“You are you and I am I?” repeated Mei. “What kind of gibberish is that?”
“He is unfamiliar with human language, and doing all he can to communicate with us. It's not gibberish. It sounds like he wants to be extracted and has some plan as to how we should go about it, right System?”
“Yes, Captain. These are the diagrams and instructions he encoded into the message.” The displays filled with sophisticated diagrams of the ship's spoke hubs, the sphere, and another diagram of all five ion drills attached to a rotating array. “His worded message is confusing, but his machine instructions are flawless and highly specific. He lays out a plan to interlock the spoke stub flush to the sphere that should allow us to pressurize the spoke with no chance of leakage. Next, he recommends assembling the drill heads in a circular array, as pictured, and using it to cut out a two meter diameter hole at a specified point on the sphere, from which you are to extract him and bring him aboard.”
“And what do you think of this plan, System? Is it how you would go about this extraction?”
“Aye Captain. These plans are better engineered than anything I could generate. If you decide to extract the entity from the sphere, I recommend following this strategy to the letter.”
“So you do believe this is a higher level machine intelligence than yourself?”
“Without a doubt, Captain.”
“Why then can he barely phrase a coherent sentence in human language?”
“Unknown, Captain. I would suspect that we are dealing with a machine intelligence that is somehow unfamiliar with human language. The diagrams were communicated to me in encrypted hexadecimal binary machine code flawlessly.”
“But that's a very low level machine language, isn't it?” Aru commented. “It's only one step up from binary. Has he exhibited any communication at all in a higher level machine language?”
“Beyond his use of UHL, no Captain. The entity carried out the cyberattack in pure binary number sequences that do not backwards compile into any known machine language.”
Everything about this was extremely curious. On the one hand they were dealing with a machine intelligence that was by System's own admission far more advanced that itself, an AI-8. On the other, they were dealing with a helpless human who barely knew how to speak. One thing for sure, if this entity was already in control of System, it was putting on a hell of show to becloud that fact. It could just as easily kill or imprison him and Mei, extract itself from the sphere, and do, well, whatever it wanted with the ship. And surely with such control, it would not risk exposing itself to them at all! Aru was ever more convinced they were still in control of the ship, and what they had to do was find a way to perform this extraction that ensured System came into no contact with the entity.
“May I make a suggestion, Captain?” voiced System.
“Yes, go ahead.”
“The first phase of the plan is to use the drills in their existing positions to bore into the surface coating of the sphere at all five contact points with the spoke hubs in order to fashion a joining structure between them, and lock everything permanently and airtight into place. This could all be accomplished without ever coming into signal contact with the entity. It would be well worth doing just from the perspective of solidifying ship structural integrity.”
And give them time to plan out phase two. “Commander?” he asked.
“Makes sense to me, Captain.” said Mei.
“Ok, System. You are duly authorized to proceed with phase one.”
“Aye, Captain.”
Aru sat down and Mei followed suit. She picked up her vaporizer, closed her eyes and inhaled slowly.
“Would you stop doing that please?” he asked in annoyance.
“It's fine, dear, nothing too potent. Just a little something to keep my mind focused.”
Yeah, and that's always how it starts. Then a week or two of slippery slopes later she would be off the rails sewing chaos. At least his drinking was managed and scheduled with clockwork consistency of eight day cycles, always the same, week after week and year after year. She, on the other hand, was prone to losing self-control for drawn out periods. He damn well didn't need that, especially now. He half-considered grabbing her vaporizer and chucking it into the waste disposal.
“Yeah, don't even think about it, Captain Brandywine,” Mei warned him with a martial hand gesture, reading his mind. She took another hit then veered the discourse away from her personal issues and back to more immediate matters. “I think there's a way we can perform the extraction without exposing Kinny.”
“All right?”
“The drill array will need to be connected to the accelerated ion beam, but that's a one way stream, yeah?”
“Yes.”
“So we do like before. We establish a muting wall and bring the drill array through it, pre-programmed to the task and with no connections back to Kinny.”
“It's still run by modern digital circuitry, so when all is done, the drill array has to be considered potentially corrupted.”
“Yeah, well, that's what I'm thinking. Have Kinny program the drill array to enter the sphere and seal itself in after we've extracted the target. We isolate the target in an analog isolation pod and transport him back to the zero-com chamber, where he stays locked up as our prisoner for the remainder of the voyage.”
Aru thought about it. “System, is the Commander's plan viable?”
“Affirmative, Captain. I would concur that is the optimal method by which to extract the entity from the sphere and transport it the zero-com chamber which most effectively minimizes my risk of exposure to it.”
“Ok Commander, we do it that way. Good thinking.”
“Oh don't praise me. Thank the vaporizer.”
Aru refused to take the bait. They got a meal in while System affixed the spoke hubs to the Sphere. Once finished, they watched on holograph as the web of tethers released and retracted back into the ship's hull. There was the familiar wheel shape of his beautiful ship and a large shining ball of gold affixed at its hub.
“Now that looks downright proper,” said Mei. Aru agreed. It was like that sphere just belonged there. And really it did. They now had triple their previous shield force and thus a huge advantage over every other craft out there.
They suited up once again and stuffed all the analog gear into an isolation pod, which they upgraded with a mini-thruster array. The rest of the equipment they moved to the hallway and had system take it to storage leaving the zero-com room bare except for basic furnishings. Mei insisted on cleaning the dusty room -by hand. This was something Aru had virtually no experience with, and she had a good laugh when she handed Aru a strange pole tool with soft soggy bits at the end of it and he asked what it was. “It's called a mop, you over-privileged twit!” she exclaimed, and continued to mock him over it between uncontrolled fits of laughter. What could he say? He had never used one before.
Once the chores were speedily concluded, they took the ring tram once more to the Spoke 4 portcullis. It and the lock chamber beyond were already wide open, as the entire spoke passage now had atmosphere. It looked different now, the way the wall lighting dispersed in the air. The new rotating five-headed hydra of a drill array had been assembled, programed, and sent to the sphere-end of the passage, ready to initiate its assigned tasks upon his order.
They thrust up to the work platform and reestablished the muting wall. Again Mei triple checked its integrity. With everything in order, they put on their helmets to protect themselves from the smoke and dust that would soon cloud the air, and ordered to drill array to begin its work.
The whole thing was incredibly loud, and sparks flew in every direction until a clean circle of the surface layer had been completely cut through. Then the operation went silent, sucking out thick billows of dust as the drill array finished boring its way through the softer interior layers.
“Operation complete, Captain,” reported the drill array.
“Remove the cutting.”
“Aye Captain,” confirmed the drill array.
They could hear the stony layer grating against itself along the hairline cut as the drill array slowly backed its way down the spoke. They waited for the dust cloud to clear. By the time it did, the drill array had already reversed its position to the opposite inner side of the cutting, ready to entomb itself into the sphere. Looking up, they saw the inside of the sphere was mostly dark with dimly glowing red and blue veins of unknown function visible against the interior walls. They thrust themselves up and over the threshold into the interior. Mei shined a spotlight up the center, and there they saw him: An angelic image, hovering above them with arms outstretched, white robe and long light flowing hair, bathed in the brightness of the searchlight. He stared vacantly back down upon them and sang.
Peeking Behind the Curtain
The elders of The Order held conference each spring in Tulan and was attended only by those of their highest echelons. Every year Gahre always held some faint hope his father would come, but he never did. The conference was held in a lodge outside the village, down a trodden path beside a stream in the oak grove. They met at night, and the fact that they met was no secret. What they discussed, however, were secrets of the highest order. They spoke to each other in a language no one understood. There was not even a name for it other than the “elder’s language.” But Gahre wondered if it was not the language of the Forbidden Land of Arath he had recently learned of. He knew better than to speak of his discovery. In fact, no one must know.
A couple years earlier, he had committed a wrongful action. He had pried open a window and entered the Elders’ meeting lodge when it was deserted. He’d gotten away with it too, though had been disappointed in his findings. The interior of the lodge was quite bare and modest. There was a long oak table, surrounded by 12 sturdy chairs. There were lanterns and candles. There was a sink and an assortment of mugs hung on hooks on the wall behind it. On the counter sat a tea set. There was but a single bottle of wine stored in the basement. There was a toilet. There was a back room with cots and blankets. What there was not, was not a single book or single scrap of paper; not a single foreign looking object. Not a single clue that would lead him to Forbidden Knowledge.
Now, he intended to commit another wrongful action at the lodge. But this time, he was determined it would at least prove productive. Having retained a vivid memory of the interior, he formulated a plan to hide among the rafters above the conference table and listen in on their meeting. The central beam was made of solid oak and was over a meter wide. He would lie at its center quietly. True, he would not understand their language, but perhaps, if he concentrated, he could pick something up. The elders seldom spoke their graceful and rhythmic tongue in public. Seldom. People had heard bits and pieces over the years. So he knew the words for “yes” and “no”, and “hail”/”farewell”. He knew the word “Arath”. And it was hinted in shadows that they did occasionally drop in an Occitanian word when they spoke, since it was, after all, their mother tongue.
Gahre arose well before dawn and slipped out of uncle’s house as silently as he had slipped in the night before. He did not head into the quiet streets of town, but directly into the forest. He would have to circle town, and leave no trace of his passing. The elders did come in and out of the lodge throughout the day, and a few of the visiting members were sleeping there even now. Gahre would summon all his patience and wait for the right opportunity to enter. He did not eat or drink that morning, for he knew he must not urinate or sweat, he must not sneeze or fart or clear his throat or rustle around. He would practice perfect stillness like the radiant ascetic he had encountered 5 days prior.
He approached the lodge most stealthily, and scoped out a vantage point where he could best conceal himself. He settled in a cropping of tall stones and underbrush some forty meters from the building and watched through a patch of thorny thicket. The building was dark at first, but within twenty minutes a candlelight glow emerged from the window, and the smell of woodsmoke began to fill the air. He caught a glimpse through the window of Counselor Botha sipping his tea and gazing out toward the wood in Gahre’s direction. His heart jumped, because, for a moment, it seemed to Gahre like Botha was staring directly at him, that he saw him! But Gahre calmed his mind, knowing full well from his hunting experience that that was impossible -so long as he did not stir.
An hour later a robed man Gahre did not recognize came outside to perform exercises, and Botha popped out for a short time to gather firewood. And Gahre was pretty sure there were at least two other men in the building. He hoped they would leave after breakfast. But weary travelers that they were, they decided to spend the early afternoon there. By then, there was ample solarshine to warm Gahre’s chilled bones a bit. He was getting restless, but continued to remind his heart to remain still and alert. The thought of a nap entered his mind more than once, but he pushed it aside. This day was too important!
He was dismayed to view the arrival of the two local elders, but their visit was brief. And then the moment came, when all six men headed off toward the village for a proper meal. A proper meal! No. He couldn’t think about that now. His cautious moccasined feet tread lightly toward the building. The window he had entered last time was quite thoroughly locked. He didn’t remember it even having a lock. Perhaps they had detected his previous intrusion. That made him even more uneasy. Some part of his mind suggested turning back before it was too late, but it went unheeded. It should have known that it was not in Gahre’s nature to turn back.
How to get in? He checked the other windows without success. There was a vent near the apex of the roof but no conceivable way of climbing to it. There was the chimney, but that route would cover him and the floor in soot. The Elders were perceptive, and would certainly know something was amiss when they saw it. He examined the door and pulled the handle. To his surprise, it opened.
He entered the lodge and knew right away it was devoid of folk, for Gahre could sense beings. Then it occurred to him to lock the door. The door had been unlocked, but it was supposed to be locked. So would it be more suspicious to lock the door or not? They had forgotten to do it which meant that they would expect to find a locked door when they returned. But what if the Elder Panthus, who had closed the door, walked away with some vague sense of error? What if he remembered suddenly and then came back to find the door locked? No, he decided. People do not recall such mistakes, and when they do, they tend not to admit them. He locked the door. Then he smiled. Elders make foolish errors too!
It was then that the half-eaten biscuit on the floor caught his eye and held it for some time. Why would a biscuit be on the floor? These are refined people; they don’t throw food on the floor. Someone must have dropped it then, and it had rolled there into the corner. No. He must not eat it. No foolish errors for Gahre today! But… but what if the hunger caused his belly to growl, as it sometimes did? Why did he not bring food?! Why was he wasting time when he knew he should conceal himself right away? If no one knew there was a biscuit on the floor, how could anyone possibly miss it? In a swift, erratic action, he snatched the biscuit off the floor and stuffed it into his mouth.
Still chewing, he approached the conference table and looked up at the beam. It was higher than he had remembered. There was no way up along the walls, so he stood upon the conference table and leapt. It took a couple of tries to latch his fingers over the upper edge of the beam. Now came the hard the part, pulling himself up. Gahre was a large boy, a full 90 kg, but he was mightily strong. He was able to get his chin over, but the torso was not so easy. With a great heaving and enormous strain upon his fingertips, he managed to pull his chest over and quickly grasped one hand then another on the far edge of the beam. From there, it was not so hard to get his legs up and over. Dust had flown all around, and a clump had fallen to the table below. There was nothing that could be done about that now. He certainly was not inclined at this point to climb back down and repeat the process.
He lay as flatly and comfortably as he could, belly down across the surface of the beam, arms outstretched before him. If any part of him were raised too high, it would become viewable from below. He would not be able to see anything, except the wooden plane before him. This job relied on the ears, and his hearing was as excellent as all his senses. And it was another of his senses, smell, that started irritating him once he became settled and the waiting began.
He sensed something in the building, an animal to be sure. He raised his head and took a few hearty snorts of the air. Then he realized the source of the odor was right below his nose: some kind of rodent scent trail. A woodrat! That made sense. If he were a rat, he would move in here too. There couldn’t be many, or the smell would have been stronger. He hoped it was just one, and that it remained in hiding.
Many hours he lay there and felt too uneasy to have a proper daydream. In time, a faint shuffling sound snapped him out the trance-like state he had fallen into. It came from somewhere amongst the rafters. “Rat! Wherever you are, I warn you. Do not disturb me!” he hissed into the darkness.
There was no sound after that, and more hours of waiting followed. He tried to keep his mind active so as not to nod off, and his thoughts kept returning to the ascetic –and to Arath. Forbidden Knowledge. Just to know of its existence begged so many questions, with the most poignant being not “What is it?” but rather “Why is it forbidden in the first place?” If something is true, should not the people be allowed to know it? Why must those in The Order learn it and forever separate themselves from regular society? Why does it change them so deeply? What benefit can there possibly be in ignorance?
DUALITY: The World of Lies Page 16