The Reality Thief (Deplosion Book 1)

by Paul Anlee

  Maybe I've been compromised and my thoughts are no longer my own. Maybe I’m free to think whatever I want so long as I don’t want to report the rebellion. How could she rely on her beliefs and actions knowing that Darya had released a mind-altering virus on her colleagues? If she followed this line of reasoning to its logical conclusion, her grip on sanity would become even more tenuous that it already was.

  What if this whole rebellion is just one psychopath against another? What will Darya do if I tell the others what she's done to them? Mary could feel her heart racing as she entertained the downward spiral of doubt and despair. Knowing that it was only a virtual heart did not soothe her outworld mind.

  Hold on, woman, get a grip—Mary laughed out loud—if she had infected me, wouldn’t it be logical to assume that I’d be unable to entertain such doubts and thoughts as these? Isn't this proof enough that my mind hasn't been tampered with? Instantly, she felt calmer. Though it was still possible that her mind wasn't entirely her own, it seemed largely untouched.

  She regarded Darya coolly. “I can’t agree with what you’ve done. Actually, I'm livid. And scared. And disappointed. But for now, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt.” Darya's tight posture relaxed.

  “Darya, if you want my advice, you’ll need to let me in. I need to know what you know, what you’re not telling us.”

  Darya considered her request. “Okay. I can transmit everything, my knowledge, my history, all of it—but you won’t be able to handle it as you are.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Your standard Cybrid hardware and software need some upgrades to process it. I can install a copy of my quark-spin lattice in your brain, if you’re willing, but we'll need to go to Secondus to do that.”

  The mention of going to one of Darya’s secret labs caught Mary by surprise. She knew the labs existed and even that there had been three. But Darya was so concerned about security, that none of the acolytes had ever been invited to visit. Darya was now prepared to give Mary the coordinates to her most important base at tremendous personal risk. Mary felt humbled, and ashamed to have doubted Darya. “If that’s the only way.”

  “It is the only way,” answered Darya. “Here are the coordinates. I’ll meet you there in fifteen hours.”

  “Okay, fifteen hours.” Mary’s avatar winked out of Vacationland, leaving Darya sitting alone at the table in the clouds.

  The leader of the Cybrid rebellion looked at the distant waves and sighed heavily. I hope I’m doing the right thing in trusting her. It would have been so much easier to expose Mary to the belief virus, but I would have lost a valuable friend and advisor. The added risk is worrisome but we’ll be stronger with two distinct minds thinking about this instead of one, especially if one of those minds is Mary’s.

  Darya took one last look around, content with her decision for the moment, and disappeared from Vacationland.

  31

  A TRANSLUCENT SPHERE MATERIALIZED in the deep vacuum of space, a kilometer away from an asteroid in the Gargus 718 solar system.

  At first, the sphere contained nothing more than some oxygen-rich atmosphere and a small bit of ground defining a relative “top” and “bottom.” The side of the sphere facing into the harsh rays of the system’s G0-class star darkened to filter the light streaming onto the little clump of cacti. Soon the illumination matched what the tough plants would have received back on the planet they had just come from, several light minutes farther from the star.

  The enclosed atmosphere quivered and stabilized. Darak and Brother Stralasi appeared inside, looking out at the asteroid. The monk’s hands shot out to either side, while he struggled to adjust to the sudden and disorienting change in view.

  A second earlier, they had been in orbit around the system's colony planet, staring down on the ravaged battlefield many klicks below. Now they stood on a small uprooted piece of that planet, having escaped with nothing but what was in the bubble. They gazed into the inky black space surrounding the enormous, pitted and cratered rock floating directly in front of them. Once Stralasi realized he was not in immediate danger of drifting off the little chunk of ground on which his feet somehow, miraculously, rested, he glared at Darak.

  “Could you please warn me before you do that again?” he snapped.

  Darak grinned at Stralasi with unabashed amusement. “My apologies; I forget you’re not accustomed to this type of travel. I will attempt to provide more warning of an impending shift in future, provided you attempt a little more courtesy in your demeanor.”

  Stralasi bowed his head and apologized, “I do beg your pardon, my Lord.” Wait a second; what am I doing? Darak is no Shard of Alum. Indeed, he may very well be some kind of unknown but powerful demon. He re-phrased, “I mean, uhm…Darak.” Stralasi looked away from the other man, closed his eyes and took a deep, cleansing breath, remembering the centering exercises from his Initiate meditation classes.

  After a few seconds, he opened his eyes and focused on the mountainous piece of rock hovering in space before the two of them. “Could you please tell me where we are?” He pointed at the asteroid, “And what that is?”

  Darak smiled, “That is the basis for your civilization’s comfort and success. It is a hollowed-out asteroid some fifty million klicks or so from your colony city. You do know what an asteroid is?”

  Stralasi glowered, “Yes, I am a well-educated man, Darak. I do know about asteroids, although they occupy very little instructional time at the Alumita Seminary on Home World. They are of no relevance to Alum’s People.”

  “I could tell you exactly how they are of considerable relevance to Alum’s people,” offered Darak, “but I think it will be more memorable if I were to show you.”

  Their capsule rushed toward the asteroid. Stralasi ducked and threw his hands out in an attempt to shield himself. Though he knew the bubble had to be moving toward the planetoid, he could feel no acceleration. Rather, his senses told him, the gigantic rock was moving toward them, intent on dashing their tiny bubble to bits. It slowed as they approached the rock and Stralasi again realized his foolish instinctual reactions. He lowered his arms, brushed off his garments, and tried to calm himself as he surveyed the nearby surface.

  “Nice recovery,” Darak commended his companion. “You are beginning to think about your automatic reactions and to allow your reasoning mind to dominate your simple-minded fear. I assure you there is nothing here to harm you.”

  “No Angels, then?” retorted Stralasi.

  Darak grimaced. “Fair enough. Sending an Angel to intercept was a stronger reaction to my visit than I’d expected; I’ll give you that. But, no, this outpost has no active Angels and none will be sent while we are here.”

  About ten meters from the surface, the sphere slowed to a gentle drifting roughly halfway from each end of the meteor. Stralasi could make out a few fist-sized stones on the sloped surface of the crater into which they were descending. Mesmerized, he failed to notice the large door irising open beneath them until their capsule plunged into the dark interior of the asteroid.

  The portal winked closed behind them and a series of dim green lights invited them to continue along the featureless passageway stretching ahead. They glided forward smoothly. After a couple of minutes, another door whooshed aside and the corridor opened onto an enormous chamber. The size of the space was impossible for Stralasi to determine; it was crisscrossed with pillars of rock that obscured the views at the extremities. The area was filled with workbenches, equipment, and machinery of unidentifiable purpose. At each bench floated a metallic sphere.

  “Securitors!” hissed Stralasi, and he spun around as if to bolt back down the corridor. He felt Darak’s hand on his shoulder, turning him back to face the hollowed-out interior of the asteroid.

  “Don’t worry,” Darak said softly. “They perceive us as one of their own. Besides, these Cybrids are Servitors, Constructors and Maintainers for the most part, the harmless cousins of the more aggressive Securitor.”
r />   “What are they doing here?” whispered Stralasi.

  “Who do you think manufactures your vehicles, appliances, communications, and entertainment devices?” Darak asked, sweeping his hand in answer to his own question.

  Stralasi addressed the heretic respectfully but sternly, “Sir, all things come from Alum.”

  Darak threw back his head and laughed, “Ha! Yes, of course, they do. But these are the beings that do all the actual work. Meanwhile, He—like every absolute ruler before Him—sits back and takes all the credit.” Darak shook his head in wonder. “Over a hundred million years of civilization, and it still boils down to this. Unbelievable.”

  “Wait, are you telling me that all the goods for our entire civilization are made here?” Stralasi asked, looking around the relatively modest workshop. “That’s impossible.”

  “Obviously, they’re not made here for the entirety of human space. But, yes, each colonized system has its own similar factory, occupied by industrious Cybrids just like these.”

  “That’s preposterous,” objected Stralasi. “We would have been told of their presence, and of their service to Alum and to all of humanity.”

  “But you have been told. Are there not legends of the Cybrids of the Da’arkness and their evil industries? Of how they became overly ambitious and were disciplined by Alum?”

  “Yes, everyone knows that Cybrids, with the exception of the Securitor class, are the enemies of Alum.”

  “Yet, here you see them providing manufacturing and repair services for your own Founding colony. How do you explain that?”

  Darak propelled their protective bubble towards an idle Cybrid at a nearby bench. Stralasi fidgeted like a child, discomfited from being so close to the entity. As they drew alongside the Cybrid, the monk slid behind Darak and peered out from behind the man’s shoulder.

  A light blinked on the console of a device at one end of the workbench. It was a standard FixAll, identical to any one of the dozens of such devices in the Foundation ceraffice in Alumston, and commonly found throughout Alum’s Realm.

  The door to the FixAll opened, revealing a standard communications device inside. The Cybrid extended a pair of metallic tentacles from its smooth surface, removed the device, and placed it on the bench. Dozens more tentacles of various sizes extended from the Cybrid and set to work, faster than Stralasi’s eyes could follow.

  Within seconds, it had disassembled the comm device and laid out its components for inspection. Stralasi had not been aware there was any structure to the inside of the devices, or even that they could be opened up and inspected.

  The Cybrid studied the device for a moment, purposefully moving its appendages across the components, briefly touching precise locations and then shifting to a new position.

  “The repair Cybrid is conducting a variety of electronic diagnostic tests on various components,” explained Darak. “The devices for measuring changes in voltage and current are built into its appendages, and the output is directed to its electronic brain for analysis. It’s a boring job for such advanced minds like the Cybrids, but I suppose they find some level of satisfaction in being useful.”

  The Cybrid identified the defective component. It disposed of a small rectangular part in the bin off to one side and retrieved a replacement that appeared on a pad at the far-right of the bench. The tentacles whirred in a flurry of activity, fitting the new piece into place, running mid-assembly diagnostics, and sealing the cover. Satisfied with the results, it replaced the comm device inside the FixAll, closed the door, and patted twice above the indicator light blinking happily away on the console.

  “These repair machines are connected through system-wide starsteps to receptacles in your Foundation building, as you have no doubt surmised by now. While prayers were being said on the planet surface to invoke Alum to repair or replace the damaged device placed inside the receptacle, the device was moved here.

  “The Cybrids are quite skilled at diagnostics and repair; most problems can be resolved within minutes. If an excessive amount of time is needed, a new device is simply procured from storage. It appears on that small pad, a mini starstep, the same way as the replacement part appeared. Within minutes, the repaired or new device is sent to the planet.”

  Stralasi made no comment. He simply gaped in astonishment at the scene before him as he tried to process what Darak was telling him.

  “You say these are starsteps but I see no one praying.”

  “Things do not work quite as you’ve been led to believe,” Darak answered. “Look around you. That should be obvious.”

  The monk stared at Darak, challenging without comprehending.

  Darak would not be deterred. “Don’t worry too much about the details; it’ll all fall into place as we go along. Shall I continue, then? As you will see, everything that is not grown directly on the planet, as on all the planets throughout Alum’s Realm, is manufactured by Constructors in an asteroid similar to this one. Because Cybrids have nearly infinite patience and very little ambition, and because humans are content to have most of the real work done for them, the system is practically a perfectly designed economy.

  “It’s even better, because the primary consumer in this economy, that’s you and the rest of Alum’s People, believe that there is a single deity providing for all of your needs. In return for that, Alum receives your obedience and allegiance to His Realm.

  “The system's so beautiful, so elegant, that it has endured for tens of millions of years. Until very recently, even I couldn’t find a good reason to oppose it.”

  Finally, Stralasi found his voice. “But if the Cybrids are creations of the Da’arkness, why would they do Alum’s work and help the People to fulfill His plans?”

  Darak regarded Stralasi dubiously. “Apart from reading it in your various holy books, what evidence do you have that this Da’arkness actually exists?”

  “Because in all of space, The People can inhabit only the planets where Alum’s Light may shine upon them. The rest of space is cursed forever to be in the Da’arkness. It repels Alum’s Light.”

  “And yet the surface of this asteroid was equally illuminated by the same local sun that shines upon Gargus 718.5, was it not?”

  “True, but the light was harsh and unfriendly.”

  “That’s because the asteroid has no atmosphere to soften the sun’s rays. Nevertheless, it was illuminated. And, despite anything you may have been told, you saw the Cybrids repairing devices that are used by the People on the surface of the planet.”

  “Yes, I did,” came the reluctant reply.

  “The Cybrids are not your enemy, and they never were. They are trapped inside this beautiful system of religious economics, the same as you.”

  “What is this ‘religious economics’ you speak of?”

  “Economics is just the way that goods and services are produced and traded. Any traditional economist from the early days of humans on Origin would call this system simple, yet elegant. There are no currencies, no banks, only moderate trade between planets, and so on. But it is clearly a method of distributing resources, including labor, so that makes it an economic system.

  “Couple that with a god from whom all things flow and to whom all activity is devoted, and you have the most stable economic system ever invented: a religious economic system that stands on five pillars.

  “The first pillar is all around us: Cybrid labor. The Cybrids perform all the most important work throughout the Realm. They explore. They mine. They construct. They maintain. They innovate.”

  “The People of the Realm work hard,” Stralasi protested.

  “Certainly,” Darak agreed. “But everything they do, all the resources and technology they use, comes to them through the work of Cybrids. Everything flows from Cybrids not from Alum.”

  “Perhaps not directly, but certainly through His Love and through the power of this ‘economics’ system you talk about.”

  Darak sneered, “I’d say, not so much through his love
as through his monopoly on energy and transportation. That part is pure classical economics.”

  “What is a monopoly?” asked an irritated Stralasi.

  “It is when one person or business controls access to something for an entire society. In this case, Alum controls the supply of endless energy and the transportation between star systems. It’s what ultimately allows him to completely control all goods and services. His monopoly on energy and transportation is the second pillar. And his monopoly has the best protection ever. Only a god can provide what Alum provides. And there’s only one of those. Or so you’ve been taught.”

  “I am completely confused. You claim that Alum controls everything but, in reality, He forces none of us to love Him. We choose to receive His Glory and His Grace. In return, He has given us His Love and His Purpose. Even if what you say about the Cybrids is true, clearly they have also chosen to give Him their devotion.”

  Darak grimaced. “It’s not much of a choice when the alternative is a slow death in the dark, isolated from the rest of civilization. Still, over the tens of millions of years that humanity has been spreading out into the universe, there have been a few instances of Cybrid-led rebellions. Some colonies believed they could survive happily in isolation. But Alum’s Angels destroyed almost every system that ever rebelled against his so-called love.”

  “Machines—mindless automation—can’t rebel,” Stralasi practically spat the word. “How could they rebel against anything without the leadership of their master, Da’ar?”

  “They are no more mindless than you,” replied Darak, “and they are similarly no less enslaved. Just as you, they are slaves to Alum, not Da’ar.” He waved his hand dismissively. “But that will all become clear over our journey. To start, let’s finish touring the rest of this facility.”