The Reality Incursion

by Paul Anlee

  As he listened, Greg couldn’t help but think it was all a cruel joke, maybe the cruelest ever. Only a select few would ever know the true goal of Project Vesta. The larger part of humanity must never know about Earth’s impending doom. People have to believe the project is to everyone’s benefit rather than the benefit of the species. As a whole, people are not all that altruistic.

  “To build interest, excitement, and personal investment in the project,” Kathy was saying, “we will establish a colonists’ lottery for anyone who is interested in moving to a new frontier. We will reserve seventy percent of the available spaces for people we select for expertise in a cross section of fields like science, technology, business, humanities, arts, and leadership. That will be done by a committee appointed through this working group. Everyone else will be selected by lottery.

  “That is the essence of the proposal. I’m sure you have many questions, concerns, and objections, and we are prepared to consider your more experienced advice.” With that, she concluded her presentation and stood in anticipation of the onslaught she expected to follow.

  “Trust,” President Chu said, shaking his head. His voice was quiet and sounded bitter. “How do we trust that there will be no disproportionate advantage? That countries will not seek to benefit by currency devaluations or military power? The world has not been a trusting place since…well…ever, really. Particularly over the past hundred years since technology made the development of global empires possible. How are we to trust each other to cooperate and be at peace for a twenty-year stretch?”

  “We turn to the tools we’ve always used to build trust in each other: treaties and openness,” answered Kathy. “Through meetings such as this one today, we can develop treaties of cooperation. Under the pressure of the Eater’s threat to humanity, and with the assistance of our lattice enhancements, we will need to develop those treaties rapidly.

  “If you will open your internal computer servers to Greg and me, with your permission, we can use our lattices in confidence to guarantee openness among treaty signatories.”

  As expected, a din of protest rose up.

  Incensed, Prince Bashir of Saudi Arabia shouted, “We cannot permit state secrets to be divulged to other interests. That is preposterous and offensive to Allah.” Others were shouting similar exhortations.

  They were outside their expertise, losing ground, and it was terrifying; they could lose everything they’d gained right here.

  Before Kathy could respond, the room went suddenly and eerily quiet. All around her, eyes closed and heads leaned back.

  What’s happening?—she sent to Greg.

  I have no idea—he replied, just as confused.

  28

  “We have something to show you,” Crissea announced.

  Darak’s brows shot up. “Something to show me?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m intrigued. It’s been a while since I’ve had an actual surprise. I believe Brother Stralasi may have been the last one.” This came as a revelation to the Good Brother.

  “Mm,” Crissea agreed, sharing some inside joke that was beyond the Good Brother’s understanding.

  The three were relaxing and enjoying one another’s company while waiting for the Coordina’s decision. Stralasi was contemplating Darak’s invitation to help judge the Living God’s Divine Plan; it was not something to be considered lightly.

  “It’s not on Eso-La, though,” Crissea added. “We’ll need to travel to get to it.”

  “Then, by all means, please lead on.”

  Darak and Brother Stralasi followed Crissea through the gardens to the arrival platform. They descended through the rock-like strata of Eso-La to the same vessel that had retrieved their bubble in space. This time, Crissea escorted them to an observation chamber in the ship. Her Familiar hovered past them and into a tight-fitting control room; the door whooshed shut behind it.

  Crissea sat in one of the four reclining chairs in the chamber and motioned for Stralasi and Darak to take their own seats.

  “We will travel at a lower acceleration to reduce any potential discomfort,” she assured Stralasi.

  “Don’t worry about me,” he replied, somewhat indignantly.

  “It might be for the better,” Darak soothed. “The Esu are more robust than they appear.”

  Stralasi harrumphed while Crissea diplomatically hid a smile. “We have our limits,” she said graciously.

  “We can dispense with physical accommodations and discomfort, if our hostess will allow me to alter the local effect of such acceleration,” Darak suggested.

  “Normally, we frown on that technology,” Crissea replied, “but this is your surprise to experience so, if you’d rather.”

  “It is done,” said Darak, and the ship accelerated away from the ringworld at 10g. “I’m eager to see what you’ve arranged for me.”

  They shot parallel to the backside of the ring, and curled around the atmosphere-containing wall to the inner edge. The ship sped along a few thousand kilometers above the atmosphere.

  Crissea explained to her guests, “Our surprise is closer to the far side of Eso-La. But rather than take a train to the docking station, I thought you might appreciate an aerial tour of our world. Our route will take us along the inner arc of the ring and to the other side before moving above the orbital plane. We’ll catch an exceptional view of the ring from there.”

  As she said this, the chamber walls, floor, and ceiling turned transparent, except for the control room wall directly in front of them. To all appearances, the three of them seemed to be sitting on chairs moving rapidly through space.

  Stralasi gave silent thanks for his travel experiences with Darak. Without the prior terrors of finding himself suspended over strange planets and asteroids, this trip would have sent him into paroxysms of panic in front of the fascinating Crissea. He was glad not to have to endure that embarrassment.

  The majestic scale of Eso-La unfolded beneath them. Enormous oceans, continents, and cloudscapes were mesmerizing from this distance. Stralasi imagined they must be magnificent up close.

  Despite their speed, the landscape below unrolled slowly. The enormity of ringworlds had always filled him with awe. Just think, each of those ponds far below is an ocean, and the furrowed ridges are entire mountain ranges!

  He was surprised not to see any large cities. A few times, he spotted the lights of civilization at the edge of regions darkened by the night-synthesizing shades moving along their rails. But the shades blocked their view into the darkest areas. Is it possible all cities along our route are in their night time now?—he wondered. That seemed like too much of a coincidence. Darak had hinted that cities might not be so common here. Surely, the people of Eso-La, the Esu, enjoyed urban life as much as anyone?

  After an hour, the ship turned away from the arc of the ringworld and pointed into deep space. Eso-La fell quickly behind them. Thirty minutes later, Crissea announced they were at the halfway point. The ship flipped its tail away from the ringworld and began decelerating.

  The entire ring was visible from their position above its orbital plane, though Stralasi could make out no details other than alternating light and dark bands. The ring continued to recede, though its pace slowed and slowed over the next hour.

  “I didn’t see any cities,” Stralasi said to Crissea. “Aren’t ringworlds intended to house extremely large populations? I thought there would be huge cities. Are they too small to spot from here?”

  “The Amphi was near the center of one of our largest living areas,” Crissea answered.

  Darak stepped in to bridge their gap in understanding. “I’m not sure Ontro would recognize one of your cities as such. The Alumit still grows individual above-ground, climate-controlled cerraffices.”

  “Oh,” Crissea responded. “Well, as Darak said earlier, we have ring-wide climate control. The weather is always pleasant, even when it’s necessary to permit rain in a region. In addition, we can modify our metabolisms at will, as neces
sary. For example, if one wished to live in the oceans or high in the mountains, their body can be adapted to make the conditions comfortable.”

  “Why don’t you just put on extra clothing?” asked Stralasi.

  Crissea laughed. “Our garments are completely decorative. Why should a body ever feel uncomfortable when it can simply be adjusted to suit its environment? Which makes more sense?”

  Stralasi thought about the strange worlds and environments he and Darak had visited. He had to concede that, at least on a planetary scale, Alum agreed with Crissea. The Esu just extended the technology an extra degree. But he had to ask, “What about rain or snow? How do you protect your things?”

  “What things?”

  “Why, your things, your personal belongings. There must be certain things, consistent things, across all worlds and civilizations, along with some sort of storage units, housing, or facilities, are there not? Things like dishes, and clothes, and…and…entertainment units, and what about bathrooms, he blurted, “Where do you shower or clean yourselves?”

  “When needed, such facilities rise from the ground,” answered Crissea. “Or one could bathe in any number of public or private pools.”

  Again stepping in as liaison, Darak clarified. “The Esu have no need to arrange things as in your society. They can recycle and recreate practically anything on demand. Most of their machinery is hidden in the substrate; you wouldn’t notice it if it weren’t pointed out.”

  “Where do you sleep? How do you get privacy? What about personal security?” Stralasi peppered Crissea with questions as they occurred to him.

  “We rest when and where needed, against a tree, by a pool, on a bed of moss,” the woman replied, “though we seldom require extensive periods of inactivity. We edited that need from our genome long ago.”

  Stralasi was stunned. He knew Darak never seemed to require rest, but he’d attributed that to his supernatural powers.

  “As for privacy,” Crissea continued. “If I ask, people won’t look. And as for security, what do I need to be safe from? The local animals and insects are duty-allocated by Central Coordina; they present no danger.” She hesitated. “Unless you mean, do I fear threats from my own people?”

  Stralasi forcibly shut his gaping jaw. He suppressed his preconceived notions and expectations, and opened his mind to this different way of living and thinking. “I guess I have a lot to learn,” he admitted.

  Crissea could read the effort it took him. She touched his hand. “We all have much to learn. I will always have time to answer your questions, Ontro.” Her eyes sparkled with kindness, and Stralasi felt his heart beat faster in response.

  “Oh, I see we’ve arrived,” Crissea said, breaking the spell she had cast over the Good Brother. Shaking himself back to attention, Stralasi noticed Darak tilting his head as if trying to hear a soft whisper or puzzle out something he was looking at. Stralasi had not seen him perform such an action in all the time he’d known him.

  “No,” Darak said, looking genuinely surprised. “You didn’t!” His face radiated wonder and disbelief.

  “Didn’t what?” demanded Stralasi. “What’s going on?” He’d been too distracted by the conversation to notice that the chamber walls had gone opaque again. He looked around the observation room, bewildered.

  “Patience,” replied Crissea as the door to their ship opened again on a darkened room. “One moment. The controls are a bit unfamiliar. Oh, there it is.”

  The lights came on, revealing an enormous cavern, at least five hundred meters across. A small desk with a control device sat to one side. Much of the space was taken up by a silvery reflective sphere surrounded by a black metal cage. Unfamiliar devices were distributed evenly over the cage.

  Darak was beside himself with joy. A tear rolled down his cheek.

  “I give up. What are we looking at?” Stralasi asked.

  “Thank you, Crissea,” Darak said. “I don’t know how you did it. All these millions of years! Thank you.”

  She smiled and bowed. “When we first found these among the asteroids we were mining, we didn’t understand what they might be. Our studies eventually revealed their nature, and we deduced you had put them there.”

  “What is it?” asked Stralasi, a little more insistent.

  “This is the main integration and control center of the biggest and strangest eye the known universe has ever seen,” Darak explained. “I called it a Soltron Detector. It converts an exotic particle passing through it into visible light.” He paused to see if Stralasi was following.

  The Brother concentrated. Oh, bother, another science lesson. Okay, let me have it!—he said to himself.

  “You see, a long time ago I lost something. Or more precisely, I lost track of it after Alum moved it. Are you familiar with the story of how the Origin planet was destroyed?”

  “Yes, everyone knows about the Da’arkness and Origin. We learn that as children.”

  “Well, we called it the Eater, that thing you know as the Da’arkness. And when it consumed normal matter, it gave off a particular kind of radiation not known in the real universe.”

  “I built these detectors,” he said, pointing toward the cage, “as a kind of interface between those particles and normal matter. The details are unimportant. What’s important is that a large enough array tells me the direction in which I can find the Eater. If I can triangulate with the other arrays I’ve placed around the Realm, I can find it again.”

  “Why would you want to do that? Why would you be interested in finding the Da’arkness again? It’s only good for destruction.”

  “Destruction may be what it does, but that’s not what it is,” replied Darak.

  Stralasi was tired and becoming frustrated by the man’s enigmatic answers. “Well then, what is it that’s so important?”

  “It could be the key to finding a long lost friend.”

  29

  Well, ain’t that just a kick in the teeth?—thought Secretary of State, Virgil Hartland. Fascinating, and terrifying. Mostly, terrifying.

  When he’d accepted the invitation to attend this special meeting of the G26, he didn’t know it would be his ticket to survival. Learning that the world would face certain destruction in his lifetime had come as a shock. He was thankful to be counted among the select group chosen to be evacuated. The powerful always looked after their own.

  He’d have to work hard if he was going to maintain a high ranking in the political arena long-term and ensure safe harbor for himself and his family. Evacuation would begin in twelve years. He might have to wait a little longer since, in order to maintain secrecy and order, a number of high-profile individuals including politicians would be among the last shipped out. Contrary to what one might think, this wasn’t a particularly reassuring thought. No doubt the world would be giving way to utter chaos by then.

  He had to give the pair credit. It was a testament to the couple’s abilities and thoroughness that the many scientists and engineers present appeared to be satisfied with the plan. Those high-tech types never agreed on anything.

  The colonization program outlined by the two scientists sounded reasonable enough to someone, like him, with only degrees in economics and law. The demonstrations showing the threat of the Eater, the floating Cybrid, and the potato bullet were all impressive. He appreciated such demos as theater of the best kind, and they’d been effective.

  Unfortunately, their follow up and call to action fell short. In his humble opinion, it was all going to fall tragically short if someone with strong leadership didn’t step forward quickly.

  The couple had done alright until they started pointing to extensive references and academic-style political and economic models. In a nutshell, their well-formulated proposal sounded incredibly naïve.

  For starters, like so many utopian thinkers of the past, the success of their plan depended on people behaving themselves.

  Heck, what could possibly go wrong there?—he chuckled.

  He didn’t faul
t the pair, though. Their expertise was as scientists, theory-burdened academics, career intellectuals. They were young and inexperienced in the political and social arena. They lacked the “real world” lived experience that he, Virgil Hartland, brought to the game. He had his own fair share of shortcomings, but he was not naïve. They needed someone with his skills if they were going to pull this off.

  President Chu’s comments had gotten him thinking. They’ll have to build trust to get cooperation. How are they going to create trust among people who’ve spent a lifetime seeking advantage for themselves and their constituencies?

  If there was one thing politics had taught him, it was this: No matter what people claimed, they seldom behaved for the greater good. They had to be cajoled, bribed, threatened, or tricked into doing the right thing. People were, for the most part, unable to extrapolate the effects of political decisions on their futures. They can’t tell right from wrong and good from bad on a larger stage. They latched onto a particular socioeconomic political ideology early in their lives—conservative, liberal, libertarian, socialist—and stuck to it, even when it was contrary to their own best interests or the long-term best interests of their society.

  That’s why we politicians can, and will, say anything to appeal to our voters. We get away with it, too. Time and time again, nobody holds us accountable. Winning votes and power, that’s all that counts. And when we can’t win, we can at least make the other guy lose.

  It’s a nasty game but someone has to play—Hartland smiled wryly. He not only played the game, he loved it, and he was good at it.

  Not so good that I can get everyone back home onboard, though.

  The scientists had sold him on the necessity and urgency; he just couldn’t see a way to move it forward. The proposals were logically sound, well-researched, and intellectually convincing. The problem was that he, and every other politician sitting around that table, knew it would be impossible to sell within their own parties, let alone to a determined opposition. Especially if we can’t tell folks the whole story.