A thin black line formed in the middle of my vision: two scenes playing different images in front of my undecided eyes. I felt that I had to choose and I could not. I cursed my fear, and laughs answered back, slowly dissipating in mocking echoes going back and forth in the surrounding blackness. In the right-hand scene a new image formed, another woman resembling the first took shape. A perturbation in the flow of the fluid stopped the materialization a little below the neck and her missing left eye attracted me. I know this statue. The uraeus on her crown came to life and hissed with his restless forked tongue:
“And the Heiress, Great in the Palace, Fair of Face, Adorned with the Double Plumes, Mistress of Happiness, Endowed with Favors, at hearing whose voice the King rejoices...”
The statue moved, slowly advancing and rotating, multiplying, once, twice, many times, all swirling around me in a tumultuous vortex. “Ne-fer-ti-ti,” I gasped. A far away voice answered me: “You know my name.” My mind was a mess of self-contradictions and tattered identical images, shredded by sensations and feelings I had never dreamt of, when the lightning abruptly erased everything. I woke in my garden, with the Gate smiling at me.
“Temporal sickness, very common for all first-time time travelers. You tried to impose your own temporal image, the statue, over the real ancient person, known against unknown. Your brain is not developed enough to handle such events.”
“I was not alone there,” I reluctantly said, more a fearful unborn question than statement.
“In a way.”
“What way?” Don’t play with me.
“A Field Crawler found the scene interesting and played Nefertiti, in an alternative timeline. You will be back in the same second you left them while passing through the door.”
“Be welcome in our land of bliss and sorrow, Traveler from the stars,” Nefertiti greeted me. Traveler from the stars… “We apologize...” Do you think of me as a deity? Of course, gods here are frequently whipped by soldiers. I still had the presence of mind to bow politely.
“Are you bringing some news from your people?” the man’s deep voice echoed in my head. “Will they help us to return?” My people... What people? Feeling that everything might depend on my presence of mind, I forced myself to stay silently attentive. [“In fact, to be correct, you were speechless, but that phrase gave you the impression of having a rational and controlled reaction,” the Gate teased me later.]
My words came out slowly, as if they were hurting me: “I am not a star traveler; I come from Earth’s future.” The room went suddenly silent. Say something. “I came here to meet a mighty king and his queen. I see what I was looking for and ... more.”
“Leave us.” I turned. “The order ... it was not meant for you,” he stopped me. All the people left the room, apart from the scribe and the young girl. “As you already guessed, we are not from Earth; our space ship broke, and we made an emergency landing on your planet.” The famous elongated skulls...
“There is a universal matrix of knowledge shared by people everywhere and all civilizations in the galaxy are human-like,” the Gate whispered. My mind was trying hard to recover from suddenly being part of a fairy-tale, which happened to be true. I was the fake in the picture, and for some unknown reason this did not diminish its value.
When the day ends, the stars are born, and the dreams begin; the fairy-tale continued with a late dinner on the palace's terrace, drowned in the fragrance of the fiery red pomegranate flowers. Voices singing and harps, discreet and melancholic, matched the calm of the night.
“Your psyche was altered a long time ago and we try to heal. Life at the beginning is modest in its requirements; consciousness brings complexity, and gradually asks for more. You were pushed to want more than is necessary for a smooth evolution; we do not know by whom or why. Love is the essence of the universe, but it is a choice to love.” Oh yes, we love ... money and power. “You have lost this choice, overwhelmed by too much desire for material things. The path of love is not easy, but only through love can a human being achieve his intended potential. I apologize if my comments...” Be happy that you came here in the past. Now, they will steal your ship looking for weapons able to kill more people.
“There is nothing to apologize for. We had a long time to...” Hide the future. They tried, but... “That interference is old; even older than once upon a time.” They agreed with a smile, yet I could not pass over her sadness. A spell of sorrow floated around; even the candles altered their flames. Okay, it was not quite true, but why change such wonderful perception?
“They are not aware. Oh Aten! What more can we do?” The moment she finished a wave moved through stones – their faces showed nothing. Intermittently, colors surfaced on the wall taking shape as humans and objects. I know this picture... a thought occurred to me: Leonardo ... da Vinci, the thought followed its course, The Last Supper. “We know it,” I whispered, “I merely desired that the story be brought back to life again by your voice,” I tried to save something. Why The Last Supper?
“The belt is activating.” Having no idea about its functioning, I stayed silent. “Did we succeed?” His anxious eyes followed my slightest motion, betraying the effort it had taken to ask that question.
I glanced into the night to hide an understandable pang of disquiet. “Yes you did; the monotheistic religion you started is now everywhere on Earth.” I will never know if they were satisfied with the answer, but I couldn't tell them that the philosophy of love they created had been bequeathed to the future by a barbarian nomad tribe, unable to fully acknowledge the beauty of it, and that even after two fundamental restatements, fourteen hundred and two thousand years later, it still did not fully match their initial intentions – yet in the end I did not lie to them.
*
“Pleasure blinded you. Blind Traveler means dead Traveler,” she ignored my complaints. They whipped me. “They could kill you. Pay attention to the environment, understand it and blend in. For every pleasure, there is a price to pay if it does not fit the circumstance. Are you ready to pay that price?” Her voice was just a whisper, but there was a frightening edge to it. You really like to dominate.
“Sometimes it is necessary,” she teased. “All ended well. You have a chance for a different life, don’t waste it.”
“Ended well ... look at my scars,” I said, raising the sleeves to expose the marks of the whip, only to find my skin unblemished. “What…?”
“You were not really there; it was a simulation.” Simulation! The word killed all the magic I had felt on my journey. I saw no remorse on her face, or at least fooled myself that I could have read something from her mask. You had to spoil everything, to show who the master is. “We don’t put fish-loving novices like you into hazardous circumstances.”
“What dangers if everything was simulated?” Wrong question, I realized, even before finishing the sentence. My mind reacted in parallel strings of thoughts, each of them analyzing a different alternative of the reality. The flawed one surfaced faster, because the computation was easier or simply because it matched my mood; a deep feeling of disappointment aroused from losing the magic of my journey, and from feeling myself being no more than a toy.
“For you, it was real. We supposed that you have a sense of self-preservation. Have you?”
Have you … have you… It was my first trip. “How did the crawler interfere in the simulation?” I changed the subject.
“A micro-universe bubble replicated Ancient Egypt using data from The Field, and crawlers are his helpers.” The ‘audience’ ... I was on display. “I had to stop that conversation; you were torturing them by letting slip how their work failed. They do not deserve that, not even in simulations.”
“It was my best time, and it was my worst time,” I whispered. “I tried to hide our unfortunate evolution...” She nodded, as if trying to encourage me.
“You were on vacation. This doesn’t mean a vacation from learning.” Right, right, but the knowledge made my reaction no more c
omfortable. “And to be honest, I didn’t anticipate your request.” Why are you telling me all this?
“I feel a sense of pride that you are unusual. Things have to be seen in their real perspective; you are not yet conditioned by long-term development: the age of your civilization, your age. Uncensored imagination will have an influence, but there is nothing extraordinary in this.” Her warm tone made me re-evaluate: I need to learn. “Now, start training. Being in good shape is important; it can save your life, and after a while, we can plan the next vacation. Your first mission will start soon; you will be a hunter,” she answered before I could finish my question. “It is too early for this,” she continued before my ‘where’ question took shape. I will be a hunter … interesting, I like this game, I told myself, not yet fully accustomed that my inner self was no longer private.
“Can I call you Houston? I hate talking with a ‘Gate’.”
“I have hundreds of names; one more will do no harm.”
After she left, I crashed my glass on her chair. Simulation! I am not your puppet. Shall I quit? Can you?
*
Cold wind, whipping my body, blast after blast, for hours. It's too cold for a tropical island. I felt that something was wrong from the minute the sandwiches materialized. They told me that my next stage of training had begun. I wanted it, now I fear it. It’s not true; I feared this moment from the beginning. The wind was picking up, a whistle, then a howl, then many; heavy anvils of cloud flew over the waning moon. Sooner or later I will be home; I have only to survive this night. The world of sounds became alien to me at that moment, the whistling sand was not the same, wind howling was not the same. Stop it! The rain brought me back to my senses, and I laughed nervously: “Thank you Houston.” Stumbling in the darkness, I found a fallen palm; it provided some shelter, but rain still found a way to drip on my skin. My shirt was now wet and I dreamt of a fire.
“Are you afraid?”
I could not unclench my teeth enough to answer. It was sunny again; she probably shifted the time for me, her sensors saw my body about to crumble. I buried myself in the hot sand – “Of course I am afraid, you bitch,” I finally opened my mouth. – until my skin was burning. Now what? A chunk of meat materialized. “No ... please. Send me back.” Raw meat… I am not a savage. Feeling the need to calm myself, I went swimming. In the cold water, a thought came to me: It’s a test. I have to prepare the meat, and I have to build a shelter for the night. It was a week-long journey, missions are not vacations.
*
She was blonde, and smiling discreetly ... at me. Her image sneaked inside my mind... You and me … on my training atoll… “What kind of wine do you prefer?” she woke me up. “This one,” I put my finger on the menu without reading its content. Stupid answer, another wasted chance, she was already gone. The island made a comeback – her silhouette walking on the white sand. The light tracks that she made in the sand melted away moments after they were formed, leaving no trace of her passing. “You don’t need a waitress costume on a tropical island,” I whispered. She turned her head. “You are right.” And the costume started to fall, slowly, incredible slowly.
“Do not expect such trainings from me; I am not an escort agency.”
“Houston! What are you doing here?” I smiled mechanically at the people around.
“Keeping you company; of course I cannot walk that way.” A moment later, a four-winged, roasted alien bird appeared on her plate. Why an alien bird? I sniffed and salivated in the same time.
“Can I try it?” I pointed to her steak.
“You will spend half day on the toilet, but you can.” Her smile was mocking me. What can I really eat on other worlds? I suddenly realized. Different sugars, different amino acids ... no proper enzymes... I would starve even after the most copious meal ... all in, all out ... half day on the...
“That will wait for me everywhere I go? The food I mean.” I imagined myself carrying a big backpack filled with raw meat. What the hell? I am not a mule.
“Finally you found what this little experiment is about, testing your spine.” Her voice again had the amused tone of an adult speaking with a limited child. “When a planet is ripe for life it creates holographic information structures, from light – DNA precursors. There is an intrinsic tendency for complexity seeded within matter, for becoming more conscious.” I sensed a bit of humor, and kept my mouth shut. I was … learning, but it was not helping with my inferiority complex. “The Universe is experimenting on himself, creating life. Humans were not yet born when the Saurians ruled this galaxy. Based on their experiments, The Field enhanced all the DNA in the galaxy.” That moment, the waitress passed through Houston's ghost. When she stopped only Houston’s nose was still visible, hanging out from her breast. A laugh escaped my mouth as I stared at her bust.
“Anything wrong with the steak sir?”
“What? Oh ... well ... no. Sorry, I was thinking about ... not at your ... ah ... steak. It is very good.”
“I am glad you are enjoying it.” She turned, a bit more formally than before, and Houston’s face re-emerged, with a broad smile, this time from the blonde’s back. I will not come here again.
“Aaah ... yes, the dinosaurs ruled the galaxy ... very interesting.”
“Life is based on the same DNA patterns everywhere.” She looked as if she was dreaming, but this was only a mask I failed to understand. “The world of your first mission has one different essential amino acid; your genome will be modified in consequence.” Change me? Never. “Don’t worry; we have the data necessary to recreate you at any time.” Her words were so neutral, as if I was an artificial product created from some boring specifications.
“That's a copy, not me,” I said, annoyed. “Why are you so eager to bypass our feelings? You were supposed to have a greater understanding of things.”
“Perhaps we are; it probably comes from dealing with cultures that value the mind more than the body. You are too obsessed with your bodies. Think of it as being nothing more than a mere shell; the mind is you, not the body.” I sensed a small hint of sarcasm in her indirect messages, her way of correcting my cultural ‘garbage’.
“Well, it’s not for me. I want a guarantee that I will not be replaced.” She was slightly amused, and I don't know why her bold, smoldering stare and ironic smile reminded me of Gandalf. Gandalf? She is a woman ... beautiful, no mustache. I know, but she smiles like him.
“Sometimes you have to decide between death and body replacement … the decision is yours.” Mine… I tried to acknowledge that if I die in my missions another ‘me’ would come back to life. Of course, I would accept, I exploded inside. Inside, outside ... she always knows what is in my mind. Stupid!
“You would never know if we have already created a copy.” I am not a copy, I can’t be a copy. Blood blinded my eyes. Do they want to dispose of me? Who gave you the right to play with people? We are not toys. Stop it! “We see no need to replicate your wisdom.” I tried to find a killing answer, to make her feel bad. I failed.
*
The contract was downloaded into my mind just days before the mission was to start; no real goals, only termination clauses and … undetermined duration. ‘Read and accept’, the last line made me smile. Contracts from the future… Nothing really changed… Well, something was different: after accepting, my hologram was added as ‘signature’. Each time I opened the contract, my own face stared uncomfortably at me. The fact that it stared at me from inside my mind did not make things easier. I spent many hours chewing the words: ‘cave hunters’. “Caveman! What the hell? I deserve more, greater things, things I can brag about, to show my former managers how wrong they were. Girls, you know, I saved some monkeys at the end of the universe, wonderful. Champagne!” I glanced at the garden hedge; nobody was there; the neighboring house was still empty. It’s the economy, stupid! My excitement was completely gone. Spears! Stones! I want lasers, space ships ... real fun. I will be a hunter, yes, but hunting is not really a missio
n. My hunting mission was haunting me.
Surprising a many-thousands-years-old entity is a surprise in itself. My question stayed hidden for weeks, then resurfaced. Why? Who knows? “What is a Faction?” Batranu was frightened by them, yet he said nothing to her or she did not read his mind in this aspect. Is their relationship different?
“Who told you about Factions?” Her question came out calmly as usual, but … a part of my mind seemed to be out of her reach.
“I dreamt about them.” I stopped, waiting for her to ask more. She has to ask! For the first time she has to ask something about me.
“Interesting dream,” she crushed my excitement. “Munti ... never heard of them.” Even more, she did not perceive Delena, and some parts of her speech. I realized this much later when things turned bad. “Some infiltrations from The Field in your own dream … maybe.” She smiled at me. “This pleased you.” I mumbled something in my defense. “It is normal,” she cut through my fear. “You resent my interference inside your mind. The dream was unconnected to your first layer of memories; there are many hidden things in people’s minds. They resurface suddenly from nowhere. For this kind of memories, I have to dig ... and it is too much effort, usually insignificant things. Usually, but not always,” she let slip her own worries. “Your ‘employer’ is a Faction. We need ... we need someone able to understand these people.”
Io Deceneus: Journal of a Time Traveler (The Living Universe) Page 4