The being walked out past camera frame, whereupon the image shook briefly with an almost imperceptible flash of light, and the man in the seat looked up with wide-eyed concern, mouthing silent words on the audio-less film as he quickly began disconnecting the cables taped to his face, chest and arms.
The Kirlian outline was then seen walking toward him, the man oblivious to its proximity and still wrestling with the wires. Standing behind the man, two shimmering arms reached inside the subject, plunging deep into his torso. The man froze, the look on his face changing, hands rising instinctively to his chest.
It was then Ari Kriegmacher witnessed the most alarming thing he had seen in thirty years of soldiering. The Kirlian being tore the seated man’s own aura out of his body!
Limbs kicked and thrashed for a moment, the physical leg being the first to fall still while the shimmering leg continued to kick as it was pulled backwards through the hip socket, then the arms stopped waving and the head slumped forward. The blue-red avatar was firmly in the grasp of its orange-hued assailant, and as it was pulled completely free from the now still body, a new shape appeared in the hand of the attacker.
Kriegmacher had played this section of tape many times in slo-mo. He couldn’t be certain due to the speed of what came next, but it appeared to be that the form of a dagger was plunged into the aural form of the abductee, and instantly his blue-red image broke apart like fireworks of white light. The orange Kirlian being then sheathed its weapon and walked behind the camera, out of range.
Moments passed as the seconds-hand of the wall clock clicked silently past a whole minute, the lifeless body un-moving in the foreground. Then a white coat sleeve appeared to the left, and slowly the scientist who had been conducting the session appeared. He walked stiffly past the dead body, not pausing to check the subject, indifferent to its fate. Then it reached the door, flicked off the fluorescent lamp, and walked through the wedge of light into the corridor beyond, the room turning black as the door closed behind him.
Though the footage was thirty years old, Kriegmacher knew what was true then would still be true now: beings existed on a another plane, they were capable of hostility, but a weapon existed for erasing them from that plane, in effect annihilating the very spirit, if that indeed was what he had seen on film.
If they found the parallel Earth occupied and if peaceful efforts to cooperate could not be brokered, he had to acquire this technology he had witnessed. It occurred to the General that with a massive particle accelerator at his disposal, the technique of Kirlian imaging might be modernized, with photonic magnetization employed as a safety protocol.
He would never forget the day they finally succeeded in isolating one of these creatures. The science geeks had not only isolated it so it couldn’t move, but had managed to manipulate the boson field that governed the being’s own photonic DNA such that a marker was embedded to allow tracking. They had released it and followed its trail, making careful note of where it spent any length of time.
Shifting their observation panes to these locations and then firing up the dimensional lenses, they hit the jackpot. There were buildings there, and other people seen milling around in what appeared to be physical form, now viewed in their own sphere and not through the simple heat signature view of the Kirlian field.
Now they knew Others existed. Plans needed to be drawn. But they needed more intel. The General had ordered their subject recaptured and held in containment, but for months it had not responded to verbal instructions in any of the multiple languages broadcast in frequencies detectable to both dimensions. Perhaps it was a matter of motivation, Kriegmacher had thought. But how does one ‘motivate’ a subject that cannot be touched?
Physics provided an answer, of sorts. The ‘quantum cage’ that held this being was rolled into position between two sections of pipe in the facility’s particle accelerator. Kriegmacher had explained to his captive through multilingual software that unless he received cooperation, he would again bombard it with energy, then unravel its photonic signature in an attempt to replicate what he had seen the ‘dagger’ do on the film. He had no time for moralizing about the act, even though this constituted First Contact with this particular alien race.
Receiving no response, they had been as good as their threat, but the scientists applied the concept of entangling this being’s photons with other light beams, which were projected into a separate bonding medium, effectively rebuilding this ethereal being particle by particle. Without the need to catalog the complexity of solid matter, the computing memory required to capture and render a copy had surprisingly only been in gigabytes instead of the yottabytes needed to store the photonic markers of a whole human being.
Keeping the creature compartmentalized in different buffers, the physicists had rigged up a way of manipulating the data so it could be visualized and stored within the parameters of secure software on existing communications devices. Then they reassembled all the files as an application Kriegmacher had later made them install on his latest iPhone.
The copy was much more accommodating than the original, the prospect of permanent deletion serving as the leverage Kriegmacher had needed.
It was called a Dae’mon. It was male, and his name was Warujja.
Through Warujja he first learned of the Four Ages of Man and confirmed the existence of four occupied dimensions. Four, not two as they had thought! He was told of the cowardly and greedy Fae’er who possessed technology that could save the planet from its impending doom, but who chose to withhold it. And of the brave Dae’mon faction who recently separated themselves from the Fae’er to help mankind in their time of need. Solid in their own dimension, the Dae’mon could only exist in Earth Prime in a non-corporeal form, unless they could find a way to cohabit with a mortal by mutual consent.
Months passed. Initially their relationship had been one of captivity, but the more new knowledge Warujja provided that advanced Project Sidestep, the more captivity morphed into collaboration, and collaboration into codependence.
Warujja slowly opened Kriegmacher’s eyes to knowledge much deeper than his mandate required. He learned of Earth’s origins beyond the six thousand years of established texts in his own Fourth Age. He learned of the different cultures, histories and people who had populated the planet, going back thirty thousand years. He was tutored in the science of its ancient kings, which had bordered on magic because the science reached down to the elemental level, much as Kriegmacher’s scientists were doing again now.
Warujja observed that it wasn’t the first time such technology had been mastered on Earth, and warned how it’s at the peak of their powers and pride that nations are most prone to fall, unless governed with wisdom and strength. It was central governance that had led ancient king Anu to unite people of all Earth nations in the First Age, and through it, had nearly saved the Race, but for that final betrayal of Tiamet.
When Warujja asked Kriegmacher which president or king he trusted to unite the world today, the General found himself unable to answer with any conviction.
As his instruction continued late at night and in secret chambers, Kriegmacher found Warujja to be an excellent teacher and advisor. He learned of the merciless Builders who lay in wait to destroy the planet as it intersected with their own galaxy two years hence.
Eventually the Dae’mon volunteered an insight most intriguing. He spoke of the Scepter of Rule, a device of such power and authority that any who learned to wield it would become Defender of Earth, Lord of the Four Worlds, equal to the Builders. This, he was told, was the very device that lay at the heart of King Anu’s glorious rule, far more potent than even the Kirlian dagger that had first piqued Kriegmacher’s interest. The Scepter focused bosons, channeled dark matter. A person holding this could change reality at the photonic level, not by nanoscopic manipulation in the lab, but through the power of thought alone.
But only a wise man could command it. Only a pure man with the interests of his people at heart could serve as
the focusing lens, free of cloud or distortion, unmarred by crack or schism. A heart with the clarity of crystal. A mind with the purity of fire. Such a person could have the universe flow through them, rearrange it at will, and see all matter from the smallest particle to the largest star move in obedience to their will.
But where could such be found?
Kriegmacher had never considered himself a covetous man, nor one of great ego. Naturally, he was confident, but this didn’t constitute pride. Any soldier whose steel had been tested and tempered in the fires of battle knew for a certainty of their own worth. His life had been one of service to his country.
Yet as Warujja told him of times past and of the struggles to come, he found himself understanding that his world’s entire history would be for naught if it allowed itself to be judged unjustly by the old outdated rules of those hostile Builders, and if it stood defenseless in its passage through the Rough Space that lay ahead.
Should the fate of Earth be dictated by greedy bankers and inbred nobles? Could the leader of any current nation be trusted with the fate of all? He found himself wondering. He had wondered about it from the start, hadn’t he?
Warujja had told Kriegmacher much more than the General shared with his superiors. Such knowledge would be dangerous in the wrong hands. He had no obligation other than to pass on insight that would advance the Project itself, and not this extracurricular wisdom.
Then one day he asked a question the Dae’mon had been patiently waiting for: “Where is the Scepter of Rule?”
Alas, that wondrous ‘reality beam’ had been lost Ages ago, along with King Anu. Both had fallen in battle and were lost to time.
Yet Warujja had heard that clues to the whereabouts of the Scepter may be in the custody of a group called the Cassandra Foundation, a cadre of meddlers he explained were even older than the banks and nobles funding GRID. Warujja could not say where members of this Foundation could be found, but he would start Kriegmacher on the right path if he was prepared to pay the price.
After hearing it, Kriegmacher knew he was willing. It occurred to him that his entire career had been leading irrevocably to this decision. A matter of fate.
The Dae’mon had only two requests for him.
A first requirement was for Kriegmacher to focus on techniques Warujja would school him in that would help polish the lens through which the Scepter would channel itself, that lens being the union of his own heart and mind.
The General would need to sculpt himself physically, emotionally and mentally to achieve balance. It would require meditation, exercise, proper nutrition and adequate rest for him to be centered, focused and energized.
He would explore physics and metaphysics to see how numbers and words underpinned the geometry of the universe. When he learned to see the connections between all things both on the surface and in the spaces between, he would become as pure glass, ready to channel the Scepter.
To help him understand, Warujja had told Kriegmacher that he was like the black lens cap to a camera, and he needed to make that lens cap clear for the light to fall through so any image he could think of would be etched onto the material world.
The second requirement was that as Warujja served the General’s interests, Kriegmacher would one day set him free from his digital prison.
WARUJJA’S INSTRUCTIONS had borne much fruit over the past year. So it was natural that Kriegmacher should call on him to deal with the thefts at Burroughs Labs.
Reaching into a pocket he pulled out his iPhone, slid the button, dabbed at the icon labeled ‘iSprite’, and entered the code that would unlock the being imprisoned in the matrix.
An image formed.
Warujja had no horns and sported no barbed tail. Dour of mien, dark of eye, he stared out with a human’s face, eyes and nose somewhat Eurasian in style, his white hair swept back over ears slightly pinched at the tips, a reflection of men who had lived in the First Age.
While Kriegmacher’s phone was a prototype version with cameras on both sides, he kept the lenses covered by a sliver of tape, denying the Dae’mon visual stimuli. The being stared without focus as a blind man, unable to see his captor.
“Warujja, I have a problem. Someone is stealing GRID material from Burroughs Labs in Britain. It’s batteries and other devices being developed for my teams to operate in realms where light and sound function differently. When we make our first Sidestep, it’s equipment my team will need. We have to get it back. I suspect an inside job, but Security hasn’t been able to pin the thefts on anyone. They enter invisibly, appear on no cameras, and leave no clues. They seem to come and go at their pleasure.”
Warujja considered.
“Do the scenes show residue of a dimensional crack?”
The General shook his head.
“McGregor wouldn’t know to scan for that, but I’ll send a team. Though I don’t see why the Fae’er or any Othersider would steal what would be inferior technology from us, especially when it’s unlikely to work where they come from.”
Warujja indicated assent.
“Unless they have agents who need it here. Or it may be the work of very skilled intruders from one of the tribes in your world whose aim is profit, power or the means to induce fear.”
“Terrorists.” Kriegmacher tried to conceal his irritation. “No. Our spooks would have intercepted the chatter. Unless I’m being lied to, other agencies are as much in the dark as to what’s going on at Burroughs as GRID is.”
Warujja smiled pleasantly.
“What is it you wish me to do?”
“I’ll upload the specs for the material that’s been taken. Plug yourself into the phone’s browser and run a scan. See if you can find any conflict where it might have been used. Also search the grey markets: find out if any of it has been offered for sale. We might be dealing with nothing more than burglary for the sake of raising cash.”
He took a deep breath. By the time he exhaled, the Dae’mon had completed seventy thousand searches through various online databases, though unable to leave the phone.
“Nothing presents itself. There is another possibility”, Warujja murmured, “that I am sure has already crossed your mind.”
“The Longcoats.”
In their sessions together Warujja had mentioned his suspicion of connections between the Fae’er and the Cassandra Foundation. Since first hearing of the Foundation, Kriegmacher had plumbed his networks for connections, an address, anything, and had found no leads. Warujja suggested that while he also did not know where to find them (the many properties and structures they owned were unoccupied), he was sure the Foundation was giving weapons to children in urban areas, forming a secret militia ready to rise up and take arms under the very noses of the authorities.
Kriegmacher had encountered such kids before, in Vietnam, Sierra Leone and Burundi, always recruited and brainwashed to commit acts of violence against those deemed the enemies of their gang’s ringleaders.
He had been even more shocked when Warujja had intimated these ‘Longcoats’ already existed in major cities worldwide, waiting for the command to rise up. The thought of it gave him chills.
He nodded slowly. “Yes, the Longcoats. They’d certainly want the equipment from Burroughs, and they’d have access to Fae’er infiltration tools through the Cassandra Foundation. It’s worth checking out.”
Then the General noted Warujja’s face was ashen, and asked his condition.
“You have stolen my light from one state and transferred it to another. From organic to electronic. Mark me, General, while I am pleased to serve you, I fear after all this time I am fading away in this unnatural place. I long to walk in the sun instead of this wretched darkness. Have I not proven loyal?”
It was not the first time the Dae’mon had asked, but Kriegmacher knew the software that held the being was not losing resolution.
“Warujja, when you meet your obligation and I have the Scepter in my grasp, I will meet my obligation to fully release you. But until then,
I shall look into options to grant a broader range of mobility and interests.”
The Dae’mon’s face was downcast, the eyes baleful.
“Do not wait too long. There are many ways I can assist you, not all of them by remaining trapped in your pocket.”
“Warujja, I would rather you be in my pocket than I in yours.”
A flash of reaction, then the floating image returned to staring absently around the screen. Did he just look directly at me? wondered Kriegmacher. He watched a moment longer. No, impossible. Phone screens were not two-way.
“Great General, perhaps you should try to locate and question Longcoats in Britain. Even if it proved a dry well where the thefts are concerned, you need to assess their level of threat. I regret I cannot offer any physical assistance.”
Kriegmacher nodded. “A useful proposition. I will take steps.” Without giving the Dae’mon a chance to reply, he thumbed the phone off.
Terrorists. Rival companies. Inside job. Longcoats. The list of possible culprits in the thefts at Burroughs Labs was as long as it was diverse.
They would be identified, though. Identified and dealt with. Nothing would stand in his way.
As future ruler of the planet, nothing would dare.
15 The original Astrophysical Journal paper titled “A 2MASS All-Sky View of the Sagittarius Dwarf Galaxy: I. Morphology of the Sagittarius Core and Tidal Arms” (ApJ preprint doi:10.1086/379504) by professors Majewski, Skrutskie, Weinberg and Ostheimer from the Depts. of Astronomy from the Universities of Virginia and Massachusetts, is at: http://www.astro.virginia.edu/~mfs4n/sgr/preprint.pdf. The paper’s treatment of our solar system’s passage through the Sagittarius debris field begins in “Section 5.2.2 The Flatness and Proximity of the Sgr Plane” where it states: “Our proximity to the Sgr plane is a rare coincidence. If Sgr debris passes within a few kpc of the Solar Circle, we are very likely to be amidst that debris. Sections 6.4 and 9 address the implications of this unusual time in Solar System history.” [abridged].
Echoes of Worlds Past Page 17