THE CUBE

by Alex Gore

  An hour had passed without noticing.

  The opening of the door took them out of their stupor. The Major and Babyface came in the room, supporting Michael on both sides. The young man was very pale and could barely move his feet. Norman went to Hans, who still sat on the floor with crossed legs. The Lieutenant, almost dragging the wounded, helped him to a bunk in the corner.

  Meanwhile Ivanov had raised up, seeming surprisingly well and was sitting in his bed, ignoring her requests to lie down and rest. The tube of the IV was dangling helplessly from his giant arm.

  Babyface had put Michael on the bunk next to his and Marcela had injected to him a sedative. She bandaged again his arm, which looked healed and left him rest.

  Alan was drugged and snoring.

  “Hans, how are you?”, Norman leaned above the German. “I’m okay, why?”

  “Well, March said you haven’t drunk water or eaten since

  yesterday. Are you sure everything is all right?”

  “Yes. I know how we can destroy the Cube.” His voice sounded

  calm and confident.

  “And how can this happen, dear?”

  “Have you heard of ‘Mandela’s effect’?”

  “No, we haven’t, Hans, what effect is that?” Norman’s tone

  was gentle and delicate. He thought he did not find the smallest

  reason for concern about the Professor’s mental health. He looked

  and sounded perfectly normal.

  “There are events about which millions of people have different

  memories, compared to the other inhabitants of the world. Some

  call it mass psychosis or just technical small discrepancies in

  memorizing, but there is another hypothesis. You all know who

  Nelson Mandela is, right?”

  “But of course.”

  “Can you tell me what you remember about his death?” “He died while in prison, didn’t he… back in the 80-ies. I’m

  not exactly sure, but it was in 1985 or 1986…” Marcela said. “No, you are wrong March, he was released from prison and died in 2013, his funeral was on TV, I remember very clearly the

  huge posters with his name, hanging on the walls”, Norman said. “That’s it”, Hans said standing up from the floor, returning

  instantly to his typical gait. “You are both right.”

  “But how can it be?! Impossible!”

  “The truth is that Nelson Mandela died in 2013, but there is

  a large group of people all over the world who state that Nelson

  Mandela definitely died in prison in the 80-ies. They accept it as

  a real fact. They even have a memory about a court trial after his

  death with the participation of his widow about the rights for

  a book. Also, thousands of people are ready to swear that after

  his death they watched benefit concerts on TV after his death

  and many celebrities wore t-shirts with his prison number 46664,

  honoring him in this way. Some go even further, mentioning

  the reason for the death of the South American leader – from

  tuberculosis in prison in 1986. The official historic reference

  proves that Nelson Mandela really suffered from tuberculosis in

  prison because of the hard conditions there, moreover, precisely

  in the 80-ies of the previous century. There is a theory, according

  to which at that moment a splitting of reality happened in two

  new parallel universes, in one of which Mandela died in 1986,

  and in the other he continued to live till 2013. You remember the

  message from the ship, don’t you? 1986.”

  “The prison number is quite interesting too, with many sixes

  in it”, Babyface added.

  “There are many other similar contradictions in group memory

  about famous public events. For instance, the wide spread photo

  from Tiananmen Square, in which a student puts his body in the

  way of the tanks. Most people remember how they saw on TV the

  rest of the protestants pushing him off the street and saving his

  life. Many others are convinced, though, that they saw the tanks

  smash him. He just dies.”

  “I don’t believe this crap”, Michael interjected surprisingly. He had recovered from the anaesthetic and had obviously listened

  quietly the whole time.

  “And what are those contradictions due to?” Norman asked in

  a serious tone.

  “There is a theory, according to which after the CERN

  accelerator of particles started working in Switzerland, some

  strange events happened, capable of influencing the time-space

  continuum. One way or another, if there is splitting of realities

  in a singularity point, caused by the collider, why would not the

  Core have a similar effect? Michael opposes this theory, but I will

  ask him: Michael, you have seen ‘Star Wars’, haven’t you?” “Sure, who hasn’t?”

  “Do you remember how Darth Vader cut Luke Skywalker’s

  hand above the wrist and confessed he was his father?” “Yes, this is the second film, ‘The Empire Strikes Back’.” “Do you remember the exact words?”

  “Of course, Luke is hanging on the wall and Lord Vader tells

  him: ‘Luke, I’m your father’.”

  “Here, see? You are the very proof of the authenticity of the

  ‘Mandela effect’. Half of the people, including the man with the

  hoarse voice, the actor James Earl Jones, swear that the line is as

  you say: ‘Luke, I’m your father’. But in reality, if you see the film,

  you’ll be informed that the real phrase is: ‘No… I am your father’.” “Not true, this cannot be, you are fucking with my kid’s

  memories. There is no way what you say to be correct.” “In one reality it is the first version, in the other – the second.

  It is stated that the people from one parallel universe have one set

  of memories, while those in the second experienced a different

  set. In some way both realities intertwine in a particular point…

  or they split in the same one.”

  “Look, Hans, all this is very intriguing, but what does it have

  to do with our situation?”

  “Have patience, Major, everything will become clear to you very soon. These creatures, our copies, are from another universe, aren’t they? And they are conceived by the Cube or arrived here with its help, right? And which is the source of the Cube’s vital

  energy?”

  “I don’t think anybody can answer that question”, Marcela

  suggested tentatively. “The Cub is not anything alive, that needs

  energy.”

  Everybody remained quiet in waiting, not daring to move, in

  order not to confuse Hans.

  “On the contrary, the Cube is as much alive, as you and I.” “But, Hans you don’t think it’s organic, do you? At least from

  what we found out through spectral analysis I don’t believe it is

  organic matter”, Marcela said.

  “Yes, it might not be based on carbon, as are all living organisms on our planet, but it is alive. It is from another planet on

  which probably life was conceived and is maintained by different

  principle. Do you remember how the Cube was connected to us?

  It was literally knitted together with the non-live matter of our

  world through the corals. Maybe it needs live matter to feed on, to

  draw energy and substances from it. To copy its DNA in order to

  create its doubles. The Cube is at the same time alive and non-live,

  it creates doubles for the sake of preserving life.”

  “And how exactly does it ‘prese
rve life’ by killing us all, in a

  very cruel manner too?”

  “Yes, it kills only the types that are aggressive and bad, creating

  their opposites.”

  “Well if we are the good and the cool, it means it creates nasty

  people, who then kill the cool guys. I can’t make sense of it, rather

  it seems to me vice versa.“ Michael frowned.

  “Precisely, because it is ‘vice versa’, Mikey. Don’t forget that

  it comes from a parallel universe, mirror-like to ours, in which

  everything is the direct opposite”, Hans smiled at him. “So there, in this ‘upside down’ universe, the Cube makes good

  doubles from the good guys and bad from the bad, is that it?” “Exactly.”

  “A marvelous suggestion, which we have no way to prove”,

  Norman sighed. “But how is this going to help us make it toast?” “Do you remember how the corals appeared according to

  Greek mythology?”

  “Perseus killed some chick”, Michael said.

  “Actually yes, the chick was a very beautiful woman with poisonous snakes on her head, whose eyes turned to rock anybody

  who looked at her. Perseus killed the Gorgona Medusa and put

  her head in a magic sac, which becomes as big as the thing you

  put in it. Perseus sat to rest, putting the head on the sea shore, and

  the blood of the murdered Medusa soaked through the cloth and

  turned the seaweed to stone. The charming nymphs fell in love

  with their beauty and spread them along the bottoms of all seas.

  Thus, the corals appeared, according to the ancient Greeks. “A very cool story, Hans, this time your overpassed yourself.”

  It was Alan this time, who raised from his bunk and interfered. Nobody had noticed him wake up.

  “And do you know how Perseus succeeded to cut the head of

  Medusa without her looking at him? The gods gave him as a gift

  a polished magical shield in which he saw Medusa as in a mirror.

  Thus, he managed to behead her with only one hit.”

  “So… Hans?” Marcela urged him.

  “So… We’ll kill it the same way.”

  “How?”

  “We have to send it back to where it came from, to its mirror

  universe.”

  “Okay, but in what way?” Norman insisted.

  “Ask Colonel Ivanov, he knows.” Hans turned to the Russian,

  who lowered his eyes in embarrassment.

  “What else haven’t you told us, Colonel?!” Norman shouted. “I can explain, Major…” His strong voice had turned into a

  quiet mumbling.

  “Isn’t it enough for you that I closed my eyes and spared you

  the court martial?”

  “Calm down, Major, it’s not his fault, those were his instructions, isn’t that right, Colonel?” Hans approached Ivanov. “You

  know how the Core is activated, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I know” the huge Russian said, lowering his head.

  Last day, 8:58 a. m. “Yes… You are right.” Hans was lost in thoughts and was scratching his head. “It is heated, too much even. I suppose the temperature of the Cube has been constantly increasing for the last few days, but, of course the dumb headed military did not bother to follow such ‘trifling’ features.

  “Hans, I can understand your irony, however, this is not the time for analysis and reproaches, but for actions… Don’t you think?” Marcela touched his shoulder gently.

  Hans placed his hand on the Cube but quickly pulled it back. “It’s awfully hot!”

  “Don’t play around Hans, it might be dangerous!” “I’ve a bad feeling about this”, Hans said. “I think the constant

  increase of temperature in our little Cube will result in mighty fireworks.”

  “But how does it produce heat, energy, how does it work?”

  “I am not sure, but I have a theory. Do you know how a star works, how it generates energy?”

  “I guess it burns out a part of its mass, doesn’t it? The mass turns into energy, isn’t that what Einstein says?” Michael was not very knowledgeable about astrophysics.

  “Not quite”, Hans laughed. “Actually, every star, including our bright Sun, works this way. If the Sun burned out its own mass like the burning of charcoal in a stove or in the heat power stations, its fuel would have finished in about 150 000 years. Actually, it produces energy through nuclear synthesis, turning the lighter elements like hydrogen and helium into the heavier iron and cobalt.”

  “Something like in nuclear power stations?”

  “No, just the opposite. While we break down heavy elements like uranium into lighter ones to obtain energy, the stars do vice versa, synthesizing heavy elements from lighter ones. But in both processes huge quantities of energy are released, that allow our Sun to shine and heat the Sun System in the course of several billions of years. I’m sure the Cube functions the same way, if it was capable of generating the necessary quantity of energy to bend space. If we take this thing and return it to where Norman and the others took it from, it will leave us in peace.”

  “Back to the submarine?”

  “Yes, Mike, we’ll load it on the Rover and will take it there. When it explodes, it won’t be here and we will be far away in time and space.”

  The Submarine, last day, 9:16 a. m. It weighed too much. And it was awfully hot. Three people could hardly take it out of the trunk of the SUV and pull it with ropes to the corps of the submarine. Anyway, they dragged it by the hole, cut there, and dumped it inside.

  The corals there seemed to have doubled in quantity. They had as if overgrown the whole place making it seem unbelievably smaller. Four people could push with great efforts the Cube inside and their backs were all the time scratched by the sharp coral edges.

  They took off their gloves and looked it over.

  “Let Ivanov and Hans try to switch on the Core, Lieutenant, and you help them”, Norman ordered. “Michael will go finish repairing the truck and I’ll return to Marcela in the lab. Be quick, gentlemen, I don’t fancy another night in this place!”

  “Fuck you, damned nastiness!” Michael spat noisily over the Cube and followed the Major back to the Base.

  The Submarine, last day, 9:27 a. m. “Turn the key clockwise at half a revolution.” Hans turned the red button simultaneously with Ivanov, whose hand was on the blue one. “Now wait and again forward, clockwise, half a revolution… And… now…”

  Even Hans’s brilliant mind would not be able to repeat the complex sequence of pressing buttons, pulling levers, handles and inserting starting codes for the submarine.

  The lamps on the ceiling blinked a few times, then began shining with a brighter white light. Everything seemed to move around them.

  The four generators in the room boomed hollowly and the screens on the wall were lit like a spectacular video-wall at a stadium before the gathered crowd. The feeling was like standing under a buzzing power transmission line. Hans’s head was pulsing with the tension in the air and his ears were ringing from invisible oscillations. The space around him was stuffing him heavily and his flesh was as if convulsing under a press.

  “Colonel, where are the temporal chains shown?” Hans asked, breathless and all sweaty.

  Ivanov showed a red screen in the left side.

  The inscription 15.11.9861 stood on it.

  The big lens of the Eye started contracting, the mirrors, directed at the Eye, shone with dim light blue light.

  At this moment the Lieutenants tender white face appeared in the opening of the corps and his small energetic eyes started looking around the room.

  “How is it going?” he asked, glancing at the Russian with suspicion.

  “Can’t you see, Lieutenant, we’ve started the Core, didn’t you feel the tension in the air?” Hans said.

  “No, what tension?”

  “W
hat about the noise? Are you sure you didn’t hear anything from outside?”

  “Nothing at all, but here it is quite warm, actually… Obviously they have good insulation.”

  “Or rather the submarine swims in its own climatic bubble”, the plump Professor mumbled under his nose.

  “I’ll leave you to the Russian military magic, I need to see what’s going on with the rest of the group. I have a bad foreboding and those things have not been seen for quite a long time.”

  “Go, Lieutenant, we’ll be all right here.”

  “Be careful, I saw steps in the sand by the prow.”

  Babyface slipped through the narrow opening, lithe as a panther, and disappeared.

  Bio analysis hall, last day, 10:17 a. m.

  “I’m telling you, Norman, I’ve never seen such values.” “Could it be because of the heat, the Sahara climate or any other reason?”

  “No, I don’t think so, Norman.”

  “And how exactly did you know it?”

  “Look, I might be just a pretty image for you, but I dare say I know my job.”

  “Please, March, I never implied you didn’t…”

  “After I took samples of secretions from your and Michael’s wounds, I inserted a culture in nutritious mediums. I was in doubt, because the infectious changes in your wounds carried out too quickly and it was impossible that the bacteria had melted the tissues in such a short time, fermented and formed a pus secretion. And what do you know? The results were amazing! For two hours all the bacteria in the petri dishes had multiplied hundredfold.”

  “How so?” Norman raised his hands inquiringly.

  “The development of every colony of bacteria passes through three basic phases:

  - an exponential phase, in which the number grows in geometrical progression;

  - a stationary one, in which the growth stops because of exhaustion of the nutritious environment and the exotoxins, released from the bacteria. Here the number of dead and new cells is equal;

  - dead phase in which the number of perished cells is bigger than that of the newly appeared.”

  “Great. so, what?”

  “So, there is no dead phase with the aliens that I took from your wound.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that they grow and multiply regardless of the lack of food and without interfering with each other. They don’t need oxygen or carbon dioxide at all, light or any matter to exist! Usually infectious microorganisms need several days to pass through several scores of generations. And these here had divided super quickly, producing a hundred generations for no time at all!”