Long Paradise

by James Murdo

  “The Tracker,” Memories of Hope said, not as a question but as a statement. She shrugged again.

  “But where did he come from? He’s not the same as the others?”

  “He certainly thought he knew you. Besides, does anything surprise you in this place? Here we have the primitive, the advanced, the matter-based and the incomprehensibly energy-based, shadow-bios, membrane-swappers… even the disparate self-organised granulites and the vast, incomprehensible multi-parted sentients – the Construct takes them all… types that we don’t have the language to describe and probably never will. There’s too much to know.”

  “You call it the Construct?”

  “All of this, the Spires, the Outer Layer, the Inner Layer. It’s got to be called something.”

  Seremend hoped Memories of Hope would elaborate, but she did not. “Nothing should surprise me anymore,” she admitted.

  “Gone are the times where we feel the rumble of our own success and are able to delve in deeper. Leaving the Spires behind, coming here, we only learn more questions. The only true answer is the permanent mystery.”

  “But you wait here, anyway?”

  “What else should I do? None of the other hatch-points let our kind through.” The old machine-lect stroked her chin. “But the Original passed through here.”

  They sat next to each other without speaking for some time. Seremend looked slowly around her, finally breathing calmly and taking everything in.

  Memories of Hope broke the silence. “Better than Two is up there.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “He’s the only copy ahead of you. Taking his turn in the cave.”

  “D’you think he’ll be successful.”

  Memories of Hope chuckled. “Of course not. But I don’t know for sure, do I? I awoke, like all the rest. Gifted some small pieces of knowledge by the Original. Only difference is my fuel’s in here, I think.” She placed a palm flat against her chest. “No fuel flask for me. But aside from that, we’re probably the same.”

  “Then what’s the point?”

  “I can’t be sure.” Memories of Hope brought her knees up and placed her arms around them.

  “If we don’t try, we’ll never get through. Is that it?”

  “Something like that.” The female machine-lect looked at her keenly. Seremend felt the overwhelming desire to check her hood was still correctly placed. “I may not have a flask, but I know one day my supplies will be depleted. I will die our strange half-death. I am a machine-lect, and all machine-lects die here.”

  “Do you know what it’s all for?”

  “None of us do. But would it be any different if we weren’t in the Outer Layer, or the Spires?”

  *

  Memories of Hope continued answering evasively, clearly holding back on certain topics, before offering to walk with Seremend for most of what was left of the journey. Despite how the mountain appeared, the path eased towards the end.

  “This is where I leave you,” Memories of Hope said. “Better than Two will be in the cave now, trying.”

  A tear rolled down Seremend’s cheek. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “You’ll be different.”

  Memories of Hope’s words struck her like a bolt of lightning. She froze, while the female machine-lect walked around to face her, and placed her hands on her shoulders.

  “What do you mean?” Seremend uttered.

  Memories of Hope smiled. “Your voice reverted some time ago. And don’t forget, I heard your conversation with our frozen friend.”

  Seremend gasped. It was true, she had been speaking in her true voice for some time without realising. Usually, she would never have been so careless.

  “I… I didn’t…”

  “It’s okay. I know my mountain.”

  Memories of Hope gripped each hand around her shoulders and fully embraced her. When she let go, Seremend took a step back and gently pulled down her hood.

  A deep smile formed across Memories of Hope’s face. “Perfect. Even if I do say so myself. You know, in all this time, I wondered if it was my fault. If my attempt to pass through had somehow stemmed the flow. Some say I was the first, some say many others passed through before me. There really is no way to know. But I did wonder if I was an accident, that I had made him reconsider. I even wondered if he did all this for his own amusement. Unlike all those who entered before him, the Original made his presence known back in the Outer Layer, and into the Spires. He fashioned machine-lects in his image and somehow flung them about the Construct.” She gestured around them. “I’ve seen more species than I believed could exist, let alone co-exist. I’ve seen territories change, their very physics reset and altered. I’ve seen more copies than I care to remember, yet I’ve never, ever, seen myself. Not once.” She placed her hands on Seremend’s shoulders. “Now I think I understand a small piece of it, at last. It’s beginning to make sense. It wasn’t my fault, it wasn’t that at all. He was waiting, for all this time. The Original was waiting.”

  “Waiting for what?”

  “For you.”

  “What do I do?” Seremend asked. Her voice was shaky.

  “That’s for you to figure out. You’re the key. You’ll open it for us all.”

  “Will you come with me?”

  Memories of Hope shook her head. “Someone has to guide the rest. As you’ve noticed, those at the base of the mountain can become… wayward.” She grimaced as though in embarrassment. “But you seem to have dealt with a number of them.”

  “Please come?”

  “I may look like you, but I am still only a copy. My role is here, for now.”

  27

  MOUTH OF THE CAVE

  Better than Two skidded to a stop outside the entrance. Hearing a noise, he looked to the side. Memories of Hope was there, with a hood half-off her head, kneeling and fiddling with a strap on her pack. It was almost night time.

  “What’re you doing here?” he demanded, gruffly.

  “You ran out?” she replied, innocently.

  “Of course.” He stamped one of his feet angrily against the ground. “It was becoming too dark.”

  “Ah, yes, you don’t like the dark.”

  “No one does.”

  She smiled.

  “You’re supposed to wait lower down,” he said irritably.

  “Am I?” Memories of Hope asked with a hint of humour that only irritated him more. She rose from her kneeling position and pulled the hood fully back. She was beautiful. It was a strange thing for a machine-lect to know that. Even though he was a copy based on a biological specimen for which Memories of Hope was similarly based on the biological counterpart, he had never encountered any of his maker’s species before – actual biologicals. There was no calibration level to infer beauty, and no gifted knowledge of what the Original’s definition of beauty was. It was just obvious and true.

  “Why’re you so happy?” he asked. “And why’ve you got a flask now?”

  She ignored the question, walking past him to peer into the blacker darkness. “You were just inside. Tell me, what’s it like?”

  He looked at her incredulously. “You know.”

  She fixed her eyes onto his.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I was just… You were right. Everyone was. It’s hard. There’s nothing there for me.”

  She nodded, understandingly. “Remind me.”

  “Nothing happened, if that’s what you mean.” He turned from her gaze and kicked weakly at the air. “A dead-end. Same as for everyone else.”

  She looked down at his three legs. “Better than Two, what did you try?”

  He emptied his pockets, spilling the implements onto the ground. “You’re welcome to them. I’m sure you’ve collected many.”

  She made sure her flask was correctly fastened, and bent forwards to look them over carefully, picking the implements up one by one and turning them over in her hands. “What’s this?” She held the one with moving fronds up to him.

 
“You asked on my way up.”

  “It’s dark.”

  “It’s a Quillian device – measures anomalousness. If something’s strange, it finds it. That one’s clearly broken, though. See – it’s registering something now, but it was as-good-as dead in the cave. Probably a delayed response or something. Keep it.”

  “Ah, yes. I should have known. Clearly doesn’t work.” She laughed at her own joke, which passed by Better than Two completely. “Quillians do get around, don’t they?”

  Better than Two nodded uncertainly. “I suppose.”

  “You keep these. You may need them in the future.”

  “Suit yourself, but I’m leaving them here. Useless.”

  “Was this your first attempt?”

  He stared at her again, unsure of how to respond. “You know it was, Memories of Hope. You’ve seen everyone that’s ever attempted. You were the first to try.”

  “Some say.” She was still smiling. “Go along with it, please.”

  “This was my first attempt, yes. I only just made it here from the Spires.”

  “And how long were you in the Spires?”

  “Eleven thousand, one hundred and twelve years, rounding up. Standard measurement. But I was unlucky. Took a long time for any biologicals to join me.”

  She tutted, seemingly more for her own benefit than his. “So much time.”

  “I just wish we knew the meaning of it all. Is he blocking us? Was his interest in the Outer Layer… a joke?”

  “You think so?” she asked him, seriously.

  “Who knows?!” Better than Two blurted out.

  “D’you think he’s hiding behind there, somehow? Still creating machine-lects in his own…” she looked again at Better than Two’s three legs, “…vague image.”

  “Of course,” Better than Two said, suddenly angrier. “Everyone knows that. All of us, except for you – you’re unique.” He looked around haplessly. “I should leave.”

  “The rejection hurts, doesn’t it?” she stated matter-of-factly.

  He nodded. “It does.”

  “What will you do?”

  “Attempt to enter the Inner Layer like the biologicals. Through another hatch-point.”

  “Follow some other rumours?” she surmised, questioningly.

  “Exactly. Anything but this again.”

  “But a copy has never made it through any other way.”

  “Other machine-lects have. And who knows what to believe?”

  “Non-copies? They’re incredibly rare. And I’ve never seen another type of machine-lect myself, have you?”

  Better than Two sighed. “Need to attempt it, don’t I?” He swatted his hand down and tapped the flask at his hip. “Unlike biologicals, we don’t have forever. Our lives end with certainty, theirs don’t. This place is for them.”

  “Well, I wish you luck.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Oh – and best stay off the path at the base of the mountain a little longer.”

  “Why?”

  “The copies waiting at the bottom.”

  “They didn’t bother me on the way up.”

  “They usually try to get you on the way down. Avoid them if you value your fuel. It’s just some advice, you don’t have to follow it.”

  He nodded, waved abruptly, and turned his back to her, walking slowly away. He took the one remaining device out of his pocket and fiddled with its controls. A moment later, a dim orange glow settled around him. With that, he set off down the mountain, into the night.

  28

  THIRST OF THE MACHINES

  Better than Two looked across from the mountain into the distance. In the near-darkness, some of the closer settlements were visible by their glinting lights. There were almost infinite varieties of dwellings across the Outer Layer, with coexisting representatives of all races imaginable. Thoughts on where to venture next filled his mind as he navigated down a modestly steep section of the path. Finally reaching a brief plateau, he stopped – not through fatigue, since that was the preserve of biologicals, but through confusion.

  Only a few paces away, he could now see another figure just ahead, sitting beside the path and facing across it.

  “Hello?” he said clearly, to no response.

  The figure was at the same spot where he had first encountered Memories of Hope on his ascent of the mountain.

  He walked over. “Excuse me…” Awkwardly, he bent lower. It was Memories of Hope. She did not register him.

  “Memories of Hope – how did you get here so fast? And why are you waiting in the dark?” He put his hand into his pocket and fiddled around. A moment later, the dim orange glow around him brightened. “There we go.”

  He sat down beside her – inelegantly with three legs but quicker than most could manage – and tried to encourage a conversation.

  “I apologise about before… for my mood. I was upset about the cave. I’m sure it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

  Her indifference did not overly concern him. She was different to the rest of the copies, and known to exhibit a variety of moods.

  “Just how did you get down here so fast? I know it’s your mountain, but… you’ve changed your attire as well.”

  She continued staring into the distance, with a fixed smile on her face.

  “Well, I’m glad you don’t seem offended. As I said, I do apologise for earlier, it was rude of me. I was upset.”

  A cooling breeze that had picked up earlier lapped around them. Other than from him, it was the only motion in the stillness of the night.

  “Nice here, isn’t it?”

  “Oi – you!” Two copies, surrounded in a bright blue glow, the same colour as the territory’s daytime sky, came into view, running up the path towards them. Better than Two stood up and waited.

  They reached him. Both were bipedal, with the same faces and general bodies as him, aside from his extra leg. On closer inspection, one had no ears, while the other had strange compound eyes with a slight amber glow – similar to his luminary device. Before speaking, they both reached for their flasks and took sips, in unison. That was a very rare sight.

  The bipedal with no ears was the one who had initially shouted. “What’re you doing?” he demanded, clipping his flask back to his side.

  “Talking with Memories of Hope, obviously.” Better than Two turned to her but she remained silent, as she had been for some time now. Confused, he looked at the no-eared copy.

  “She’s gone.”

  “She’s right here.”

  “She’s dead. Look. Seems she ran on fuel, like the rest of us.”

  “What?” Better than Two shifted immediately and stared at her frozen face, incredulous.

  “Once said she suspected it was a condensed fuel compound, internally stored and very dense.” The no-eared man slapped the flask fastened to his side. “But still… many of us had hoped… thought she might be something else.” His hand wandered back to the flask and he took another sip. Better than Two’s eyes widened. “If you ask me, this can’t be fuel anyway – not real fuel, not the normal type, since none of the manufactured stuff works. Not exactly hard to make, is it? Must have something else too that we can’t detect.”

  Better than Two frowned, unsure of whether to look at Memories of Hope or the reckless sipping. “She’s really gone? Are you sure?”

  “What else could it be? Look.” The copy snapped his fingers in front of her open eyes. Nothing registered. “I came to speak with her and found her like this. That’s why I went to fetch him.” He pointed a thumb sideways to his companion. “The others will be disappointed.”

  “What… what happens now, then? And… what’re your names?” Better than Two asked.

  “Can you please look at me when you’re speaking?” the no-eared man said, tapping the smooth sides of his face with both hands.

  “Sorry.” Better than Two dragged his eyes from Memories of Hope. “What’s your name?”

  “Repeat the Question.”r />
  “I asked your name.”

  “I told you, it’s Repeat the Question.”

  “Ah – sorry. And–”

  “Vision of Night,” the strange-eyed man said, reaching for his flask to take another sip.

  “Well, I’m Better than Two.”

  “Rude,” Repeat the Question said.

  “No – that’s my name too. It’s Better than Two.” He motioned to his third leg.

  “Ah,” they said in unison.

  “What happens now?” Better than Two asked.

  Repeat the Question looked at Vision of Night. Better than Two assumed Vision of Night was looking back at him, although with no movement of his eyes it was hard to discern.

  “We take her back,” Repeat the Question said. “To the others.”

  “Agreed,” Vision of Night added, nodding. “She was special. Deserves a special burial.”

  “Seems there’s only one Original after all,” Repeat the Question said, sadly. “I wonder what she was based on.”

  “Probably just a far-fetched variant, underneath it all,” Vision of Night said. They both reached for their flasks to take another swig. Better than Two frowned again.

  “It’s a shame,” he said.

  “You’re right,” Vision of Night said, nodding, fastening his flask back at his hip. “She was possibly the only female machine-lect variant. If she wasn’t just a far-fetched copy of the Original after all, like I said.”

  “So far,” Repeat the Question added. “As much as that even makes sense.”

  They both turned to Better than Two. He looked between them. “Yes… she was very special.” They continued to stare. “She… must have been so quick, to be able to reach different parts of the path so quickly.”

  “That’s a strange addition to the conversation,” Repeat the Question said.

  “Very strange,” Vision of Night agreed, reaching for his flask to take yet another sip. “What makes you say that?”

  “I met her up there.” Better than Two pointed up the path. “At the cave entrance… after my attempt. I left her, but then she was already here… so she must have been quick.”