by Denny Taylor
“You know more about existential risk than I do!” X-it said to Cat. “I didn’t know the Sick-Reapers are genetically modified.”
“I can’t take it anymore,” Cat wailed. “People keep dying. Humans are so-so-so – temporary!”
“Cat,” Word said. “How about a mooch?”
“Yes, yes, mooch, mooch,” Cat said, “I know you’re trying to distract me but when we leave the split second we’re going to have to face them sickerty Sick-Reapers and I’ll die if you die and X-it dies.” She gave out a yowl that shook the room and made the Walls and Four Corners wobble so badly Word almost fell off her chair and X-it had to hold on to the mantle.
“The problem is that the implications are beyond our grasp,” Et said, unaffected by the wobble. “This little blue dot of a planet will go on, and while it might heat up a bit making it conducive to some other life forms, it will not be fatally impacted –”
“Unless the A-I destroy it,” X-it said. “Or some bioengineered organism does something we cannot imagine.”
“It’s not out of the question,” Et said, seriously considering this possibility. “The A-I and other mutant life forms that humans have created are taking Earth into uncharted territory. It’s entirely possible all biological life forms will die.”
“Mooching,” Cat said. “Apologies. It’s a real problem when you’re Death and you can’t stand people dying.”
“Understood,” Et said.
“Can I ask a question?” X-it asked.
Et nodded.
“For a short time you were a beautiful blue,” X-it said. “But most of the time you just look like a very old woman. Why’s that?”
“Simple,” Et said. “We’re here in this room, not a palace or a temple, not a cloud. I’d like you to be comfortable. Besides, I like being an old woman.”
“So why did you turn blue?” X-it asked, wanting a more definitive answer.
“So you get the experience of seeing me in a form you might not expect,” Et said. “Might distract you at a moment when you might die if you lose your concentration.”
“Got it,” X-it said, “heavy,” his heart beating rapidly, then slowing. “Can I say one more thing?”
Et nodded.
“I apologize for my – my – whatever – behavior – just before you took me to the room with the bird,” X-it said, looking embarrassed.
“No worries,” Cat said, forgetting her worries. “No erection detection needed. Penal implant not required.”
“Cat!” Word said.
“Well he has to know,” Cat said. “Et said so.”
“Know what?” X-it said.
“I’m pregnant,” Word said.
“What?” X-it said.
“A baby,” Cat said. “Word’s having a baby!”
“Then we can’t go back!” X-it said, alarmed at the idea of Word facing her attackers again.
“We can’t stay in the split second,” Word said. “We have to go back.”
“No!” X-it said, looking first at Word and then at Cat. “How close to death – to dying – in the river – was Word when you arrived?”
“A split second,” Cat said.
Twenty-Nine
“We can’t go,” X-it said. “If they find out Word’s pregnant they will abort the baby. You must know there are no more totally human babies – they’re all genetically engineered. Their DNA is mixed with the DNA of other life forms.”
X-it started walking back and forth on the rug in front of the Fire, which seemed to get longer and shorter as he turned.
“And there are no natural births,” X-it said, one hand on his head and the other gesticulating. He looked at Et. “Babies are grown in fermenters. What chance will our baby have if we go back?”
“We have to go,” Word said, getting up and putting her arms around him. “I have to go. You forget I’m a Truth Keeper. I think my mother knew this moment would come. I think Grann did too. I have to go back and get the package and keep it safe – though I still don’t know what’s inside it.”
“I just don’t understand how what’s in it can be that important,” Ex-it said his face so close to Word’s that their foreheads were together. They stayed like that, arms around each other, not talking, while Cat jumped up on Et’s lap and Et comforted her.
“I know you’re right,” X-it said, holding on to her. “We have to go back, but I’d stay in this room with you and with Et and Cat forever to keep you safe.”
“Me too,” said Cat, who was looking much thinner than before. “Could we do that Et?”
“Possibly,” Et said, “if we were in a room, but we’re not.”
“So where are we?” X-it asked.
“Before I tell you where we are let’s talk about what happens when we return to – to –” Et said, not finishing the sentence. She backed up. “I actually don’t know what will happen – this is the first time humans have –” She stopped. “Remember, I can no longer see the future. For five hundred years I haven’t been able to see anything after Word jumped in the Hudson River to get away from the Sick-Reapers.”
“So why can’t we just skip that bit?” X-it said. “Can’t we go on as if it never happened? Et, you could drop Word and me off and we’ll go light candles or something. Live with the people who are left in the city?”
“Even if Et could, I can’t live like that anymore,” Word said. “It’s been so nice to be here and not be hunted. I don’t want – I’d rather be –”
“Dead,” Cat said, yowling. “Et, I can’t take this anymore.”
“You don’t have to,” Et said. “What we do next will change the future.”
“And how will we do that?” Cat asked.
“When we undo the string on the package,” Word said, “we’ll find the answer to your question.”
“Are you sure?” Cat said. “Definitely sure? Or are you guessing?”
Word looked at X-it.
“Don’t you think this has to be the moment when the package is unwrapped –” Word said, looking at Et – “and we save the world?”
“Almost,” Et said. “I’m convinced there’s a message written on the inside of the oiled paper but –” Et hesitated “– I’m not sure how to tell you but there’s a little more to it than that –”
“Tell us!” Cat said, yowling. “I’m done for. The suspense is killing me!”
“Just by the shape of package there has to be an oblong box inside the wrapper,” Word said, “and whatever is in the box is a relic that goes back forty-five million centuries – or as far back as the first sign in the Universe? Is that really what’s in the box?”
“I’m dying!” Cat said, going limp on Et’s lap. “Dying!”
“You can’t die,” Et said, exasperated. “You’re Death.”
“And you’re making it hard to concentrate,” Word said, poking Cat. Then to Et, “Tell us, the first sign in the Universe, is it in the box?”
“Sort of,” Et said. “If you can think of me as a sign.”
“You’ve lost me,” X-it said.
“You’re in the box?” Word asked, laughing. “If you’re in the box we’re in the box and that doesn’t make sense.”
“Sense or not,” Et said. “We’re all in the box.”
“Right now?” Word asked, eyes wide, trying to grasp this new twist..
“Seriously?” Cat said, suddenly up on her paws with her tail in the air staring at Et with a look that can only be described as maniacal. “We’re in the package tied up with a bit of old string? You’re making it up!”
“I don’t get it,” Word said.
“Four Corners, Walls, but no windows,” Et said, quietly. “We’re in the box – look around. There are no windows. Just Four Corners when we need them. For those in the box the room can be big or small.”
“But you took me upstairs –” X-it said.
“Look around. There are no stairs,” Et said. “I took you to a space in the box that is impenetrable so Sick-Reapers co
uldn’t hack your consciousness and find the package.”
“Why did you keep asking me about the package?” Word asked Cat.
“Weren’t you listening? I didn’t know! Et didn’t tell me she was living in a box!” Cat said. “When I pulled Word out of the Hudson I homed in – if you like – on Et. I had no idea where she was. I just knew that Word’s life would be lost if I didn’t find Et –”
“Don’t,” X-it said. “It’s too much –”
“I’m still not sure how you got here.” Cat said, looking at X-it, her eyes narrowed to black slits. “It’s a mystery.” She looked at Word. “Do you know?”
Word shook her head, surprised at Cat’s question. She was uncomfortably aware that Et and Cat were both looking at her intently as if they’d like to hack her consciousness but knew that she’d know if they did.
“It’s not important,” Cat said, making light of it with a lopsided Cheshire Cat grin and her narrowed eyes now opened wide – more a brash orange than yellow – as she said to Et, “Never thought you’d be living in a cardboard box!”
“It’s not cardboard,” Et said, laughing, “but now you mention it – it could be cardboard – sometimes the Walls are corrugated.”
“Ha! Ha!” Cat said, a little too forced. “I’m the funny one! You’re the serious one! You never told me –”
“Cat,” X-it said quietly, still trying to take in what Et had just said.
“Wait!” Word said, eyes wide. “Does that mean we’re – at this moment – in the exact spot where I hid the package?”
“Yes,” Et said, smiling.
“You’ve gotta be kidding,” X-it said, both hands holding his head.
“Where’s that?” Cat said. “I thought we were off the planet. We’re not?”
“Far from it,” Word said.
“Am I the only one who doesn’t know where we are?” Cat said, yowling. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because we didn’t know!” X-it said.
“Et did!” Cat said.
“But Cat dropped me on your front door step,” X-it said, still not getting that Cat did not bring him. It seemed a trivial matter even though it was not.
“It was an illusion,” Et explained. “You were dropped inside the box. The stone step, the door, like the Fire were – are – all illusions. The mountains, rivers, meadows are all –”
“In the box?” X-it said, incredulously.
“Like Whoville?” Word asked, “in Horton Hears a Who – a micro world?”
“Sort of. It’s a good analogy,” Et said.
“I still don’t get it,” X-it said.
“Believe me when I say I cannot see the future after Word escaped from the Sick-Reapers by jumping in the Hudson River,” Et said. “You’ve only got to think of your own exploration of existential risks to know that it’s entirely possible –”
“That a cataclysmic event is going to happen,” X-it said. “But it’s unlikely that it would take place at the exact moment that Word jumped in the river.”
“I need to get this,” Word said to Et. “You used to be able to see the future but now you can’t – right?”
Et nodded.
“You can still see the past?” Word asked.
Again, Et nodded.
No one spoke.
“Can you see any people in the future?” X-it asked.
Et shook her head.
“What about the planet?” X-it asked, his voice rising.
Et shook her head.
Silence.
“I have a question,” Cat said, her vocal chords stretched thin.
Et, Word, and X-it looked at Cat, and so did the Walls and Four Corners.
“I’ve forgotten,” Cat said, frazzled. “This is all so complicated. Wait!” she said, her fur looking as if she’d had a frizzy perm. “Here’s my question – what was the point of the big old door and stone step if we were already in the box?”
“Good question,” X-it said. “I was wondering that too.”
“My answer’s not logical but it is truthful,” Et said. “For the first time in forty five million centuries I’m scared – it’s a human emotion I’ve never felt before. It’s a terrible moment. And yet – what’s happening might still be averted. I just didn’t know how.”
“I’m not sure how a door and a step have anything to do with what you’ve just said,” X-it responded. “It can’t be that complicated.”
“I needed a barrier,” Et said. “Something between me and whoever, whatever, accessed the box – my room – something between me and some man-made machine or advanced A-I that hacked into the box.”
“Highly unlikely,” X-it said.
“Man is now creating new life forms,” Et said. “How likely or unlikely was that? Cyber wars are taking place. You heard Cat. Artificial Intelligence hostile to biological intelligence, running amok all over the world.”
“Human induced alterations to the biosphere,” X-it said, “creating a post human era.”
“So the huge iron and wood door,” Cat said her fur straightening, “was like an archaic portcullis to protect you from the dangers of the new anarchistic technological world?”
“Precisely,” Et said. “It gave me a sense of protection from hostile interlopers.”
“I get it,” X-it said. “Actually the stone step and the door are humorous, if you think about it –” he looked at Et, unsure if she would find it funny. “If you don’t mind my saying – like a sign ‘Keep Out Sick-Reapers!’”
“Impenetrable that’s for sure,” Et said. “What’s really funny is that Death has the power to split a second, but it’s taken me five hundred years to figure out what happens next and I still don’t get it.”
“We’ve just got to think longer and harder,” Word said. “And that’s exactly what we’ll do.”
“You know,” Et said. “You live in a solar system that is one planetary system among billions. One galaxy among billions.”
“I’m cool with that,” X-it said.
“Every atom in your bodies can be traced back to before the solar system was formed.” Et looked intently at Word and then at X-it. “I keep thinking the clue to the future is somehow hidden in that fact.”
“Go on,” Word said.
“Every person on the planet has inside them atoms from hundreds of different stars,” Et said, “which lived and died in different parts of the Milky Way galaxy more than five billion years ago.” She smiled. “So you’re all intimately linked to the stars – and this is the wonderful way in which we realize the unity of the cosmos.”
“And you?” X-it asked.
“Like you, I am also the stuff of stars.” Et said, without elaborating.
“Isti mirant stellae!” Word said. “We are the ones who look in wonder at the stars – and we are made of them.”
“I’m not made of dead stars,” Cat said. “I don’t have atoms. I’m just a specter.”
“How does knowing our atoms can be traced back to dead stars help us?” X-it asked, ignoring Cat.
“It interrupts the clockwork of our mechanistic world,” Word said. “And changes the way we think about the Universe.”
“Imagining ourselves,” X-it said, “as being midway between atoms and stars changes the ways in which we think about the complex relationships between people and the planet.”
“We have to imagine the spacetime continuum differently,” Word said. “Et, when you see the past or the future do you see it as X-it or I would see it – like movies?”
“No,” Et laughed. “Hard to explain but you could say I see it in the form of energy –”
“Like atoms?” X-it asked, beyond impressed.
“Something like that,” Et said.
“Can you distinguish X-it from me?” Word asked.
“I can,” Et said. “I can see you up to the moment you took a dip in the Hudson.”
“But if we’re made up of atoms of dead stars shouldn’t you be able to see those atoms in the
future?” Word asked.
“Exactly,” Et said, glad that Word understood. “It’s not just that you disappear, it’s that your atoms disappear.”
“So whatever the A-I are doing they have reached a point at which they can destroy life forms at the atomic level?” X-it said.
“If you look back can you see us?” Word asked again looking intensely at Et. “Not just people – X-it and me?”
“Yes!” Et said wrinkles fading. “I can see you –”
“You remember the ending of Italo Calvino’s Daughters of the Moon?” Word asked, rushing on. “‘We were seized by a frenzy’ – remember?”
“I don’t remember Calvino,” X-it said, “Let alone the ending of Daughters of the Moon.”
“‘We began to gallop across the continent, through the savannahs and forests that had covered over the Earth again and buried cities and roads, obliterating all trace of everything that had been,’” Word said, quoting Calvino.
“Oh, I do remember,” X-it said. “You used to read it to us in the Field and the kids would pretend to be woolly mammoths and use their arms for tusks or trunks.”
“‘And we trumpeted,’” Word continued quoting, smiling and nodding at X-it, “‘lifting up to the sky our trunks and our long thin tusks, shaking the long hair of our croups with the violent anguish that lays hold of all us young mammoths, when we realize that now is when life begins –’”
“Are you suggesting we go back to the time of woolly mammoths?” X-it asked sounding worried.
“No,” Word said. “But if we’ve interrupted the spacetime continuum by remaining in the split second, perhaps our future is now sometime in the past?”
“But when and where?” Et said, not actually asking.
“Tell us what you see,” Word said.
“Hard to explain,” Et said. “I can’t see you in a way that you’d understand, but what I can see is the sign on your wrist.”