Tiger- These are the Voyages

by David Smith

  He strode off into the woods and Park and Deer followed. Like Running Deer the former President of the United States picked his way through the leaf-litter quickly and quietly, but Park stumbled, tripped and generally reduced the likelihood of them getting anywhere without being noticed.

  ‘Where are we heading?’ hissed Park in a whisper so loud it probably didn’t really count as a whisper at all.

  Ahead of him the President said quietly. ‘Doesn’t really matter. We’ll end up at the same place sooner or later.’

  The journey was another collection of distinct points rather than a walk along a line, and they quickly lost track of how long they’d been walking. However, Lincoln eventually stopped and beckoned them forward.

  They’d reached the fringe of the woods and as they peered out into the gloom they saw a towering edifice that looked completely out of place in the arboreal setting.

  A Disneyland fairy-tale castle rose up into the darkening sky, but this castle brooded with palpable malevolence. Torches threw the castellated battlements into sharp relief but the arrow-slit windows were dark and silent.

  There was a sickening stench of decay about the place and on the highest ramparts they could make out dark shapes hanging from wooden gallows that creaked as their loads swung in the breeze.

  Deer stared up at the nightmare castle. ‘Oh crap. How are we supposed to get inside there?’

  Park’s shoulders slumped, but he suddenly remembered that none of this was real. ‘This may not be as bad as it seems. This world is only a representation of things happening within the computers secondary processors. Mr Lincoln here is an artificial memory engram; you and I are digital representations of our own thought processes. The twilight effect is probably a reflection of the limited processing power available for the artificial engrams to work with. I’m pretty certain that the castle is just a firewall programme that Vincenzi’s mind is using to keep the other engrams from interfacing with the computer’s core programme.’

  Deer shook her head ‘And that helps us how??’

  Park smiled. ‘If I was the programmer who wrote that firewall programme, I’d have made damned sure that there was a back-door into it somewhere.’

  This was outside Lincoln’s artificial experience. ‘Beg pardon?’

  ‘A back door. When we design a pattern for use in a thinking machine, we make it look as perfect as we can. But we designers don’t like the idea of other people using our design and us losing control. We always leave a secret way for us to regain control if we need to.’

  Deer realised what he was saying. ‘So if that castle is just a representation of the programme, the software path you’re referring to might manifest itself physically in this world?’

  ‘I believe so’ said Park although he sounded far from confident.

  Running Deer considered this. ‘I’m still not sure we can use it. I can’t see anyone keeping watch, but we’ll still need to risk going to the base of the castle to look. I reckon that’s twenty or thirty metres. We’ll be exposed as we cross that open ground.’

  Park wasn’t too happy about this prospect. ‘Can’t we just skirt around the edge of the woods. Stay here and scout it out from a distance?’

  Deer shook her head. ‘It’s so gloomy I can barely make out the windows from here. If the entrance is even slightly concealed we won’t be able to see it from this far away.’

  Park remembered how proficient Vincenzi had been with a bow and arrow. ‘Yes, but I still think it’s worth trying that first. Just in case?’

  Lincoln was still peering out into the gloom. ‘I believe you may have an issue that will need resolution before that. I haven’t been any closer than we are now, but I surmise that as the castle has what appears to be a draw-bridge, it will most likely have a moat too?’

  ‘Well this just gets better, doesn’t it?’ grumbled Running Deer.

  She looked out across the open ground to the castle, then back at Park and Lincoln, before making a decision. ‘Mr President, may I borrow your jacket?’

  Lincoln didn’t hesitate ‘Of course, my dear. Are you cold?’

  Deer shook her head. ‘No, but your jacket is black, Mr President. I assume that whoever’s inside the castle will have as much difficulty seeing as we do. I’m going to go scout out the castle on my own.’

  ‘That may be dangerous, my dear. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather myself or Mr Park went?’

  Running Deer donned the jacket and stooped down to dig up a handful of soft earth which she rubbed over her face and hands. ‘We’re from the late twenty-third century Mr President. In our time all sexes and races are equal, and we share the dangers of our missions equally too. Thanks for the offer, but this is my job, Mr President.’

  Lincoln looked at her with a mixture of surprise and admiration. ‘Well then, Running Deer, as an equal I would ask you to call me Abe. Good luck.’

  She thanked him and slipped away from them noiselessly.

  Padding forward, she quickly became aware that they had either misjudged the distance in the gloom, or there was another quirk in this world’s unreal topography. The castle was further away than she thought and she’d cleared the fringe of the woods by at least thirty metres before she spotted something twinkling in the darkness in front of her.

  Torchlight was reflecting off the water of a moat. She continued to edge forward and caught the musty smell of stagnant water. As she did, she realised that the ground in front of her was dropping away sharply, down to something black.

  She moved sideways along the moat hoping she might find a boat or footbridge across it. She’d swim if she had too, but was concerned that she’d draw attention to herself if she splashed too loudly.

  She was making a mental note of how far she went, as finding her way back to Park and Abe would be a challenge in itself. She reached two hundred paces and a quick check on the stars patterns in the sky confirmed that she was about one quarter of the way around the castle. She was about to carry on when something caught her eye.

  Looking out across the dark water of the moat she could see a patch where the reflected torch light didn’t flicker the same way. It wasn’t as diffuse and the reflections seemed to flicker with the flame of the torch rather than ripple with the surface of the water.

  Curious, she sneaked down further, slowing as her boots began to squelch in soft mud. She took out her knife and drew it through the water with a quiet splash, then moved a pace sideways and tried again.

  Clink.

  She repeated the movement with her knife.

  Splash, clink.

  She moved another pace sideways and gently prodded the surface of the water. Clink, clink, clink, clink, splash.

  There was something hard, smooth and glassy a few centimetres below the surface of the water, just over a meter wide. A hidden foot bridge across the moat. And if someone had hidden a footbridge here, she knew what would be hidden at the end of it.

  Gingerly, she stepped out on to the footbridge and edged her way across cautiously. The moat turned out to be ten meters wide and at the far side she scrambled up a small incline and tiptoed another five meters to reach the foot of the castle wall.

  Here she was shadowed from the flickering torches above and the gloominess seemed that much thicker. She edged here way along the wall, not knowing what she was looking for until she found it.

  The wall turned sharply as it reached the foot of one of the high towers. She followed it as it curved out and around to form a circular base for the tower close to ten metres in diameter. She approached the point where the circular wall of the tower returned to the flat wall of the body of the castle. Unexpectedly, the wall turned back on itself sharply, producing a deep recess that would have been near impossible to spot from a distance.

  She stepped into the recess. It was completely dark and she was forced to explore by touch. She felt cold rough stone on the walls around her, but in front of her was something smoother and warmer. Something wooden. She ran her hands
across this surface and found something cold hard and round. Some kind of handle.

  She risked turning it, stopping and listening every time it creaked and groaned. The handle turned as far as it would go and a gentle push let a plane of warm, flickering torchlight shine onto her face. She peaked through the small gap she’d opened and saw exactly what she expected to see. Rough stone walls, stone paved floor, arched stone ceiling. Like every castle she’d ever imagined.

  She’d found the back door, but realised she’d reached the limit of her skill set. This was Park’s gig from here on, so she carefully closed the door and retraced her steps.

  --------------------

  ‘So what do we do when we get inside?’

  Park shrugged. ‘I’ve no idea. I’ve got to get my head around the fact that all of this is representational. My mind is good at hacking programmes in the real world, so in this world I’ve got to find out how such opportunities manifest themselves.’

  Lincoln looked concerned. ‘It seems to me that you might need some time to set your mind to that task. If he were here, I think my old friend Ulysses S Grant would suggest that a diversion is in order.’

  Running Deer nodded. ‘Makes sense. What did you have in mind Abe?’

  Lincoln took off the tall stove-pipe hat and scratched his head. ‘Well, I think that the folks back at camp might offer this Vincenzi fellow something to think about. Truth be told, some of those chaps would talk the hind legs off a mule and then argue for hours over why the beast won’t move.’

  Park was surprised. ‘Are you happy to take that risk?’

  Lincoln sat up straight. ‘It’s my understanding that my role in this matter . . . and that of some of these other fellows . . . is to resolve conflict. In my experience, you may have to accept the loss of the odd foot-soldier in order for a general to win a battle.’

  Deer nodded in agreement. She’d studied Lincoln’s biography and knew that the real President had sadly accepted the loss of hundreds of thousands of lives as the price to be paid to preserve his beloved Union.

  Park wasn’t as certain. ‘Are you sure you can persuade the others to go with you?’

  ‘I’m a politician Mr Park. I’ve been around the block enough times to know that support comes from asking the right question. I grant that asking them if they’d like to act as cannon-fodder in a diversionary attack on a castle probably won’t attract many volunteers. However, if I suggest that I believe I just need one person with the moral courage and superior intellect to persuade a lost soul to lay down his arms, frankly, I’ll be trampled in a stampede.’

  --------------------

  It was no surprise that Mahatma Ghandi led the group.

  The quiet little man would simply brook no argument and even amongst a group of legendary peace-makers, his stubborn moral authority seemed to overwhelm them all.

  With Lincoln and Kissinger at his side and supported by an assault team of philosophers including Kant, Descartes, Locke, Plato and Sartre, they marched on the castle’s main gate.

  Standing at the edge of the moat, Lincoln shouted out ‘We seek dialogue with the person known as Professor Nando Vincenzi. As newcomers to this strange land we wish to understand his intentions and our place within it.’

  Not far away, Running Deer led Park through the woods to the point at which the hidden bridge crossed the moat and waited. They couldn’t see much but could just make out dark figures moving across the ramparts of the castle towards the entrance.

  When the last of them had moved out of sight, Deer led Park forward and across the bridge to the secret door.

  They could hear Lincoln’s deep voice carrying through the twilight and an answering voice that was higher pitched with a nasal note and a thick New York Italian accent.

  Atop the gate, Professor Vincenzi stood looking down at the torch bearing delegation. ‘Who are you and what do you want?’

  Another Professor Vincenzi shouted out ‘Let’s kill ‘em!! Let’s get down there and wipe them off the face a’ the earth!’

  The first version turned around and said ‘Shut up you imbecile! We’ll let them speak before we decide anything.’

  The third version quietly added ‘Are you sure that’s a good idea?’

  Lincoln and Ghandi could only look on in confusion as another and then yet another version of the Professor added to the conversation.

  ‘It seems there might be trouble in paradise’ whispered Lincoln.

  ‘True dat, bro’ nodded Ghandi sagely.

  --------------------

  Not far away, Running Deer peered cautiously through the back-door into the castle. Inside was silent, with just the soft flickering torches scattered along the walls betraying any sign of life.

  She looked back to Park, beckoned him forward and he sneaked in nervously behind her. She looked around at him querulously. ‘It’s no good you hanging back. I’m out of my depth here. This is your gig now.’

  Park was too scared to venture far and with a sigh Running Deer asked ‘Ok, where do we go from here?’

  Park didn’t have a clue but fell back on how he imagined a castle should be: ‘Downwards. Dungeons are always at the bottom of a castle.’

  Deer looked around and led Park along a corridor, drawing her knife as they moved off. She was hoping the diversion would keep the Vincenzi’s occupied, but holding her knife calmed her, and seemed to ease Park’s nerves too.

  She peeked around a corner and saw a dark and forbidding entrance heading down into the floor. ‘This way!’

  In the gloom she could make out hard stone stairs and carefully crept down them. The torches had been thinly spread when they’d entered the castle, but here, below ground level they were spread thinner still, leaving Deer and Park moving from one small pool of light to another.

  They found more steps down a narrower stairwell and the air turned damp and stale. There were hardly any lights now, and as they stepped off the last of the steps they noticed that there were a series of dark openings either side of a long, narrow corridor.

  Each opening was blocked off by crude gates made from heavy-looking iron bars. They’d found the dungeon.

  As they crept past the first, a voice rumbled out of the darkness, startling Deer and making Park shriek in fear.

  ‘Please! Help me!’ came a voice from the darkness.

  Park clung to Deer’s tunic, but she pushed him away, took one of the few torches in the corridor down off the wall and approached the cell. As she did she whispered ‘Who’s there?’

  Like a moth drawn to the flame, the prisoner stepped forward and said ‘My name is Professor Nando Vincenzi. Can you get me out of here?’

  --------------------

  At the drawbridge of the castle, the discussions were not going well.

  The peace-makers and philosophers all had things they wanted to say that they believed might make Professor Vincenzi give up his control of the world.

  However, they couldn’t get a word in edgeways: the various versions of the Professor were far too busy arguing amongst themselves.

  Lincoln and Ghandi stood quietly, contemplating how things would go. Lincoln tuned to Ghandi and whispered ‘In my understanding, those fellows are all the same person. I find it a little surprising that they don’t seem to get along.’

  Ghandi nodded. ‘Yeah, bro. Them is well mixed up, innit?’

  Lincoln looked at the little Indian. ‘Pardon me for saying, but you don’t sound much like a man of the Asian sub-continent.’

  Ghandi nodded passively. ‘Yeah, ain’t that the truth. From what that geezer Park was saying, we is just an impression of the real thing, assembled from historic video, quotes, biographies and third party accounts. Turns out the newb who assembled my engram was like, completely out of his depth.’

  Lincoln nodded sympathetically. ‘I suppose it matters not. What matters is that you do the very best you can with the situation in which you find yourself.’

  Ghandi nodded. ‘Innit just. So we need to
totally smash this one outta the park.’

  Lincoln smiled. ‘I’m not familiar with that expression, but I believe I agree with the sentiment.’

  ‘Yeah man, we got this. Them geezers is doing all the damage themselves.’

  Up on the battlements above them they could just make out two of the professors pushing and shoving each other, whilst other versions tried to hold them apart.

  --------------------

  ‘What are you doing here??’ hissed Park.

  ‘How should I know??’ moaned the Professor. ‘All I know is that there are a dozen versions of me, and they’re all different from me. They started arguing amongst themselves and I tried to mediate. Before I knew it, one of them had me pinned up against the wall and next thing I know I’m down here.’

  Deer pulled Park away from the cell entrance and whispered. ‘I get it!! All the bio-data I read on the Professor indicates he’s borderline schizophrenic. I think that in this crazy reality the various facets of his personality are being split out as individuals.’

  Park nodded. ‘So this is his logic, his reason . . . ‘

  ‘And the ones that attacked the physicists are the darker traits of his personality like his anger, his jealousy and his pride’ concluded Deer.

  ‘So in the context of this world only being a representation of what’s really happening, we should free his reasoning?’

  ‘Can’t hurt, can it?’ asked Deer.

  Park looked at the thick bars. ‘How do we get him out?’

  ‘I’ve come prepared’ said Deer and took a tiny tool out of a small pouch on her belt. It looked like a small, square torch, but as she activated it a bright blue flame appeared from the free end, and she began playing it over one hinge.

  ‘Will that work?’ asked Park, concerned that like everything else in this world, the hinges weren’t real.

  Deer shrugged. ‘I don’t know, but I figure that if even if nothing at all is real, at some level my brain is telling the computer that I want to free this part of its programme, so it’ll find a way to do it.’

  Sure enough, one hinge and then the other melted and gave way, and Deer grunted and pivoted the bars around the lock far enough to free the Professor.