The Reality Incursion (Deplosion Book 2)

by Paul Anlee

  The Eater absorbed the massive explosion and the mushroom cloud that tried to form above it, much as it had absorbed everything else. Only then did humanity accept its doom.

  The populace cried out to be moved to the new asteroid colonies of Vesta, Pallas, and Ceres. The authorities responded that it was impossible. The people revolted. The transportation rockets and the infrastructures that supported them fell to desperate, rioting mobs.

  The few individuals still able to think rationally knew that even if the rockets could be salvaged in time—which they couldn’t—there wouldn’t be enough room for everyone on the refuge asteroids.

  In an effort to comfort and console the masses, the authorities assured them that the best and brightest representatives of humanity, carefully selected for their diversity and depth of intellect, skills, and abilities, would be safely transported to the new colonies, where they would do their best to maximize humanity’s chances of survival.

  On the fifth day following the Eater’s escape from its tank, news broke about whole groups of colonists being forcibly returned from Vesta. Any vestiges of order and control were shattered.

  Everyone knew it was connected to the missing Yeshua's True Guard Church members but nobody, not one person, could come up with solid proof. Not that it would have made any difference.

  The Eater devoured Earth’s atmosphere and great oceans, and began in earnest on the crust. Freed from the pressure of the continent above it, magma erupted in great flows. The Eater absorbed the molten rock as readily as it had the watery oceans.

  And it grew.

  55

  Greg was riveted to the terrifying news broadcasts from Earth, along with everyone else in the asteroid colonies. It was addictive.

  Recognizing the therapeutic value of activity as much as the urgent need to establish a sustainable new colony, the authorities assigned its citizens work to do, food to grow, classes to attend, and Cybrids to supervise.

  A week passed and the transmissions from Earth ceased entirely. By then, everyone was so busy concentrating on making a new home for mankind that they hardly noticed.

  Greg allowed his emotions to return, but with his humanity came grief. He let it wash over him.

  He shifted to the far end of a wooded service tunnel, well away from everyone. He cried for a full day, letting his sorrow have its run. He cried for the loss of Earth and for the loss of its people. He cried for Kathy.

  Then came the anger.

  Alum! Maybe he didn’t physically plant the bomb and release the Eater himself. Maybe that was just a happy coincidence for him. But the coup, returning the knowledgeable specialists and diversity of individuals sent to Vesta, that was all on him.

  Greg listened to Alum’s daily sermons being broadcast over public address speakers. I can understand how his people might believe they’ve been chosen by God, but I don’t believe for a second that Alum himself believes that.

  The Reverend, Alum’s step-father and mentor, had sat in on the selection committee; he’d helped pick the Vesta colonists. Why would Alum undo that? Why would he replace our best candidates for survival with dull-minded sheep?

  Greg understood the lure of power. Thanks to the recent turn of events, Alum’s power was approaching absolute.

  The leader of the YTG church issued directives at a blazing pace during his first few days on Vesta. All undoing the way we set up the Administration.

  Alum pronounced new policies and laws daily. He removed the Cybrids from any say in how the colonies were run, He decreed that, effective immediately, Cybrids were to have only very limited access to all habitat tunnels, and were to be closely supervised by a human at all times.

  Why would he do that? What an idiot!—Greg silently fumed. He didn’t dare utter the thoughts to anyone but himself. He couldn’t risk drawing attention.

  Drawing on his officially documented skills, the bureaucrats awarded Greg with one of the coveted Cybrid Supervisor posts.

  He supposed he ought to be grateful Alum hadn’t insisted on human supervision of the Cybrids’ work out in the far reaches of space. Imagine us clumsy, delicate humans telling Cybrids what to do in vacuum! Cybrids were made for that environment; they knew their specialties better than any human could. Cybrids have already constructed eight perfectly viable colonies without any of us looking over their shoulders. I think they can manage this just fine all by themselves. Non-experts telling them what to do would be a total farce, and could only lead to trouble. There are so many more important things I could be doing.

  The scientist accepted his new post and assigned tasks with equanimity, and did his best to be a good and humane Supervisor. The distractions of work brought him a sense of routine and engagement that allowed him to process his grief.

  One morning, he found a space suit in a storage room off the service corridor where his team was working. Alone for the moment, he tried it on. If anyone notices, I’ll just tell them I was trying it on for fun. Who wouldn’t want to try on a space suit?

  He checked the seals, activated the electronics, and checked the air tank. He made sure “his” Cybrids were fine for the next hour, and shifted to a point in high Earth orbit, where he floated undetected beside a now useless satellite. The Eater had converted much of the “normal” matter of Earth into its own nearly weightless exotic matter.

  More than half of his home planet was shadowed by the gray-black body of the Eater. When did I start thinking in terms of my “home” planet versus...—he couldn’t bring himself to finish the thought.

  It won’t be long now; the Eater’s expanding rapidly.

  He wondered what held the gray sphere to its position on the Earth. For that matter, what holds it to Earth at all?

  There had to be some connection to the basic inertial reference frame, the bent space-time of Earth. What’ll happen when that reference frame is gone? Will the Eater take over Earth’s orbit around the sun or wander off along some vector of its own? Greg calculated some potential trajectories; some of the paths would pose a threat to the new colonies.

  As he watched, calculated, and contemplated, the Eater consumed the last of his planet. Greg closed his eyes against the dark sphere now orbiting where a pale blue dot had once been humanity’s home. His home.

  It was time to accept his new life. He shifted back to Pallas.

  - The End -

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  And if you’ve enjoyed Book 2, The Reality Incursion, I invite you to turn the page and read on for Exclusive Extras and a Preview of

  The Reality Rebellions

  Book Three in the Deplosion series

  The Reality Rebellions (preview)

  Deplosion: Book Three

  Coming: Fall 2017

  Jared Strang, ex-Member of the British Parliament, ex-Minister of Foreign Affairs, current Manager of Human-Cybrid relations for the Vesta Project, was baffled. Surely, he’d misheard. His eyes shifted uncertainly between Alum and Dona Ridgeway, Alum’s Chief of Staff.

  “But if we don’t allow the Cybrids to work in the populated colonies, how will we manage? The colonists aren’t exactly trained to expand the living spaces, or even to maintain them for that matter.”

  Alum stroked his chin but said nothing. He raised an eyebrow toward Ridgeway, inviting her to answer on his behalf.

  “We humans managed to build an entire civilization on Earth without resorting to cybernetic robots. And we did perfectly fine, don’t you think?” She smiled tightly at the civil servant and adjusted her glasses.

  Strang coughed into his fist. “Well, yes, clearly,” he agreed. “But the Cybrids have the requisite skills and experience for this environment. Not to mention, all our available heavy equipment is either integral to their bodies or design
ed to be operated exclusively by them. Even if we had machinery built for humans, we don’t know what expertise is available among the colonists. My hunch is we’re not at risk of being overwhelmed with talent.”

  Ridgeway glanced over at Alum. He nodded for her to continue.

  “I assure you that our databases are quite thorough, Mr. Strang. Training classes will fill in any gaps over time.”

  Strang sat forward, “You don’t understand,” he interrupted. “We don’t have time. There is no Plan B. This has to…”

  Alum held up a shushing finger, silencing Strang mid-sentence. “People must have purpose in their lives. The socio-economic history of Earth demonstrates what happens when people are idle and feel useless. Political opportunism, unrest, riots, social breakdown—we will not permit Vesta to head down that path.”

  Strang flopped back in his chair. “No, surely not.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed his eyes. “Is there any way we could have skilled people shadow some of the Cybrids as they go about their work? A kind of on-the-job training program, so to speak.”

  Alum nodded as if considering the merits of Strang’s suggestion. “Mr. Strang, I understand you’ve never been a member of our Church, but surely you are a Christian, yes?”

  Strang’s mouth worked through several possible responses before settling on, “Surely.”

  In truth, he believed personal beliefs should remain personal, not be trotted out for public display. Still, it was better not to say too much; one had to be aware who currently held the power on the Vesta colonies.

  “Well, then,” Alum continued, “You know our Lord created man in His image, setting man above all others. Man is above his own creations, the Cybrids for example, just as God is above His creation, namely us. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  “When you put it that way, what choice do I have?”

  “Exactly. We have an opportunity to reinvigorate God’s universe, and mankind’s place in it, out here among the asteroids. And that begins with the proper humility, with people who value the might of the Lord above all.

  “Cybrids are remnants of the old, evil ways of Earth, Mr. Strang. Mechanical beings have their place, and that place is in the vacuum of space, not among humans. When I… I mean, my father, supported their development, they were not intended to be anything other than a tool, a mechanical extension of our hands to help us build these habitats. That is how they best serve the Lord’s wishes.”

  Strang noted the stutter before Alum spoke of his father; it brought to mind the odd rumors about the young man’s origins, perverse gossip to which few gave much credence. “One might say,” he ventured, “it’s rather…superfluous to have a Manager of Human-Cybrid Relations when, in fact, there are no relations between humans and Cybrids to be managed.”

  “I agree, your role in the administration of these habitats has changed,” Alum sniffed. He pushed his body out of the comfortable chair, and walked over to the window. He called up the construction schematics for the habitats, letting the silence—and Strang’s discomfort—stretch out.

  The Project Manager’s office dominated the fiftieth floor of the highest tower in all of Vesta One, the first of the asteroid’s colony tunnels and the official capital of all the habitats. The windows looked “North” and “South” toward the tunnel’s polar caps lying over two hundred kilometers away in either direction. Below, densely-spaced apartment towers stretched seven kilometers wide before meeting the upward-curving sides of the tunnel.

  Each asteroid contained six colony tunnels arranged like the bullet chambers of a revolver. Each tunnel had a “floor” surface that squared off the arc closest to the asteroid’s surface, and a “ceiling” on the part of the arc closest to the central axis.

  Artificial gravity was provided by spinning the asteroid. Because of this rotation, “down” was always outward, away from the asteroid’s axis, always toward the surface.

  The orientation session reassured new arrivals that, “It’s simple. Think of ‘down’ as the direction your feet sink; it’s the direction that receives the force of your weight. Inside the colony tunnels, the planetoid’s meager natural gravity is overridden by the centrifugal force from the spinning. That’s why we interpret ‘down’ as being toward the outer surface.”

  Several rivers, driven by circulating pumps, ran the length of the tunnels and occasionally widened into long, narrow lakes. Some ran north-to-south in the colony tunnels, and returned south-to-north in the agricultural service tunnels below. Others flowed in the opposite direction to provide balance along their lengths.

  High above, light panels ran the length of the tunnel. They brightened and dimmed in cycles, fourteen on and ten off, driving the daily rhythms of the people, animals, and plants below.

  Project Vesta has done a remarkable job of reproducing the Earth’s ecology in such a small space and in such short time—Alum noted with satisfaction.

  Well, I suppose I’ve kept Strang waiting long enough. Not that he deserves anything more than my simple command.

  “Under the previous administration,” he paused to let that sink in, “you may have seen your job as smoothing over people’s acceptance of the Cybrids and integrating everyone into a workable biology-plus-machine society. That will no longer be the case. The Cybrids are not people; they will never be people in the eyes of the Lord.”

  “Aren’t their mental processes modeled on our own human minds?” Strang asked.

  Alum’s eyes blazed. “They can simulate many human characteristics, no doubt; but they are not human, not flesh and blood. They are not created in God’s image. We have found a place for them where they can be of service to humanity and, thereby, to God’s will. No more. They will never claim a place by our side; to do so would be an abomination.”

  Strang’s gaze shifted to his hands, cradled anxiously in his lap. He observed his fidgeting fingers as if they were something apart from him. “I see. So what exactly is my role to be?”

  Alum glanced at Ms. Ridgeway, who’d been sitting silently through the sermon.

  “As Spiritual Leader of the YTG Church and the de facto leader of humanity, Alum must remain uncontaminated, separate from discussions with the Cybrids,” she explained. “You will communicate our Leader’s directive to them: they are to remain outside the habitat tunnels of the asteroids unless granted specific permission to enter. You will report on their compliance with his will and on their adherence to these laws.”

  “I have no wish to appear unjust or unsympathetic, Mr. Strang,” Alum added. “Not even to machines. But you seem to have lost sight of the fact that Cybrids were designed and constructed to serve humanity, not to replace it. Within those parameters, they will enjoy a fulfilling existence. Perhaps we’ll even develop some form of entertainment for their off-duty hours. You will ensure they understand and cooperate with my directives.”

  “Is this the will of the Governing Council?” Strang asked.

  Ridgeway nearly choked. Before Alum could reply, she jumped in. “The Council exists to provide advice to Alum. He, and he alone, decides.” She set her lips firmly, accepting no further questioning of her Leader’s authority.

  “So the Cybrids are to be our slaves.”

  The crease between Alum’s eyebrows deepened. “Slavery is not an applicable term; they are machines that were built for service. You will not speak of it again.”

  The manager bowed his head. He had seen enough of the local police actions under Alum’s direction to know he should hold his tongue. For the moment.

  As Ms. Ridgeway’s voice droned on in the background, Strang’s attention shifted to conversations he would be having with his colleagues from the original Project Vesta. Not everyone shared Alum’s point of view.

  To continue reading, click here to buy now on Amazon.

  Books by Paul Anlee

  The Deplosion series:

  The Reality Thief

  Buy on Amazon at:

  https://www.amazon.com/Reality-Thief-Deplo
sion-Book-ebook/dp/B06XSML7V5

  The Reality Incursion

  Buy on Amazon at:

  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B074FH1J44

  The Reality Rebellions

  Buy on Amazon at:

  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B078Q84W9G

  The Reality Assertion

  (coming in 2018)

  Other Publications

  Friends in Foreign Places Omnibus Edition

  (contains the Paul Anlee short story: Illegal Alien)

  Buy on Amazon at:

  https://www.amazon.com/Omnibus-Friends-Places-Complete-Anthology-ebook/dp/B01LBDPVC6

  Now available in Spanish, too.

  Buy on Amazon at:

  https://www.amazon.com/Amigos-Lugares-Extranjeros-Friends-Place-Spanish-ebook/dp/B076Q49BNR

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  Points to Ponder

  Book Club & Study Questions

  The Deplosion series is intended to be more than just a story. I hope it inspires thinking and exchange on a variety of philosophical, religious, scientific, and social issues. The following questions will help get you started. Additional discussion can be found on the Paul Anlee Facebook page, and my science and philosophy blog at www.paulanlee.com.

  1) Connecting the brain directly to an electronic interface might permit us to learn new skills (e.g. new language, musical instrument, math, or history). At the same time, it could risk opening our minds to someone trying to alter our beliefs. Compare Darian’s accidental “memory storm” attack on Greg’s and Kathy’s minds with Darya’s and Trillian’s deliberate efforts to change the minds of Cybrids and humans. Do you think improvements in learning and communication would be worth the risk of having someone alter what you believe? How are the characters’ attempts to directly change minds different from attempts by advertisers, politicians, and media to sway your thinking? Teachers? Religious leaders? Anyone else?