The Immortal Harvest

by L. J. Wallace

  Well that’s impressive, he thought as he strode to his newly materialised FSC and opened it slowly.

  He pulled out a cold drink and put it to his lips. Just like on his world, the container responded to his touch and an opening appeared that allowed him to take a sip. The juice was sweet and he gulped it down.

  The juice initiated pangs of hunger. He remembered the bioflavonoid pellets that he had placed in his pocket when his breakfast had been rudely interrupted. He pulled them out and popped them into his mouth.

  As the pellets dissolved he looked around his room. He was amazed that it was exactly the same and concluded that the aliens were able to see into his mind.

  I guess I am the alien, he thought as if to correct himself and wondered whether he was some sort of exhibit to be gawked at like some of the animals he had seen in zoos when he was younger.

  As if on cue he heard a voice from behind.

  “Welcome Michael, we are very pleased to finally meet you.”

  Michael turned slowly and was confronted by the holographic image of an alien species that seemed vaguely familiar to him.

  The alien was almost purple in colour with humanoid features, except that it was very tall and thin. Its head appeared out of proportion to the rest of its body and it had large eyes that seemed to provide all of the facial expression as the nose and mouth were small in comparison. Its ears were very small, almost non-existent.

  “We trust everything is to your liking, we have tried to make your stay as comfortable as possible,” the alien said as he made a sweeping gesture around the room with one of his extremely thin arms.

  “Yes, I am very impressed,” Michael said as he moved to a chair and sat down. “Although I think that a bit more oxygen at the start would have been nice.”

  “Of course, you must sit down. Your extraordinary abilities have enabled you to survive quite a journey, but even you have your limits.”

  “Thank you,” Michael said as he took another sip from his drink. “You seem to know a lot about me. What shall I call you and where exactly am I?”

  “You may call me Oolax. You are currently at a juncture in time and space; we sensed your entry into the wormhole and assisted you in traversing it.”

  “We?” Michael asked. “You mean there are more of you?”

  “I am merely a projection of your mind; we exist outside of this juncture. Our species inhabit a world very different from yours in another Universe; however we have encountered your species before. We sense that you are the result of this encounter.”

  Michael smiled as he realised why they were familiar to him. He shared their DNA.

  “You’re my long lost relatives?” he said and then laughed.

  “Yes, that is correct. You are genetically similar to us. You and your son are quite unique.”

  Michael raised an eyebrow at this last statement and almost choked on his juice. He coughed violently.

  When he regained composure, he stood up and moved closer to the image of the alien.

  “How do you know about Justen?” he asked angrily, throwing the drink container against the wall.

  “Calm down, we can see inside your mind, we know everything you know.”

  “Well stop it. Get out of my mind!”

  “You have the ability to stop us Michael,”

  Of course I can, Michael thought as he erected mental barriers in his mind.

  Satisfied that he had prevented any further intrusion, he stepped back slightly from the alien.

  “Well since you know so much about me and my son, you would also know why I came to be here,” he said as he made a sweeping motion around the room with his arm.

  “You have been betrayed.”

  Michael noticed that Oolax’s eyes conveyed a genuine sense of empathy. He could almost feel the concern emanating from him.

  “Yes I have. Can you help me?” he asked as his feelings of anger morphed into feelings of remorse and loss as he realised how far he was from his son.

  He looked up to see that the alien seemed to be concentrating on something.

  “One moment please Michael,” Oolax said just before he disappeared.

  Michael realised that Oolax must have gone to confer with the others that he had spoken about. He decided to use the time he had to have a good look around his enclosure.

  He could see that every detail of the room he had been living in had been exactly duplicated. He marvelled at the way he could pick up objects and actually feel them like they were real.

  He wondered how much more technologically advanced the aliens could be. He realised with a feeling of trepidation that his continuing existence was entirely in their hands.

  Just as he had completed that thought, the alien reappeared.

  “It has been decided we will help you and Justen, Michael, there is however, one condition,” Oolax said as he swept his arm across in front of him.

  Michael could see that his cell had changed once again. One of the walls displayed a series of moving images. Incredibly, the images were portraying his life.

  He recognised his past, his present and even a future. The last part portraying his future disturbed him greatly, although he somehow understood the context of the message it conveyed. He had a painful choice to make. He grimaced as he turned to face Oolax.

  Oolax nodded his head when he saw Michael’s reaction.

  “I see that you understand what must be done.”

  “Yes, you want me to choose.”

  “Yes, Michael, unfortunately only you can make this future happen. The choice is yours,” Oolax said as he swept its arm again and caused the images to dissolve, leaving only the dull grey wall.

  Michael slowly bowed his head and then slowly looked up at Oolax and nodded.

  “So be it. Now tell me Oolax, how am I to accomplish this task. I have no means of travel; I can’t just wish it to be.” Michael said in frustration as he turned and paced to other side of his cell.

  “You underestimate the power of your mind Michael. Do you remember every feature of your room on your world?”

  “Yes, of course I can. I have an eidetic memory.”

  Oolax nodded in agreement. “Yes, we know you have Michael. So what is missing from this one?”

  Michael scanned the room thoroughly and knew Oolax was right; there was a holographic photograph of Sylvan missing. It was supposed to be sitting next to Justen’s image on his book shelf.

  How did I not see that before, he thought as he scanned the room again to make sure that the photograph was the only thing he missed. Once satisfied he presented his finding to Oolax.

  “There is a holographic photograph of Sylvan missing,” he said, “Why is it missing?”

  “Make it appear,” Oolax said, ignoring Michael’s question.

  “How can I do that? This is your room, your technology, I cannot make things appear or disappear at a whim. I don’t have the ability to manipulate matter like that,” Michael said snapping his fingers as if to emphasize the point.

  “You manipulate matter all the time Michael, you just don’t realise it. Even without our DNA, your human mind has far more latent abilities than you realise. Even you, use only a tiny portion of that ability.”

  “Is that right? Well tell me, how can I use more?”

  “It’s all about belief Michael and overcoming fear. You must believe that you are capable of such a feat. It was your mind that destroyed the laboratory where you were held when you were a child. Your anger overrode your fear.

  You used your mind to manipulate the Boson field at the sub atomic level to produce the telekinetic effect. It was your mind that enabled your world to create a Lorentzian wormhole which enlarges the existing sub atomic wormholes which have existed since the beginning of time. Your mind intrinsically knew that it could be done.

  All you have to do is believe that you can manipulate matter in the material Universe. Focus your mind on the holographic photograph, envision it appearing before you.”
<
br />   At first Michael was dumbfounded by the simplicity of matter manipulation. He had no idea that he was capable of such feats until Oolax had explained it to him.

  He understood now that he possessed the power to achieve almost anything and he wondered whether Justen possessed the same abilities.

  The thought of Justen at the mercy of Mundus Nova, helped him to focus on the holographic image of Sylvan. He closed his eyes and pictured the item in his mind, turning it every possible way to grasp the full context. He pictured the atomic and molecular bonds.

  On the shelf in front of him a slight glow began to appear. At first it was like a smudge of light. Michael knew that at the sub atomic level the particles required to constitute the holographic photograph were assembling and combining.

  Slowly the item began to materialise and the smudge of light began to become clearer like the image in a camera lens, becoming clearer when the focus aperture is rotated.

  The intense focus in Michael’s mind left him feeling drained of energy, like he himself had donated the molecules to create the object. He inhaled sharply and opened his eyes.

  He smiled at the end result of his effort. He walked over to the bookshelf and picked up the newly formed holographic photograph.

  He was surprised, for some reason he expected the object to be warm. In fact it was no warmer than the room’s ambient temperature.

  He held the object in his hands and turned to face Oolax.

  “It seems that you were right my friend,” he said and smiled as he gently felt the item and marvelled at its solidity, it’s wholeness.

  “We are pleased Michael. Now do you think you have the strength to conquer a much bigger challenge?”

  Michael raised his left eyebrow and looked up from the item.

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “You need to create a portable Lorentzian wormhole generator which will be tuned to your DNA. With it, you will be able to traverse between Universes at will.

  However, Michael, be aware that this will precipitate you having to make that choice and once it has been made it will be irreversible.”

  Michael coughed nervously and walked back to the shelf and put the object he created back next to the image of his son. He turned to face Oolax.

  “You know my friend, choice or no choice; it is one thing to create an object that I am intimately acquainted with. It is quite another thing, an almost impossible thing I would say, to create an item that I have never seen or even imagined.

  How would I even begin to visualise such a thing? How could I possibly replicate the exotic matter required to power it? Does such a thing even exist? What you ask of me is impossible.”

  Michael could see that Oolax was pondering the questions that he had thrown at him. He watched as Oolax suddenly closed his eyes and held out his hand with his palm facing upwards.

  A series of bright swirls of light materialised on the palm of his hand causing his hand to change colours from purple to blue then green then yellow and then finally red. The red swirling vortices of light began to become denser and coalesced into a sphere the size of an apple. In fact to Michael, the object kind of looked like an apple.

  However this image was short lived as the sphere lost its redness and changed to become almost pearlescent. It turned into a solid object, perfectly round with a strange inner glow.

  Michael watched as Oolax closed his hand around the sphere and held his arm out, perpendicular to his body. He then quickly turned the sphere. Michael inhaled sharply; he could not believe his eyes as an event horizon of a stable wormhole appeared in front of Oolax.

  He watched mesmerised as Oolax opened his hand and let the sphere float away from him. It drifted outwards towards the wormhole and then quickly disappeared into the event horizon, causing the wormhole to dissipate as quickly as it appeared, taking the sphere with it.

  “Oolax, why did you do that? I could have used your device to save my son.”

  “I merely wished to show you that such a device exists. Now that you have seen one you can create your own. The blueprint is in your mind. We are no longer required!”

  And with that – Oolax vanished.

  Forty

  Once inside the building, Bang-Bang and Lisa were surprised to see a fully functional Soup Kitchen.

  There were many homeless people sitting at tables enjoying their nightly bowl of soup. Beside each soup bowl was a plate with a small bread roll.

  The room was quite large and there must have been at least a hundred tables arranged in a rectangular formation like that which you find in a typical school classroom.

  The only odd thing that Bang-Bang noticed was that there were elevators on either side of the dining hall. Bang-Bang wondered why there would be upper and lower levels to a soup kitchen.

  Perhaps, he thought, this might be a completely operational Homeless Shelter.

  “This must be a completely operational Homeless Shelter,” he heard Lisa say from behind and he smiled to himself as he said,

  “You know, I was just thinking the exact same thing.”

  Bang-Bang made his way to the nearest table and sat down with a group of people who were obviously enjoying their meal and paid very little attention to him.

  Bang-Bang cleared his throat and gently tapped the nearest diner on the shoulder. He was an elderly man with a long grey beard and very bushy grey eyebrows. He reminded Bang-Bang of a Muppet. He seemed friendly so he decided to gently interrogate him

  “Excuse me sir, I’m sorry to interrupt your meal but can you tell me where those elevators go,” he said quietly as he pointed to the other side of the room.

  The old man took a long slurp of his soup and then said in a loud voice.

  “Ya dumbass, theys go up and down,” the man chuckled and sneered at the other diners who were sitting at the table. He smiled at Bang-Bang and showed off his blackened and broken teeth. He took another long slurp and then looked back at Bang-Bang.

  “Aw kid I’m just pullin’ yer chain, I bin told there’s showers and all such things up stairs. It must be good too”, the old man said as he slurped another mouthful of soup and spilt half of it down onto his beard. He used the back of his filthy sleeve to mop up the moistened beard.

  “And why do you say that?” Bang-Bang said, trying not to show his disgust.

  “Well, I’ve bin sittin here for a while and I’ve seen plenty go up but I aint seen any come back down again, except fur that pretty lady there,” the old man said as he nodded his head in the direction of the elevators.

  Bang-Bang turned his head in the same direction and he noticed a rather good looking woman approaching them from across the dining hall. Bang-Bang thanked the old man and moved back over next to Lisa.

  As the woman got closer, Bang-Bang could not help but notice how perfect her facial features appeared to be, even though he sensed that the woman was much older than she looked.

  “Excuse me, can I help you,” the woman said as she appeared to be tapping the side of her head.

  Bang-Bang was a bit perplexed by this strange action but decided to ignore it. He noticed that the people, who were eating, looked up momentarily from their food and then as if on cue they all resumed eating. The old man flashed him another set of those not-so-pearly whites and then resumed his slurping.

  Bang-Bang looked at Lisa and noticed that she seemed to want to take the lead on this encounter. He just smiled and said nothing.

  “Yes, we are Federal Agents, I am Lisa Roberts and this is Buck Lewiston er Miss. . ?” Lisa said as she held out her hand in greeting. The woman ignored the gesture.

  “It’s Miss Smythe, Miss Susan Smythe I am the Co-ordinator for the Mundus Nova foundation. This is one of our philanthropic enterprises. Is there a problem Agents? Is there something I can help you with?”

  “Well, Miss Smythe, you see we are a little confused. We are looking for the Paradise Apartments which we were led to believe were in this group of buildings,” Lisa said as she looked
around the room. Bang-Bang noticed that Lisa had winked at him before she spoke. He was about to comment when he was interrupted by the woman.

  “I’m afraid Agents, you are too late; the Paradise Apartments were condemned. They have been demolished,”

  “They have been demolished in the past two days? That’s a bit sudden isn’t it? Where did the residents go? Lisa asked as she shot Bang-Bang another look.”

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t think it’s for me to decide when buildings should be torn down, and as for the building’s residents, well that’s also none of my concern,” Miss Smythe said in a slightly raised voice as she tapped the side of her head again.

  “Now, I’m sorry but if you would please excuse me, Agents Roberts and er Lewiston is it? I am rather busy. Can you see yourselves out?”

  “Yeah, okay Miss Smythe, thank you for your time. Come on Agent Lewiston, we will check the building next door.”

  “Oh I wouldn’t bother, it’s also condemned and rather dangerous,” Miss Smythe said as she turned on her heels and quickly strode away.

  The two agents watched as Ms Smythe entered the same elevator that she had come out of and they watched as the lights above the doors indicated that she had selected “Down”.

  “That’s very interesting,” Lisa said as she led Bang-Bang out of earshot of the diners. “We can finally put a face to Mundus Nova.”

  “Yes, and I think Ms Smythe appeared to be a bit agitated, and for someone who is supposed to be helping the homeless, I don’t think she is very compassionate. She was acting very peculiar, I think she is trying to hide something,” Bang-Bang said as he swiped at a loose strand of hair which, now that it was drying, was starting to fall across his face.

  “Definitely,” Lisa said as she smiled at Bang-Bang, “She has piqued my curiosity. How about we stick around for awhile and check this place out. I’ll be interested to know about these other floors.

  I think there’s more to it than meets the eye. This is definitely more than a soup kitchen, come on Bang-Bang let’s forget about the other dangerous buildings and snoop around here for awhile.