by Joseph Rhea
It’s the fast interface, she realized. Time was passing inside Cyberdrome one hundred times faster than in the real world. Both her ovum and Alek’s sperm inside her would’ve been scanned when she was. Apparently, her Avatar’s ovum had been fertilized and was now developing at the speed of the simulations.
“This is not the Gift?” the woman asked, the flutes in her voice changing to distant wind chimes. She was worried, or perhaps sad.
“Listen, I don’t know who you are or even what you are, but this thing inside me is a person, or at least, it will be some day.” She thought about that, and then added, “Assuming that the same thing’s happening in my real body—which of course, is anyone’s guess. Anyway, it’s not a gift, at least in the way I think you mean it.”
The woman’s face drooped for a moment, but then lightened. “I understand,” she said, her voice again whistling with the sound of flutes. “You are replicating. It is the other who carries the Gift.”
“What other?” Maya asked.
“Time to go,” the woman said as she looked past Maya’s shoulder. Maya turned around just as a group of men came into the hangar. She turned to run but strong hands grabbed her and held her firm. As they pulled her backward toward the door, she saw that the green woman was gone. Like a ghost—there one moment and gone the next.
TWELVE
A man tied Alek’s hands with a coarse rope and then led him around the base of the saucer. All attempts to explain his presence were met with sharp jabs from the ends of their rifles. So much for my people skills, he thought.
They took him to what looked like a large all-terrain vehicle parked on top of a sand dune. It had four huge tires that were taller than he was, and what looked like a detachable compartment in back. They shoved him into the compartment, and slammed the metal door shut, plunging him into a hot and stifling darkness.
He tried for quite a while to loosen the ropes, but couldn’t budge them. With sweat running down his face and stinging his eyes, he finally gave up and tried to think cool thoughts. It didn’t work.
At some point, he either dozed off—or passed out from the heat—because the next thing he knew, the door opened and Maya came tumbling in. He tried to break her fall, but his bound hands prevented it. The door slammed shut again, and the vehicle began to move.
A hand brushed his face in the darkness. “Are you okay, Alek?” she asked.
“Good as you are, I guess,” he replied.
“Where do you think they are taking us?”
“My guess is that fort we saw. We should try to get out of this vehicle before we get there. By the way, what is this thing? It looks a little too advanced for the people who built that fort.”
He felt her slide up against him. The warmth of her body touching his arm felt nice, even in the sweltering heat of the cabin. “This is a Rover,” she said. “One of the surface vehicles we use. The locals must’ve scavenged this one after the crash.”
He sat up and worked to loosen the ropes binding her wrists. “Can you find a light?”
“I’ll try,” she said. A few moments later, a single dim light bar flickered to life on the ceiling. The room looked like some sort of mobile laboratory.
He stood and approached her. “Quick, untie me.”
When she finished, he turned around to face her. In the dim light, he saw that she had tears on her face.
“Maya, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she said, turning away. “Sand in my eyes, that’s all.”
Alek tried to open the door, but it was locked. “What’s this?” he asked, pointing to the room.
“This is a Research Pod. They are used for studying the people in the simulations up close.”
Alek walked around, touching panels. “Is it part of the Rover?”
“No, it’s detachable.”
He smiled. “That’s what I thought. Let’s see if we can find a way to detach it.”
“It’s controlled from the cockpit,” she said. “Listen, Alek, there’s something I need to tell you.”
“What?” he said as he continued to search the room.
“I don’t know if this is the best time, but I think you should know.”
He stopped and returned to stand beside her. Something was up—he could tell by the slight quiver in her voice. “Tell me what’s wrong,” he whispered.
She put both hands on her abdomen, and was about to say something when the Rover lurched to a stop.
They heard the sounds of people running and shouting all around the vehicle. Maya pushed Alek down to the floor and then quickly turned off the lights just before the door opened to full sunlight. Several men stepped inside and pulled them both out.
As Alek’s eyes readjusted to the bright light, he saw that they were inside a walled courtyard and surrounded by dozens of armed men and women. Several strong men were closing a large metal gate at the entrance to the courtyard. It would not be easy to escape this place, he realized.
As they were led across the courtyard, a man with dirty skin and yellow teeth stepped out of a building and stopped them.
“General Kazak will see them first,” he said. The armed men grunted their disappointment, but then released their holds on Alek and Maya.
“Is this a good thing?” Alek whispered to Maya. She shrugged her shoulders as they followed the man into the building.
Inside, the temperature was at least twenty degrees cooler. A loud and overworked air conditioning unit sat in a nearby window, whirring and chattering. The unit looked at least fifty years old, maybe older.
Yellow-tooth led them into a smaller back room where it was still cool but much quieter. A middle-aged man with black hair and graying moustache sat behind a wooden desk and nodded as they entered.
“Excellent,” the man said. He then looked past them and asked, “Are these colleagues of yours, Dr. Lyman?”
“I need to see their faces, General,” a scratchy voice replied.
Alek turned and saw a short balding man sitting on a fold-up metal chair in the back of the room. His hands were behind him and his face was bruised and scarred. Alek guessed that someone had severely beaten him recently. His guess was yellow-tooth.
“Oh, my God,” Maya exclaimed when she turned and saw the man. “You’re Herschel Lyman.” She turned to Alek. “He’s one of the hostages. I saw him right before the attack. He almost knocked me over trying to get to my chamber.”
“Yes, I recognize the woman,” the man said, gazing up at Maya. “She’s one of us. Dr. Maya Rivero, as I recall.” He looked up at Alek and frowned. “Him, I’ve never seen before.”
Maya looked at the man. “We are here to get you out, Dr. Lyman.”
“I’m afraid that neither of you will be going anywhere,” General Kazak said. He looked at Alek and snapped his fingers. “However, this man will be executed immediately.”
Yellow-tooth grabbed Alek’s arm, pulling him forcefully toward the door.
“Wait,” Maya yelled. “Dr. Lyman, this is Mathew Grey’s son, Alek.” She nodded her head toward the General. “Tell them that he’s one of us.”
Herschel peered up at Alek. “I guess there is a family resemblance,” he finally said. He turned to General Kazak. “He’s all right. If he’s Grey’s son, he might even be more use to you than the woman.”
With a nod from the General, yellow-tooth muttered under his foul breath, then released his grip and backed out of the room, shutting the door behind him.
“Use us for what?” Maya asked Herschel. When he simply lowered his head, she looked up at Kazak.
“You will assist me in defeating my enemy,” he said, returning to sit behind his desk. “For this help, you will be rewarded with a comfortable life here. Food, drink, women.” He looked at Maya. “Or men, if you prefer.”
Alek imagined yellow-tooth with Maya and shuttered. “Who’s this enemy of yours?” he asked, hoping to drive the image from his mind.
Kazak lifted a pipe from a clay ashtray and put
it in his mouth without lighting it. “They call themselves, ‘Medari.’ They live in the high desert and attack our village nearly every night. They are, quite literally, monsters.”
“The enemy usually is,” Alek said. “And if we refuse to help you?”
Kazak nodded to Herschel, who seemed to shrink in his chair. Alek noticed for the first time the stains on Herschel’s pants and the large brownish-yellow puddle under his chair.
“I believe that Dr. Lyman asked himself that same question just a few days ago. I have four simple rules here. Please tell them my rules, Dr. Lyman.”
Herschel looked up—tears were running down his dirty cheeks. “Do what he asks,” he said. “Don’t question his orders, don’t try to escape, and don’t try to trick him.”
Kazak smiled. “Very good, Dr. Lyman. I believe that you have learned your lesson. Please escort Dr. Rivero and Mr. Grey to your quarters.” He paused and then added, “Do clean yourself up, won’t you.”
“Thank you, General,” Herschel said. “I’ll come back later to mop this up.”
“Nonsense, Dr. Lyman. You are my Minister of Defense, and have more important matters to attend. My guards will take care of this.”
Herschel stood slowly, and Alek realized that his hands were not tied after all. He remained hunched as he walked toward the door. How long had Kazak made him sit there? Alek wondered. Two days? Three?
The poor guy reeked of his own urine, and when they stepped into the heat of the afternoon sun, the smell became overpowering. Maya, always the caring person, put her shoulder under Herschel’s arm and tried to help him walk. Alek winced at the smell, but then remembered that he apparently owed his life to this smelly little man. He supported Herschel’s other arm as they walked across the courtyard.
“It’s not going to be easy to get out of here,” Maya whispered as she looked up at the tall walls surrounding the courtyard.
“I don’t do well as a servant,” Alek whispered back. “So, we either find a way out of here, or we die trying.”
Herschel looked up at Maya and then Alek. “Kazak won’t allow you to die. We are too important to him.”
“Good. Then we have nothing to lose,” Alek said.
“There are worse punishments than death,” Herschel said as he lifted his left hand toward Alek. Two of his fingers were missing, cut off below the second knuckle.
Alek felt his stomach turn and swallowed hard to keep the bile down. Herschel had gone through more than he could even imagine. This so-called simulation was suddenly feeling very real.
They carried Herschel into a small building near the center of the main courtyard. Inside there was a single room with six canvas cots taking up most of the floor space. Herschel hobbled over to a draped-off section in the back corner. When he pulled back the cloth curtains, Alek saw that is was a primitive bathroom. A faucet stuck out of the wall at shoulder level and a hole in the floor looked like it served as both the shower drain and toilet.
Herschel closed the curtains and began washing himself. “Make yourselves at home,” he said. “Pardon the clutter. I’ve had the place all to myself for a long time now.”
“How long have you been here?” Alek asked as he and Maya walked to the opposite end of the room to give the man some privacy.
“Close to a year, I would say.” He poked his head out from the curtains. “So, what brings you two to this little bit of heaven on Earth?”
Maya looked at him oddly. “We’re here to bring you home, of course.”
He frowned and then pulled his head back inside the curtains and continued to clean himself. “The home I remember does not exist,” he said. “I’m quite sure of that now.”
Alek looked at Maya, but she stood and walked closer to the curtains. “Dr. Lyman, you have been trapped inside this simulation for almost a year. It’s understandable for you to be a bit confused.”
“I’m not the one who’s confused,” he said, pulling back the curtains. He was dripping wet but looked only slightly cleaner, Alek thought. He had apparently rinsed his shirt and pants in the shower, and then put them right back on.
Maya approached him and sat on a nearby cot. “All of the simulations were taken over by Ceejer,” she said, “The time differential was boosted to one hundred times normal. It may seem like you have been here a year, but you actually interfaced with Cyberdrome just a few days ago.”
Herschel blinked several times. Either he had water in his eyes or he was having difficulty understanding what she was telling him.
“That’s a lie,” he finally said. “The Earth you’re talking about is no more real than this one.”
“What do you mean?” Alek asked.
Maya gave him a stern look that said, “Don’t interfere,” and then turned back to Herschel. “What happened to the ship’s crew and the other researchers?” she asked.
Herschel waved his hands. “These people, the ones who are holding us here. These are your researchers.”
Maya glanced at Alek, then back at Herschel. “What?”
“It’s true,” Herschel said. “The people in this village are from the Survey Vessel.”
“They can’t be,” she said.
Herschel smiled briefly, but then his face became solemn. “I have spent a year now, living with these people. A few of them are kind, but a good many of them have gone mad. No matter what their condition, they all still have one thing in common.” He looked at Alek for the answer.
“They all believe they are real.”
Herschel jumped up. “No,” he yelled and pointed a finger at Alek. “They know they are real. As surely as you know it and as surely as I once did.”
“You’re trying to tell us that we are all simulations?” Maya asked. “You think we are all programs?”
“I have proof, you know,” Herschel said.
“What proof?” Alek asked, barely suppressing a laugh.
He stood and began to search the room. “I have a list somewhere. I wrote them down as I thought of them.”
“Wrote what down?” Maya asked.
“I told you,” he said angrily. “Proof that the other world was a dream. I made a list and wrote it down.” He stopped searching and sat down on another cot. “Oh, that’s right. I threw the list away. Didn’t want them to find it.”
Maya walked over and stood next to him. “Just relax, Dr. Lyman.” She looked up at Alek. “We really need to get him out of here. If he sees the Core, it might snap him out of whatever state he’s in.”
“What’s your proof?” Alek repeated, ignoring Maya.
“Things that I remembered. Things that don’t make sense when you have time to think about them. Things I took for granted, but should not have.”
“Like what?”
His eyes glazed over for a moment. Maya was about to say something when he came out of it.
“Hang time,” he blurted out.
“You mean basketball?” Alek asked.
“That’s right. Basketball. I used to go to the games. I saw the players make jump shots. Hung in the air for a full second before shooting.” He looked up at Alek. “That’s impossible, you know. I didn’t think about it then, but I understand it now.”
Alek looked at Maya and shook his head. “That is a little strange, now that I think about it.”
“That’s not all,” Herschel interrupted. “Passenger aircraft, those huge double-decker jumbo jets. Deep down we know that it’s impossible for them to fly. Partial vacuum over those little wings causes that much lift? Who are they trying to fool?”
Maya looked at Alek this time. “I’ve always wondered about that myself.”
“There’s more,” Herschel said. “So much more. I had a list, but I threw it away, so they wouldn’t find it.” He paused a second before continuing. “When I was a child, I was told that the universe we were able to detect contained only 5% of the mass required to hold the galaxies in place. They called the missing 95% ‘dark matter’ just to give it a name. Fifty years later,
astronomers still have no explanation, other than a few wild theories, for that missing 95%.”
“Listen, Dr. Lyman,” Maya said. “I don’t have explanations for those things, but that does not mean that our world, or our universe, isn’t real.”
“There’s more. We’ve all been told that atoms are something like 99.99% empty space.” He knocked lightly of the wooden planks of the building’s wall. “Doesn’t feel like empty space, does it? More proof that the world we all remember is a lie.”
“He’s right,” Alek said. “Actually, if I remember correctly, the nines in the decimal place go all the way out to at least thirteen digits, which means that solid matter really does consist of empty space.”
“Then there’s time,” Herschel said, his voice growing more excited. “We say that the future has not happened yet, the past has already taken place, and the present is simply the line that separates the two.” He looked at Alek with a gleam in his eye. “Well, how long is the present? It’s shorter than a nanosecond. In fact, it’s shorter than anything we can measure. Therefore, the present is a period so short that we can say it does not exist, and it separates the future, which does not exist yet, from the past, which no longer exists. In other words, time does not exist and therefore we do not exist.”
“How about people lifting cars off their children,” Alek said. He was sort of getting into it now. “They say it’s adrenalin, but we all know that no human being can lift 3000 pounds with their bare hands, no matter how much adrenaline you pump into them.”
“I’m sure there are hundreds of things we can’t easily explain,” Maya interrupted. “But why would any of this mean we are not from the real Earth?”
Herschel looked at her. “Adaptive physics is the term I believe they use. DNA-based computers are great for running massive life-based simulations, but they are not as accurate as silicon processors or quantum computers.”
“They make things up sometimes,” Alek added, remembering what he had read about them. It was one of the reasons so few people used them.
“The technical term is ‘reality interpolation,’” Maya said. “They sort of fill in the gaps where they are unable to accurately model reality.”