by Peter Riva
Octal, idiot.
Using a right brain and left brain sorting technique I had long since mastered, I rewrote an identifier preamble to my program from binary to octal, instructing the octal portion of this system to follow instructions to allow the program to run as a subset in binary, giving results in octal. In short, I told it to translate and act upon the translation as if it had all been written in octal. It took me a long time, it seemed, but I managed it. I initiated the new mirror and presto there I was, a duplicate mirror image, moving exactly mirrored to me. Okay, there was no physical likeness of Simon Bank in here. All I could see were energy aura movements that I was making with my pseudo projections of my hands. What I moved inside here, the mirror image moved corresponding pieces in the same way, but backward.
I gave the mental command to go forward and suddenly I did. I knew the mirror image went backward. Balance. Everything had to be in balance. Dr. Tully’s image of the two supergalaxies plunging toward the Great Attractor is what gave me the idea. Two huge supergalaxies perfectly mirrored the one of the other. Balance.
Inside, if I could maintain balance in all that I explored, I should be able to proceed. Slowly, Simon, slowly. Careful.
Talking to myself—always did that when under stress.
The question was, now that I’m in here, what do I want to do, or where do I want to go? No one is talking to me, so either it, they, don’t know I am here or I am not in the right place. I had no idea what question to ask, where to go to find out, or who to ask. So I did what any child does, and what I had done inside the System all those years ago.
“Hello?”
Suddenly my head hurt. The sound, no vibration, was deafening. I thought it would kill me any second. Then the volume seemed to be decreasing, lower, lower, and even lower until I could hear a rhythm and then clipped sounds, ringing, and what I can only describe as chirping. I had no way of recording any of this. I wasn’t in the lab hooked up to any recorders, no one was monitoring me in here, I was all alone with perhaps the first communications being attempted and I didn’t have the faintest idea what was being said, or if anything was being said.
And then just as quickly it was gone. I searched around me. Nothing, benign, seeming useless, code, all octal, but doing nothing. I thought to return to where I entered and there was the mirror program. I canceled it and stayed still, all alone. No sounds, nothing. I tried again, “Hello?”
Nothing. Just as I was planning to leave, giving the command to exit mentally, I heard the chirping again. It got louder and louder, building until it was unbearable. And then it was gone.
Still nothing to explain where I was or within what system for what purpose. Perhaps I needed more input interface, more wires to be attached. Whatever it was, I decided it was time to leave and report to Cramer and the crew. I gave the command to exit.
And nothing happened.
I looked around and found that octal code was beginning to assimilate part of my body, the image of my body, within this system. I could not leave because I was being assimilated. The fear level grew pretty fast. I opened the octal code surrounding my knee and examined the sequences. It seemed fluid, changing as I touched it. Octal was sixty-four times as mutate-able as binary and this little program sequence was mutating itself to absorb me. So I reprogrammed the top sequence string changing its function to descend and disgorge rather than absorb. It started to do so immediately. I turned to the other leg and repeated my alteration, but that program seemed to adapt to my change and reformatted its commands. I changed them again, it changed again. The first knee program was changing back too. I had to hurry.
The image that came into my mind was one of pulling them off and running away. But I realized that was too human and pathetic. Still, it was an idea. So instead of trying to rewrite their code to function differently, I changed the attachment portion from positive to negative. As soon as they let go, I removed them and ordered them to the part of the matrix I could see in front of me. They stayed there, bobbing, almost rotating. Searching? Once my legs were free, I gave the command to exit, and suddenly I was back inside the suit on the outside of the hull.
I reached down and broke the harness connection. “How long?” My voice was hoarse.
“Too damn long. This is crazy. You get anything?”
Aware the whole crew would be listening, I replied, “Yes, nothing to worry about, it’s just a first scouting. I’ve learned a lot and will be better prepared for the next time.”
“Not now Simon, we’re going in.”
I didn’t argue. He gave the command to Abadine to start rolling forward, and as the magnet gently rolled off the wires, I coiled them up and latched the coil to my belt. After that, I allowed Cramer to tow me back down the orange path.
The leap from the hull to the flight deck was much easier than the other way around except for one thing—we had to use the rolling-pin magnet as an anchor for the graphene rope, and once we jumped we had to reach safety before the ship spun and pulled us back, graphene all in a tangle. “You know Cramer, we really should have given this more thought.” His response was a single swear word, so I guess he agreed.
Actually, the jump was easy enough. We had just gotten over to the platform and were desperately trying to find a handhold when the graphene started to pull and wind up on the spinning hull. Cramer yelled, “Let go!” and so I did. Why I did, I’ll never know. Here I was, handhold-less, almost at safety, about five meters from that railing cleat and porthole and no way to get there. Suddenly I felt Cramer tugging my suit, and I was spun around traveling backward, it seemed, toward safety. Once he got hold of the cleat, he latched on and turned me around, waving his little gas pistol in front of my visor. Just then, the faint sun peeked around the flight deck and I could see into his helmet, the idiot was grinning, happy as could be.
21
OKAY, I GIVE—WHAT DID I FIND?
Abadine helped us undress while Aten and the three docs pestered us with questions. Before I could explain, Cramer took control, “Look, let’s get him,” gesturing at me, “to the hospital for observation. He was in there for twenty minutes. There’s bound to be speeded up synapse issues and, anyway, we can debrief him there.” He turned and looked at me, “You okay with that Simon?” I nodded.
After the usual medical checks, I was pronounced, “Seems okay …” Heartwarming.
I had a response, “Okay? I was scared, really terrified. I’m not doing that jump again, no matter what.”
Aten took my hand, “It’s okay Simon, I understand. That was more than we should have asked of you. But now, please tell us what you found.”
So I explained exactly what I saw, felt, did “in there” before I gave the command to exit. I was saving that exit command problem for later. Doc Sing felt it was exciting and a huge leap forward in neuropathology. I had my doubts and shook my head, “What I saw had no function, no purpose. There was nothing to the octal coding doing anything. There were screems of it, all over the place, haphazardly piled, one on top of the other, program bubbles, program strings not connected to anything, layered commands unattached or unpowered.” The docs looked more puzzled. “That is until it tried to eat me.”
Everyone started talking at once. I waited until one of them asked me to explain, calmly. It was Doc Todd, “Simon, would you mind sharing that with us?”
“When I gave the command to exit, return out of interface, I was prevented from departing. Unlike being cocooned and trapped, as Cramer was once within the System, I had complete knowledge of what was happening. I knew and could see the programs advancing up my legs, they got as far as my knees. They were mutating, adapting to me, consuming me. I opened one and changed advance for retreat in its programming. It did so and then adapted and started advancing again. On the other leg, changing the code instigated an instant response to countermand my command and reprogramming. In the end, I changed the attach portion of their programming, which caused them to release, just for a fraction of a second,
and I ordered the system I was in to remove them to a spot away from me. I watched them floating there, ready to exit if they came back. They didn’t, but they were changing shape—programs do not appear to change shape inside systems unless they are reprogramming. I was frightened they might have been looking for me or calculating how to get back to me. So I exited.”
Doc Todd was busy looking into my eyes, checking retina and eye pressure levels. He spoke inches away from my face, “Seems to me what you found was immunoreactivity against antibodies. You were identified as an antibody and were attacked. Standard immunoreactivity.”
Sing and Rajman nodded in agreement and broke away to have a conference. No one spoke while they were nattering away in a corner. It was Sing who raised her voice first speaking at Rajman, “Yes, yes, of course, that fits the hydra perfectly. There is no brain structure here. There is no cohesive plan, no pattern until needed. Everything sits, coded, password activated until needed. The mass of information …”
Rajman continued, “I can’t believe it, we’re getting to explore the actual function of a brain, a diffuse brain, a primitive structure. This is incredible.”
I hated to burst their bubble, but I had to remind them why we were doing this, “Hey docs, if you don’t mind, could you explain how the hell we can be inside something stupid, without purpose, when everything it does, everything the Vast Pattern exhibits, denotes supreme intelligence or at least supreme control?”
Doc Todd patted my arm, “Easy there Simon. You’re not getting the picture. Whatever the Vast Pattern is, you didn’t get to hear or listen or speak to it because you were in the storeroom. You weren’t in a functioning part of the brain. Jellyfish store proteins, closed loop enzymes, left- and right-handed amino acid blocks, and now we’ve learned they store programming, functions they may need, but not yet. In a diffuse brain, one without seeming purpose, there is no need to carry out or preload all the function capability like in mammals—they just use, activate, those needed at any one time. Look, it’s the difference between a computer you command every aspect of and one of those primitive smartphones or the sleeves we wear. All those apps are pre-loaded, like in a human brain, ready to activate. In more primitive brains, the apps are not pre-loaded. To be activated, they need to be loaded and then activated. So, if a jellyfish needs to rise into a different ocean current, nothing else matters to its existence. So it simply activates three programs and issues three commands, detect the current, activate propulsion, and change core density to rise. Anything else is, for that moment, superfluous.”
“And the immunoreactivity?”
“Ah, the bio-mechanism of the jellyfish is devoid of conscious thought except for the functions needed, but that does not mean evolution has not taught it to ensure that it will have all the tools necessary when, and if, those functions are necessary. So it leaves a protective system, an autonomous protection system, in place. That’s what you ran into.”
Cramer had the question ready that I was still working on, “And what’s the purpose of the jellyfish? What does it want to do?”
“Ah, the human question.” Doc Todd smiled. He was being patronizing now, and I half expected him to light a pipe and puff smoke rings, “Humans need purpose, they have ambitions, they set goals, flee or attack, that sort of thing. Existence unfolds, is commanded, on a momentary notice. But Jellyfish live in a steady, constant world. They have, no let’s rephrase that, they are diffuse brains, incapable of focused multi-tasking ambition, they have one end goal only: To live, to survive. And please remember they can mount a formidable attack, with blinding speed, to ensure they do survive.”
Now, I don’t want to give the impression that Cramer or I, or the doctors for that matter, were in charge here. Aten was, and what seemed to be on her mind already, in listening and making her evaluation, was something more basic, “We need to explain all this to the crew, first and foremost, and secondly, we need to find a way to talk with the Vast Pattern or this jellyfish. If we fail, it is clear that Earth and everyone on board are in grave danger. There is no question now that it does know we’re here. Immunoreactivity doesn’t happen without identification of a threat. We have to assume it sees us as a threat.”
“And there is one more thing I need to explain. I witnessed elements of the Path inside.” Aten gasped. “It was Dr. Tully’s diagrams that gave me the idea. Everything has to happen in balance. I could not move around until I created a mirror image of me. I moved forward, my mirror moved backward. It was only when I stood alone that I could do nothing, unmovable, and also when I stood alone, that’s when the immunoreactivity occurred. If I connected again, I would make sure I always had the mirror program working.”
22
A CALL FOR ACTION
We were all at a loss as to exactly what to do next if I reconnected. I say, “if” because it was not certain that anyone wanted me to and my desire was pretty minimal as well. The crew was informed of all that had transpired, the doctors pondered the diffuse brain communication parameters, and engineering got to work trying to figure out a safer way for me to go “topside” as they called it. As for the connection, it was clear that the automatic vid recording on Cramer’s helmet showed that the eight wires I had locked under the magnet were in no particular sequence. I took a little heat for that from Sing, but, heck, it was pitch dark, I couldn’t really see because of my restricted head mobility and maybe they were the right sequence. Could Sing prove otherwise? I figured any connection could be that simple again, a magnet topside and one on the orange path.
What no one had initially explained, or guessed at with any plausibility, is what the chirping and deafening sounds were. Doc Todd finally had a hypothesis that the diffuse brain, in sending out a broadcast searching for a particular function to be enacted, might overwhelm the helmet circuits and appear to me as a loud sound. “I do wish you could have recorded that …” Well, he was right. At my old job Mary, my associate, would have been able to play back the high-frequency connection I was getting at a slower speed and “see” it as I had. Here I had no recording. So, in discussing this with the team, we all agreed that a recording device was critical before I started anything again.
In our review, my mention of starting anything again was worrying the crew. Even Zip seemed to be fearful of the next stages and communicated, quite clearly, that I had better not make it mad.
I knew morale was getting bad on board when the kids stopped their little game of reminding me of their names. When I greeted any of them by name, they simply said, “Hi,” and walked on. It wasn’t that they were unfriendly, they were withdrawn, and that was a very bad sign. It was time to right the ship, so to speak. If this crew was to reach Angelica safely and harmoniously, in order to forge a new beginning, they needed to return to oneness, return to the Path.
Knowing that Aten’s office vid was now constantly playing around the ship and that people were likely paying close attention, given the stress on board, I deliberately asked her to listen to a hypothesis I had. Based on the three doctors’ imparted knowledge and my previous experience, somehow I knew what I had to do. Everyone on board was trying to think of what could be done, how they could add to the thinking and evaluation. In short, they were thinking about them. I knew the answer was me.
Aten moved from behind her desk, no doubt to soften the authoritarian image of me speaking to her seated and sat next to me on the couch. I knew the tracking vid followed. She asked me how I was feeling—if there were any side effects, any speeded-up synapses as there surely would have been if I had gone in System for twenty minutes. I told her honestly, there were none and that was one of the reasons I had come in to see her.
“Aten, I should be comatose or, worse, so speeded up my teeth would shatter as I chew or speak. They are not.” I held out my hand, palm down. “I don’t have the slightest tremor, nothing. I am fine. And yet I should not be.”
We were both aware of the vid and the reach of the broadcast. Aten asked, “And do you h
ave any idea why? Have the doctors come up with a reason?”
Time to make the first shift in our relationship, “Aten, stop. You know why. Your memory is not that blank, you remember being Ra, the environment you operated in and the deleterious effect going in System had for me and, before me, Angie.”
“Yes, I do, but that does not mean …”
“Yes, Aten it does. In System caused a speeded up synapse syndrome precisely because yours was a binary system and our brain, my brain, is a binary system. Positive and negative, on and off, DC current. I know you, I am sure you’ve figured out that a binary brain within an octal system is not influenced that way. Remember back when? Remember how amazed you were when I could swap zeros and ones? The infinitesimal you called it, you could not fathom that, remember?”
“Yes I do Simon.” She was looking sheepish now. I had guessed correctly, she had already worked this out.
“And I know what you are planning.” That shocked her. “Yes, Aten, I know you. You are on the Path, you would sacrifice anything for this crew and now especially for Cramer. You are thinking, and I’ll bet planning, to undertake the interface yourself.” She started to object. “Stow it Aten, I know you. Part of you wants to show others you would be as human as they are, as Cramer is. And part of you wants to belong to that infinite world of possibilities again.”
She was crushed. “You make it sound so selfish. The risk should be mine, not yours, I have had a hundred years, your life is just beginning.”
I grabbed her hand, “Aten, listen, this crew needs you, they need you and Cramer more than they will ever need me for planet fall. I believe you are on the Path, a Path I try to attain to but fail much more often than any of the crew.”
She smiled and said, “That’s true …”
“Okay, but that doesn’t matter …” I shook my head, “No, what matters is this: I am more devious than you. I am more selfish than you. Plus I have more experience in observing inside systems than you. You were a system, you have no objectivity. I do, and I have a reason for wanting to do this.” I paused for the vid effect I was looking for, “I was brought back to life by Apollo and Ra for one purpose and one purpose only—to forge a bridge of safe passage for this vessel and the crew. I have no other purpose. Not now, not tomorrow, never again.”