The Facilitator

by Sahara Kelly

  What she didn’t know was how many of them were merely signals being sent to a certain brain cell and how many of them were actually happening. And the brain cell specific to headaches was still active because that line of thought was apparently giving her one.

  She turned her mind away from the complexities of the universe, which she would never fully understand, and toward more mundane matters. Like ensuring the eventual destruction of Director William Williams II.

  John led her to the end of a corridor and stopped in front of a door bearing the Theta symbol. He took her hand in his. “When we pass through this door, our corporeal bodies will disappear and we will become, in essence, clouds of energy. We will still be us, because that’s what we are, fundamentally. We are all collections of unique energies.”

  “Okay.” She nodded. It made sense…so far.

  “In this energy form, we can travel anywhere there’s a digital network. Go anywhere, see anything or anyone, absorb any data we choose to absorb and, of course, manipulate any data we choose to manipulate.”

  “Sort of like a…a…free-thinking data signal?”

  John considered that. “Um, yeah. I guess so.”

  “You know, I’m surprised that Theta isn’t filled with physicists and cosmologists.”

  “They don’t know how to party like we do.” John grinned. “Ready?”

  “Wait.” She reached out and touched his arm. “Where are we going? What are we going to do? Shouldn’t we have a plan or something? Can we communicate as energy clouds or whatever?”

  “Don’t worry.” He took her hand in his and linked their fingers. “You’ll see.”

  He opened the door and led her through.

  Colors.

  Once again Martine fell into a whirlpool of colors, but this time they were familiar, comforting and as reassuring as a warm bath. She immediately re-discovered her ability to think her way around, even though she maintained her connection with John. They had no hands to link anymore, but molecules of their energies clung lovingly.

  The only sounds she could distinguish were soft hums, interspersed with a gentle whirr and something which could have been a song sung by wheels on a metal track.

  They moved onward, John seeming to know where he was going.

  And he did. Within moments they had paused, and Martine realized she was looking out from inside Director William’s data screen. Once again there was brief disorientation, then she simply stared at the man himself as he moved around his office attending to details.

  He was older than she’d imagined, more wrinkled. He must filter his image thoroughly before leaving messages. His environment was luxurious in the extreme, and even as that thought came to her she sensed information around her pertaining to his finances.

  It was close to sickening. So much money, and large chunks of it coming from Shanxi. He was in their pocket, no doubt about it.

  She felt John next to her, knew he was seeing and sensing all that she saw and felt. Then he moved and she found her attention being directed out of the monitor and into the director.

  She followed the indication, realizing that her energies weren’t bound inside the equipment.

  There was a momentary check and then they were in something warm and red, pulsing around them, ebbing and flowing.

  With a tiny bolt of shock, Martine realized they were inside the director’s body and that John knew exactly where he was going.

  The director’s heart.

  Colors she recognized greeted her. “His heart. It’s a digital replicant.”

  “Yes. Prototype.” John had heard her. “Look here.”

  She followed him to the largest chamber and saw the beginnings of digital decay. “It’s beginning to collapse.”

  “And that’s exactly what we need.” John moved to the spot on the wall of the cavity and touched it. “He’s doomed. Not by us, but by his own technology.” Dark spots began to spread.

  Martine watched and then let John lead her away, out of Williams and back into the digital cortex of Eternal Tranquility. “Is that all we’re going to do?”

  “It is sufficient. Watch.”

  Martine did just that and, from their ideal viewing location, they saw Williams stagger and go pale.

  “Director Williams. This is an alert from the Shanxi Cardiac System. Your cardiac-replication unit, number one-four-three-dash-zero, is reporting functional errors. Please contact the nearest Shanxi Medical Facility at the earliest possible moment. This is not a test. I repeat. This is not a test. Please report to…”

  The man stumbled to his desk and slapped his hand down on a button, silencing the alarm. Then he hit another one. “Wendy. Ready my plane immediately and contact the Hong Kong Shanxi Medical Center. Tell them to have a room ready for me. I will be arriving within…” he glanced at his massive grandfather clock, “…within three hours or so. And forward the Cardiac Replicant error message, will you?”

  There was a brief pause. “I have done as your requested, Director. I have a response from the Medical Facility.”

  “And?”

  “Would you like me to read it, sir?”

  “Of course I would, you fucking pixel-brained imbecile.” Williams was sweating.

  “Very good, sir. Dr. Heng, Chief Cardiac Specialist, has sent the following response. Attention Director Williams. It is our utmost sadness to notify you that your digital Cardiac Replicant, number one-four-three-dash-zero, is reporting errors that are terminal in nature. We are unable to effect a repair and do not, at this time, have a suitable unit for replacement.”

  Martine watched as Williams sagged deeply into his chair and lifted his hand to his throat as if unable to catch his breath. The message continued.

  “Our estimate is that in seventy-two hours, margin of error plus or minus forty-five minutes, your unit will cease to function. We apologize for being unable to assist in this matter. We do have many other fine products you might be interested in and would be pleased to forward our latest digital catalog for your perusal. Our highly trained personnel are ready to assist you. We are always at your service. Have a nice day.”

  John drew her away. “We’re done here. Come on.”

  They drifted through the colors and the streams of digitized pulses, the hums and vibrations and the other indescribable things that comprised their strange realm. It was almost languorous now, and Martine had time to absorb the technological beauty surrounding her.

  It was, in all probability, a precisely and infinitely perfect world, an assemblage of data flowing in a universe all its own. And she was part of it, which was pretty fuckin’ awesome.

  They arrived back at their portal and passed through, reassembling themselves into their more normal forms. If there was such a thing as a normal form anymore. Martine wasn’t quite sure.

  “What did we do?” She stared at John, unable to move until he’d answered her question.

  “We hurried matters along, Martine. His replicant heart was failing. We didn’t do that, the creators did. Shanxi, from the sound of his call. We—I—simply accelerated the process. He now knows he has seventy-two hours left. What he chooses to do with them will determine how he is remembered.” John looked somber. “I doubt he will choose very wisely.”

  “It’s poetic justice, I suppose. He manipulated me into killing for him. We sort of manipulated his own heart into killing him.”

  “If it makes you feel better to think of it that way, then sure.” John grinned. “I still would have preferred to explode every damn cell in his body, but that’s just me.”

  She grinned back. “Bloodthirsty little bunch of energy, aren’t you?”

  “Where you’re concerned? You bet.” He hugged her. “Let’s go home.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “Our rooms for now. There’s more I have to show you, but it can wait for a while. We deserve some downtime.”

  Obediently she walked beside him, content, at peace for one of the few times she could recall. They’
d done what needed to be done, and now they were together. Life, however it could be described and whatever reality it was, had turned out to be pretty good.

  And when they were naked and joined, sweating and trembling in each other’s arms, it was more than pretty good. It was freakin’ fantastic.

  Some time later, when Martine had managed to acclimate her brain to her new environment, John woke her early with a teasing kiss to her navel.

  “Mmm.” She stretched and moaned with sleepy pleasure.

  “Wake up, love. I have something to show you today.”

  “I saw it last night. It’s really nice.” She rolled over and tucked her head into the pillow.

  “Not that.” He chuckled and tugged the pillow away, making her groan. “Come on. This is important. Really important.”

  His comment was followed by a sound smack on her now-bare buttocks and she jumped. “Shit, John. Do that again and there will be payback.” Laughing, she lunged for him, only to be captured by two strong arms.

  He grabbed her, holding her tight. “I love you so much. Feel free to take your revenge any time. But today is important. What I must show you will change so much…”

  Something in his tone woke her better than anything else could have, and she stilled in his embrace. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes, most definitely. Yes, everything’s okay. But we have some decisions to make and today’s the day we make ’em.”

  “Uhh…”

  “It’ll be all right, Martine. I promise. Just go get dressed. The sooner we do this, the better.”

  Curious, and more than a little apprehensive, Martine did as he said…dressed herself and followed him as he left their quarters. This time he headed downward, to an area of Theta she hadn’t seen. It was darker here, almost musty, as if few people came this way.

  Another door barred their progress and John stopped.

  “Beyond this door you will find answers to some of your questions, but probably more questions to which there are no answers.”

  “Very Zen, dude.” Martine tried not to reveal her nerves, but John was definitely making her jumpy.

  “I will be with you, Martine. Always. Never doubt that.”

  She relaxed and reached out to touch him, taking her usual delight and comfort in his warmth. “I know. I feel the same way. You’re part of me, John. Without you there is nothing.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  He opened the door and they stepped into their energy free-fall. Used to it now, Martine realized this was a different matrix, a much different data stream than the ones she’d experienced up to now.

  Dark pastels drifted past, leisurely and muted. There were few sounds—those she caught were like silk falling on snow. It was peaceful, quiet and a little too tranquil for her tastes, but not unpleasant.

  Dutifully, she followed John’s silver-blue light.

  He stopped and indicated she should look down.

  Beneath them was a room, a massive room that looked more like a cavern from where Martine was positioned. The floor glowed faintly green, and in this massive structure was row after row after row of what seemed to be boxes.

  Big boxes, oddly shaped, very similar to…

  Martine knew that had she been human at that moment she would have gasped. She was staring at uncounted hundreds of sarcophagi, opaque green sarcophagi, linked to various pieces of equipment.

  “What the…? Are these…are these what I think they are? People?”

  “Yes they are.” John’s words crept through her molecules, a chilling sensation as she absorbed the implications. “They are a few of what’s left of us. Humans. Clinging to life within these cocoons.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  John urged her down a row and paused at a particular place, dropping lower until they were right on top of the sarcophagus and staring at its viewscreen.

  A line of symbols shone above the blinking data charts. A name.

  Martine. Number Twenty-Seven.

  Before she could even take that one in, John pulled her away to another sarcophagus. Her attention immediately flashed to the name.

  John. Number Eleven.

  “I still don’t understand…”

  “This is who we are, Martine. This is our true reality. We are not human in the way most would imagine it. Our bodies were useless, deformed, mutated by a planet on the verge of unimaginable disasters. Those who survived found a way to free their neural networks, to interconnect, interface and create a new reality for those networks.”

  “You mean my reality, Eternal Tranquility…all that…”

  “A creation of the Pure Cortex Digital Stream. PCDS. That’s where we all live. Where we love, where we work, cry, do all the things that living entails. We can’t do it in our own physical reality. Now you can see why.”

  Martine’s energies trembled. “John, take me out. I need to get out of here.”

  They moved then, drifting back out of the cavern, heading toward the higher levels where light began to filter in, and Martine found she could clear away the darkness that seemed to have covered her.

  At last they were back in Theta.

  “Help me understand, John.”

  “We were born into a dangerous world, Martine. Our bodies didn’t fare well or react well to the environment. The entire planet was on the verge of self-destruction.” He walked to the window and looked out on the green hills in the distance. “But our minds. Our brains, love. We were the special ones. We had this DNA thing and that chromosome thing, neither of which I can begin to understand, but we had them. So did the others you saw in those caskets.”

  “Okay. So we were special. But physically useless?”

  “Yes. A trade-off, it would seem. Our bodies were put into those units and our minds linked into a digital stream. It was powerful, that stream, more powerful than anyone realized. Pretty soon the digital stream was self-sustaining, pulling all kinds of things from the minds of those who fed it.”

  “It picked our brains.”

  “Yeah, you could put it like that. A few thousand scientists would probably vote to shoot you for the oversimplification, but that’s it in essence.”

  “And then what?”

  “And then humans began to live in the data stream. The Pure Cortex Digital Stream. It offered a chance for life to those who had none, and a place to start over for those who needed it.”

  “Uh.” She frowned. “So…God, this is hard to accept. I created my own reality?”

  “Long ago, probably yes. But there’s a massive amount of commonality between us as a species. Similar habits, desires, vulnerabilities and so on. Eventually, the PCDS created a reality that met most of humanity’s specifications. We all hopped on board.”

  “And that’s the reality I was living as a facilitator?”

  “Yes. It’s also the reality you were able to leave. By virtue of your amazing Theta-compatible brain.”

  “Oh.” She sat down. “Give me a couple of millennia and I might be able to sort all this out.”

  “Yeah, it kind of feels that way, doesn’t it?” He hugged her. “Look, the abstract concepts are almost impossible to grasp. The technical stuff isn’t any easier. So let’s begin with the simple stuff.”

  “There’s simple stuff?”

  “Good to see you’re keeping your sense of humor about all this.” He grinned.

  “It’s either that or begin screaming loudly and long until somebody strangles me. In whichever of the realities can hear me.” She looked at him. “And I think my ears are bleeding.”

  “Okay.” He moved to stand in front of her and squatted, putting his hands on her shoulders. “Here’s the deal. We, being the amazing entities that we are, can pick our reality. We can go back to the old one, but obviously we’d have to find new forms since we died there.”

  “You mean we don’t have to stay here in Theta?”

  “That’s correct. We can return here any time. Most do. It’s a place where we can take tur
ns monitoring other realities. Keeping a check on things, and watching the Shanxi Corporation, for example. They’re everywhere. They’re part of human nature as well.”

  “Okay, so we can be part-time digital spies.” She nodded her understanding. “What else?”

  “We can pick a reality to actually live in. To build a home together. To marry, if marriage is a part of that stream. We can have kids. We can be human again.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. Really. We’re not gods, Martine, but we’ve been blessed by something strongly resembling a god. We try not to abuse that blessing, and that’s what Theta is all about. Protecting, giving back, steering realities back on track if we can. But when we’re not doing that? We need to live. To remember our humanity and keep touching all the good things about being human. We’re keeping everything going, making sure we’re ready as a species when the planet can support us once again.”

  “Wow.” There was little else to say. She simply let the ideas flow over her, knowing she’d have more questions than ever, but also knowing there was time to ask them. Time for both she and John to discuss this and everything else they’d experienced.

  “So our decision now is where do we want to go and what do we want to do?”

  She looked at him squatting in front of her, his eyes bright and his gaze fixed on her face. She knew him intimately on more levels than she’d ever imagined possible. She’d seen his humanity and his digital-energy signature.

  She’d fallen in love with both.

  She’d lived with him briefly in one reality and died with him in it, only to traverse invisible boundaries and find new realities at his side.

  Reaching for him, she cupped his face with her palms. “John, there’s really only one answer to your question.”

  He tipped his head to one side. “Just one?”

  “Just one.” She smiled. “I don’t mind where we go or what we do. I only want one thing. I want to be with you. You are my reality.”

  About the Author

  Born and raised in England, Sahara Kelly now calls herself an American, but manages to keep in touch with her heritage by making sausage rolls and watching the occasional rerun of Blackadder. Her family understands—being partial to a bit of British food now and again—and also appreciates the fact that she disappears into her own world for extended periods of time. Writers tend to do that, she tells them. And Sahara knows she’s blessed to be able to do what she loves—write! Genres are fields through which she dances merrily, pausing for a contemporary, then moving on to a fantasy or two with a wave to historicals if the wind is in the right direction.