The Stream

by Mark White

  'I've been continually and quietly looking for evidence for suspicious activities since then, but couldn't easily investigate directly myself as I didn't want to draw attention. That's why I recruited you Kofi; I was looking for someone I could trust, who would have an open and inquisitive mind, and would be tenacious at tracking down anomalies. I remembered those qualities in you from our youth, looked up what you were doing, and gave you a call. I'm glad I did.'

  'One thing I did do was set up the Stream-free areas like the one we're sitting in, on the pretext of helping with Stream maintenance. It was something I'd agree with Safira I'd do, as it might enable her to contact me. Unfortunately though, so far I've heard nothing. I'm not sure why, but clearly it's not as easy as she'd hoped.'

  'First though, we need to try to work out what the Fount is. Until we know that, it's hard to know how to fight back.'

  'Wow, that's a lot to take in all at once,' I said. 'I appreciate your trust in asking me to help with this, and sharing that with me. I think I'm going to need to go and let it all sink in, and obviously take a look at your pool. Other than that, where shall I look next? Whatever is behind this is good at covering its tracks, but it's not infallible. There were definitely breadcrumbs left in the suppressed research results from Raj's projects.'

  'I think it must date back to before the Flood' she said. 'It seems we've been slowly driven in a certain direction since then, but all the pieces were in place by Flood Day. It feels as if it is tied into Raj somehow, but it's not clear whether he was a victim of this program, or a casualty within the ranks of the conspirators. One thing is clear - the world was in a complete mess before Flood Day. There's no argument that the world is now a much safer, sane and peaceful place than it was back then. But at what cost? Have we completely lost our liberty and free will in order to achieve it? Is that a price worth paying? I might argue that considering what we'd become in those dark days, then we've got what we deserve. However we've also imposed this on other races against their will, and have no care for the damage we're doing to the Safirans. I can't live with that. It might be the last thing I do, but I'm going to fight it in every way I can. Are you with me?'

  'Yes,' I replied, somewhat swept up with the passion behind Geraldine's speech. She's some orator when she gets going, and the desk got a good thumping while she was talking. 'Of course, I'll do anything I can to fight this'

  'Great,' she said, calming down and smiling a rueful and slightly embarrassed smile. 'Sorry, I get carried away when roused. So what to do next? Well I'm definitely finding your reports are a great catalyst to get these discussions going, and tease out the details of the wider agenda of what's happening. As things seem to be in place by Flood Day, how about you do a report on the world order before then. Use your historian's mind to summarise the mess the world was in back then, how things got so bad, look for patterns or clues, suspicious activities that didn't make sense, activities that seem to fit into this wider agenda of controlling humanity. Someone must have stood out as doing something unusual, particular someone who was connected with Tethys or in Raj's circle of influence. I still feel Raj is key here, but can't work out how he was used. By the way, don't worry about repeating the outstanding open questions each time, I can keep track of those, but please raise the new ones for clarity. Is that OK?'

  'Sure,' I said. 'That makes sense. I'll go back as far as I need, all the triggers that caused the downward spiral around the world. Maybe some of those triggers were part of this plan, I've no idea yet. How convenient would I be to make the world better and under your control by setting it at rock bottom in the first place?'

  'One final thing Geraldine. Doctor Sosa has been very helpful, and he'd really like to do some research into the link between Edelman ratings and HOME deaths, and whether he can find a direct neurological cause. I'd like to reward him for the help that he's been, and could be in future, but do you think we can risk it? Is it going to draw too much attention to us?' I asked.

  'We can't spend all our lives second guessing who might be watching, otherwise we'll end up doing nothing. Trust me, I've been stuck in that mindset for too long until I recruited you. I think it's worth the risk, in case he does find something of use, and you can use it as a reason to explain why you've visited him. I'll authorise you a budget for the research, but please tell him that all communication on the subject must only be via you, and be fully encrypted. Call it Project Impala, for no reason other than the fact that it's got no meaning whatsoever.'

  With that, we said our goodbyes. I had a lot to think about and digest. Suddenly the world, indeed the universe, was a different place. I'm not sure if my horizons had expanded, or the universe had got smaller, but now everything seemed connected. I needed to make sure I was alone to study Geraldine's pool of her meeting with Safira too so that I could concentrate on every detail. So, time to go home early, avoid Damon Gates, have a stiff drink, and see what happened. I seem to do my best thinking when I'm relaxed. Laphroaig whisky makes me relaxed. So I see drinking it as important for my work.

  Pool: Geraldine Mander - 12th Martius 225PD

  So this is it at last. We've been chasing ghosts through the Confluvium, and with a bit of clever pattern recognition, have traced them back here to the Epsilon Eridani system. Mind you, we've only ever seen brief glimpses of these ghosts up to now. The first sightings were on exploratory vessels, out looking for new inhabitable systems. Grey shadowy shapes of beings would form, and then fade away. No real features could be recognised in these insubstantial ephemera, but they'd been spotted too often to be ignored, and sometimes captured on recordings. No negative effect was ever attributed to them, but it was hard not to view them as a potential threat, especially when sightings began to occur on the world of the Confluvium itself. Even then, there was an odd reluctance in the Decemvirate to expend any significant resources in investigating further, until Marcus Nguyen used his annual executive override to send this expedition. I'm not sure if I was selected for the highest honour in leading this mission, or drew the short straw.

  We've been in the system for a couple of weeks now though, and until this point our search had drawn a blank. No sign of life of any kind were found on the bodies in the system, let alone an advanced civilisation. Then suddenly about an hour ago we were surrounded.

  At least I think we were. All around the Zheng He, at a radius of around a hundred kilometres, appeared a grid of flickering points of light about a kilometre apart, positioned as if on the surface of a sphere, with us at the dead centre. No mass or any form of physical structure could be identified though, they were just white lights, with a slight yellow orange tint, flickering like candles in the wind. In a vacuum. Well it was an impressive way to make contact, but only slightly more substantially than their previous efforts, assuming these are the ghosts of course.

  Still, I'm here to make peaceful contact with these beings, so as this wasn't overtly hostile I continued as planned. I transmitted our pre-prepared greeting message, in English of course as it's the lingua franca of the Confluvium (thanks be to Raj, who felt it was the most widely used language of the ones that he knew) and as we've nothing better to use. 'Greetings. My name is Geraldine Mander. I am the representative of the races of the Confluvium, and come in peace to establish contact between our races. We wish to meet with you and discuss how we can work together for the good of all our people.'

  Immediately a feminine voice replied, in perfect English. 'Greetings Geraldine Mander. I am aware of your name and the Confluvium, and what this represents. My name is Safira. I also wish peaceful contact with you in order to establish the boundaries within which the Confluvium may operate. The status quo cannot be allowed to continue. I wish a face-to-face meeting between the two of us, alone on my shuttle.'

  As she said 'shuttle' a small, perfectly spherical and reflective sphere about ten metres across appeared immediately next to our craft. Proximity alarms blared. I cancelled them quickly and commanded my crew to stay calm. Let's n
ot start a conflict due to difference in cultural expectations. Safira was continuing to speak after a short pause. It's as if she could see how long it took me to calm things down after the shuttle's appearance.

  'No recording equipment will be allowed for either of us. No contact with the Stream or your ship will be allowed for the duration of our parley.' Interesting choice of word I thought. 'You will be allowed to transmit your vital signs to your ship to indicate your health, and will be allowed to transmit an emergency signal at your instigation. You have standard Confluvium equipment aboard your ship to perform these functions. No negotiation on these terms will be undertaken. Please indicate your acceptance to begin the parley.'

  OK, that was abrupt, but clearly well thought through and researched. Cultural difference, remember always, allow for cultural differences. There's no point going back, this is exactly why I'm here. I looked round at my crew and smiled reassuringly. 'Yes I accept,' I transmitted.

  Instantly I was no longer in my ship, but in a small white room standing in front of a typical human chair. There was hardly any sense of dislocation, and the air here was perfectly breathable if a little sterile. A small table was next to the chair, on which my equipment sat. Well they seem true to their word, if a little literal.

  Opposite my chair, about a metre away, sat a being who I can only assume was Safira. She (picking a pronoun at random based on the little evidence I had) was also sat on a chair that fitted her alien form and raised her face to approximately my level. Trying to equate her appearance with Earth analogues, I'd say she was a little like a one metre high flying squirrel, but with long straight legs allowing her to walk upright. Her wings appeared more bat like though, but with the underside covered in what looked like a mass of tiny purple tentacles which undulated in waves, like large cilia. It was strangely hypnotic thing to watch. The back of the wings was covered in a plush velvety fur of a darker purple colour, and it looked as if this extended across her back. Her body was covered in a simple light gown, covering from her neck down to her knees, but leaving her wings fully free. Her face had an feline appearance, which was covered in a light lilac down which spread down her neck beneath her gown, and even had some small twitching whiskers. Interesting how she also had the same facial layout as an Earth cat, but with a slightly flatter face and more human-like mouth. Overall it was an oddly attractive face, with bright, intelligent eyes.

  'Welcome Geraldine Mander. You may call me Safira. Our names are not in a form you could use. You may refer to my race as the Safirans. Apologies for the abruptness of our greeting. It was important we gave the correct appearance to the Stream, and separated you from your ship as quickly as possible. Geraldine Mander, the Confluvium is not what it appears. We wish to persuade you to rectify this Geraldine Mander,' said Safira.

  'Please, call me Geraldine' I said, while letting this unexpected start sink in. Still pretty abrupt I thought. 'It sounds as if you already know much about us and the Confluvium, which puts me at a disadvantage. Please tell me more about yourselves and your civilisation, and I will answer any questions you may have about us.'

  'Yes, we know the races of the Confluvium. We have been studying you since you first came to our attention after you invented your bulk drive,' Safira said, in a flat monotone.

  'What you see in front of you is not my natural form. We native Safirans are an incorporeal intelligence. Our consciousness exists in the substrate of the universe, and leaks through to the bulk from this universe. We evolved in the environs of a planet that was also inhabited by this physical form you see before you. We developed a symbiotic relationship to our mutual benefit, which allowed us to interact more directly with the physical world by sharing their host bodies when required. We boosted their intelligence and empathy as a side effect of this arrangement.'

  'We've not found any trace of life in this system. Did you evolve here?' I asked.

  'No we evolved elsewhere in this galaxy. You do not need to know where. We merely set false trails leading to this system to attract you to a location away from the Confluvium where I could meet you safely in this physical form,' she replied.

  'Why does it need to be away from the Confluvium?' I asked in reply.

  'We are normally able to coalesce into a visible, if insubstantial, form in order to make contact with other races. However when in the presence of your Stream field, we are unable to do so. We at first believed this was an accidental artefact of the field. Now we know it is not. It is a deliberate act. In under a second of us trying to materialise, the field changes actively repulses us back largely into the bulk. You have seen our attempts to make contact. There is an agency in the Confluvium that does not wish us to do so,' she continued. She paused, waiting for me to respond.

  'You'll have to excuse me, but do you have evidence you can provide me to back this up? I can't take this back to the Confluvium and accuse them of something without corroboration,' I said, while trying to think through what I was hearing.

  'We do not wish you to confront the agency within the Confluvium. We do not understand what is the cause of this is yet, or who can be relied upon. However you have seen the resistance to contacting us yourself, it was only through the persistence of Decemvir Marcus Nguyen that you are sitting here before me. Is this not true?' she said.

  'Yes that is true.' I never really understood why this mission met with so much resistance. 'You clearly know a lot more about us than we know about you,' I replied.

  'Although we cannot materialise enough to make contact, we are able to observe. We believe Decemvir Marcus Nguyen can be trusted. He shows signs of believing that all is not as should be in the Confluvium. We believe you can be trusted. We wish you to communicate our grievances to Decemvir Marcus Nguyen and take action to mitigate the effects. We do not wish our grievances to become known widely until we know what agency is acting against us. Will you act on our behalf Geraldine Mander?' she said.

  'In the spirit of peaceful cooperation between us, I am willing to communicate your grievance only with Marcus Nguyen,' I replied. It's his problem then, not mine. Despite which, there was something strangely compelling and trustworthy about Safira. She's not made threats, she'd just stated opinions that actually did match with things that I'd seen. Best to keep a sceptical open mind for now. 'But first, you'll have to tell me what those grievances are.'

  'Our quintessence exists partly within the bulk itself. Your bulk drive rips a hole into the fabric of the bulk. If we are near, we die. Many have died. Now we know of the signature of your drive, we have learnt to sport the early signs, and can avoid. However it is not perfect. The passage of your ships leave a permanent scar in the fabric of the bulk. We do not know the long term effect of this. We do not want to find out. It must stop,' said Safira. It was the first time I'd seen a flicker of recognisable emotion on her face. She seemed more exasperated than angry. I believed her.

  'We have met other races with similar drives in the past. We contacted them and resolved things amicably. Other methods of interstellar transportation are possible. We can help. But we cannot until we make open contact,' she stated bluntly.

  'I don't understand why the Confluvium would want to refuse contact with you. It makes no sense. We could all benefit from your knowledge.' Damn, I'm starting to use short staccato sentences too. 'We've always made open contact with all races we've met until now,' I said.

  'All other races could be assimilated into the Confluvium. You could integrate them into the Stream, subdue and control them. We are not natively corporeal. We cannot be assimilated into the Stream, and hence cannot be controlled like the other races. We are seen as a threat,' she said.

  'A threat? But to who?' I retorted.

  'That is the problem. We do not know. We have not been able to identify the agency acting through the Stream, but believe its source is from within the human faction of the Confluvium. We wish to allow humanity to cure the problem itself, and will give you sufficient time to do so,' she said.

  '
And if we don't?' I asked.

  'We do not wish to threaten. We will only consider further courses of action when necessary. However do not be under any doubt that we are capable of a permanent solution, as much as we would be loath to do so,' she said, giving a good impression of being upset at the thought.

  'Why are you sure that the best approach isn't for me to go back and be public about this problem? Surely once word is out it will be hard to suppress discussion?' I said.

  'We would strongly recommend that you do nothing until you have discussed this with Decemvir Marcus Nguyen. If he decides this is the best course of action, then you may do so. For now though, you should send back a false report on this meeting, consistent with the greeting I transmitted to your ship. Say that we do not want further contact with you, and we agree to leave the Confluvium alone on the condition that you do not venture outside a fifty light year radius of Earth. You may do what you like inside there, but if you venture outside, any ship will be disabled, and punitive action taken,' she said.

  'Why would you wish to sound more threatening than you intend to be? That will immediately cause hostility within the Confluvium,' I objected.

  'It is for your protection. You are not the first human we have contacted concerning the bulk drive. The first person did not survive the return to Earth, but we believe our message is known to the hostile agency. We did not know of this agency at the time. This story is consistent with the truth of the damage to the bulk, so may not arouse suspicion. We wish to give the impression that we are attempting to contain the damage. This is to give you time to investigate and make amends,' she said.