbert seemed more accepting of the revelation. “Why only now has Nara-Narayana begun this final transformation?”
Holy shit! I thought. It all makes sense now.
I turned to Fanbert. “I require private counsel with—”
“My name is Torell,” said the Prophet.
“I’m Theron, and this is Fanbert.” I again turned to Fanbert. “I must speak with Torell alone.”
Fanbert studied me for a moment. “As you wish. I’ll check on Orsteen and Morion.” He then walked from the room, stopping once to glance back in suspicion.
I waited till Fanbert was gone, and even then spoke to Prophet Torell in a secretive tone. “I think I’m the cause of Nara-Narayana’s final transformation.”
“What? How?”
“Not only am I a creation of the Fume, but I was seeded with his energy... or essence. I think that when I was finally implanted with a biolinguistic lobe and connected to Nara-Narayana, the energy of the Fume hidden in my brain acted as a catalyst for Nara-Narayana’s evolution.”
“This would explain my initial impression of you, when I still commanded the full insights of Nara-Narayana.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I could sense a strange force spilling from the crevices of your soul.”
“An interesting turn of words. This modification of the biolinguistic lobe truly gives you access to the full scope of Nara-Narayana’s mind?”
“The feedback allows only a glimpse of her great intelligence.”
“I wish to undergo the process.”
“It would be pointless,” said Prophet Torell. “Her consciousness has become a tempest of thought, too intense for any physical being to process. Why do you think I’m disconnecting myself from her? If I were to have tried to cope with her consciousness any longer, my mind would’ve ruptured. Besides, there’s nothing left to do. We can’t reverse her evolution. We sit on borrowed time.”
“Please,” I said calmly. “I’d rather not force you.”
Prophet Torell shrugged. “Your threats are hollow, since we’ll all soon be surrendering to our mutual and ultimate nemesis—death.”
“There’s more to my condition than I’ve revealed. As the celestial phenomenon, or Nara-Narayana as you’ve indicated, has been expanding, I’ve been undergoing extraordinary changes. At first, it was merely an odd sensation, as if the celestial phenomenon beckoned me in some way. Then I was changed. I was left with a heightened awareness of my surroundings, able to move objects with my mind. Days passed and the celestial phenomenon grew larger and I was again altered. I found myself not only able to read people’s minds, but I could also manipulate them. I could change their thoughts and memories at will.”
“Interesting,” said Prophet Torell. “It seems you’re connected to Nara-Narayana on a more fundamental level than merely sharing her wisdom, as my people have. You’re evolving, although to a lesser degree, parallel with her.”
“Whatever the case, it’s a powerful connection.” I tilted my head upward. “Even now, I can feel her invigorating my soul. It’s a euphoric—though terrifying—sensation.”
“And you believe your current connection with Nara-Narayana will allow you to cope with the intensity of the feedback?”
“I do... and it must. I need answers to explain what I’m experiencing. I believe I’m becoming something greater than the Fume had planned.” I stepped closer to Prophet Torell. “Are you paying attention?”
Prophet Torell’s eyes had become droopy, and his neck collapsed from the weight of his head. The three silver posts disengaged. They were either finished with the process or found it pointless continuing on a dead man.
I jolted him about. “Are you alive?”
“There’s a node,” said Prophet Torell, his words barely audible. “It protrudes from my biolinguistic lobe.”
“I see it.” I located what appeared to be a small pearl resting on his exposed brain tissue.
“Take hold of it and pull delicately.”
I did as instructed, and as I pulled on the small pearly node, a matrix of nearly invisible filaments drew out of Torell’s biolinguistic lobe. “It’s done.”
Prophet Torell put the skullcap back on his head, concealing his exposed brain tissue. He looked around as if his surroundings had changed. “It’s odd. Now that I’m not linked with Nara-Narayana, I’m overcome by a sense of... insignificance. What were we discussing?”
“My need to experience the feedback.”
“Even if you find answers, Theron, they won’t solve our biggest problem—impending doom.”
“Will you help me or not?”
“I see no reason not to. If you were indeed a catalyst to initiate the final evolution of Nara-Narayana, you’ve done all the damage you could possibly do.”
Prophet Torell guided me to another room, where he prepared for the procedure.
I watched as he removed a collection of surgical tools. “I’m curious, Torell. Is it absolutely necessary that my brain is exposed to daylight? There could be a number of complications from putting my brain in such a vulnerable state—not the least of which is infection, necrosis, and the unavoidable release of vital fluids.”
“Don’t worry. The process, after centuries of implementation, is tried and true. Now, lie on the table and remain still. I must measure the dimensions of your head so I can make your skullcap.”
“Are you saying that after the process, my brain will remain exposed, as yours is?”
“Yes. The process will cause your biolinguistic lobe to swell in size. Your skull won’t be able to accommodate your brain tissues, thus the need for a properly fitted skullcap.”
I heaved a dreadful sigh. “I should be use to such procedures by now.”
Prophet Torell first applied a chemical to my dark hair, which melted away and left me bald. He then injected me with a pain killer, and began removing skin and skull, eventually leaving a ten-centimeter hole at the back of my head. Finally, he placed a pearly node to the surface of my exposed biolinguistic lobe.
Once the node extended its matrix of filaments, Prophet Torell smeared an oily substance over all exposed brain tissue. “These nanites will prevent infection and cauterize the perimeter of incised flesh.” He led me back to the room with the three silver posts and sat me in the chair. “I must strap you in. You might convulse violently during the process.”
“I understand.”
Prophet Torell spoke a command word, and the silver posts released their energies toward me. My biolinguistic lobe began to change. I sat in anticipation, waiting for some kind of mind-altering epiphany. Instead, I found an overwhelming terror. It was as if every neuron in my brain was firing at once. My muscles tensed and my jaw clenched. Pain, memories, and emotions cluttered my mind until at last I blacked out.
FORGING REALITY
I woke up in a standing position, as if sleepwalking had taken me to a place of mystery. I was surrounded by a forest of crystalline trees shimmering with a range of rich colors, from aquamarine to the deepest magenta.
Such beauty, I thought. It must be a dream.
I approached one of the crystalline trees and came to the conclusion that the slightest disturbance would cause the structure to crumble into a pile of shards.
The sky was bright with a million points of white light.
Are they stars?
I ambitiously reached up to grab one. In my hand, I discovered a glowing, winged insect sitting calmly on my palm and looking back as if wondering why it had been disturbed. After a moment, it returned to flight and took its place overhead.
I walked on. Eventually, I came to a small pond of placid water, reflecting the sky of glowing insects with perfect clarity. It was a calming sight until I noticed two large eyes staring up from just below the water’s surface. I sprung back as I imagined the eyes were attached to a beast stalking the water’s edge for a meal. But, as
I reeled, the two eyes slowly descended out of sight and into the water’s depths.
The surreal landscape elicited an uneasy sensation within me.
Someone’s watching me. I can feel it. My every movement’s being scrutinized. I turned in a dizzying circle. Or is it the forest itself that watches me?
I moved forward nervously. The crystalline trees swayed in my direction as I walked on in search of the unknown.
From the shadows of the forest, I saw another pair of eyes. But as I moved to discover who spied on me, I found only empty shadows. On another occasion, I swore I saw an AI-droid with a human head, sipping from Orsteen’s flask of Neuro-Rapture. But it too, when approached, dissolved into the crystalline forest.
At last, my wandering ended when I arrived at some nightmarish replica of the Brahman Station. It wasn’t constructed of diamond-fiber composite, it was built of bricks formed from human body parts, mingled and compressed. My stomach shivered.
What the hell is this place? It’s horrible. Disgusting.
I placed my hand on a brick composed of an arm, a collapsed torso, and other unidentifiable folds of flesh. I felt warmth as the grotesque masonry pulsed with life.
From a nearby brick, an eye emerged from a wrinkle of flesh. It took an interest in me, but when I neared, it retreated back into a fold, possibly fearing the poke of a curious finger.
I moved along the perimeter of the horrible replica, searching for a docking bay to enter. I suddenly saw a figure darting around a corner.
Impossible!
I recognized the figure—that lovely girl I’d adored so long ago in the sanitarium. But how? She had been murdered by the Fume.
Is it her? Could it truly be Mage?
I again caught sight of her. She stood in front of an open docking bay. I cried out to her, but she vanished into the station on pattering feet.
I entered the repulsive structure and found the girl boarding a lift. Again I called for her, but the door slid closed and she was taken up a level. Every time I caught up with her, I’d lose her around a corner or she’d board another lift to move upward.