Long Paradise

by James Murdo

  “Thank you!” Seremend shouted at the Phratians. They ignored her and ran after the creature. She stood in silence, until a rustling sound from the same direction the Phratians had left in became steadily louder. She ran forwards, along the path. The rustling grew louder, and she saw glimpses of something between the thick stems. They split, and Galphranx forced its strong body through, onto the path.

  She ran towards it and threw her arms onto it. “You’re safe!”

  There isn’t much time. We need to move. Tracker won’t be stopped for long.

  “Now you talk?”

  Now I’m ready. We need to go to the hatch-point you entered before. There, we should have some answers.

  “Tracker is wounded.”

  It can jump into the form of others. The Phratians are unlikely to be able to stop it, and neither are we. We need to go, now.

  With that, they fled.

  46

  RETURNED MEMORIES

  Seremend stared at the mountain’s slope below them. The yellow path cut its way down, through the green ground just like before. The mouth of the cave waited behind them.

  “It’s different,” she said, quietly.

  Galphranx moved beside her.

  In what way?

  “Nothing’s here – no Memories of Hope, none of it.”

  Did you think it would be the same?

  “But they’re not here. They should be here.”

  You are concerned the copies are missing.

  She nodded. “It’s so familiar, but nothing’s the same.”

  Like you just said, it’s different. I’m not sure there’s anything wrong with that.

  She looked at Galphranx. “And what about you?”

  Who am I, you mean?

  “You’ve been evasive, barely told me anything. Galphranx, how long have we travelled together now? I know nothing about you.”

  I understand. My body took quite some time to become acquainted with. The Galphranx are a strange species.

  She squinted at it. “What?”

  Indeed.

  “Who are you? What’s happened to Galphranx?”

  That’s the name of this creature’s species. Nothing more.

  “Should I be concerned?” she asked, sharply.

  If you like, but not about me.

  “All this time, I’ve known nothing.”

  That’s not true. We’re companions in this place.

  She exhaled, loudly, and gestured to the cave. “Do you think Tolren’s waiting for us behind the hatch-point?”

  We’ll find out, won’t we?

  She kicked softly at the floor. “Well, let’s go then.” She turned and stared at the cave’s entrance. “No point in waiting anymore.”

  And Tracker may catch up with us.

  “That’s something I don’t understand. How’d something so big fit in?”

  How did it manage to come through the Spires?

  “Yes – it’s enormous. And the pole-forest from when we entered the Outer Layer. How did any of it get through?”

  We didn’t explore the Spires in true detail. Just a tiny fraction. It’s likely vaster than you can comprehend. Possibly far vaster than even the Outer Layer.

  “Than I can comprehend?” She coughed. “And I take it that you can?”

  Our minds are different.

  “I’m listening.”

  The companion formerly known to Seremend as Galphranx moved towards the cave.

  “What are you doing? I have more questions.”

  Aren’t you curious? There’ll be time for discussion afterwards.

  “And if there isn’t?”

  Then discussing anything now might be pointless anyway.

  Irritated, she shook her head and followed.

  They moved along the cave’s path. Seremend gazed about them as though everything was new, making an effort to take it all in.

  They arrived at the hatch-point, finally, and came to a stop before it. After a few moments, the faint, remembered sound of whirring mechanics filled the silence. The hatch opened, and a bright, white light filled the cave.

  “One thing,” she said calmly, readjusting her pack. “Before we go.”

  What is it?

  “Your name. What is it?”

  Ciqalo.

  They moved forwards, with Ciqalo edging ahead of Seremend, for the first time.

  47

  IMPERFECT PEACE

  Stepping into the hatch-point had not felt particularly strange for Seremend. No lurching, no change in temperature or gravity – nothing like that. Just the blinding white light of the hatch-point boundary overloading her vision, forcing her eyes to readjust.

  When her sight came back, she looked around. She was in the middle of a vast, golden, domed structure. She waited for her eyes to fully correct, but the strange shimmering that seemed to permeate everything just around the peripheries of her vision did not go away.

  The hatch-point was behind her, and it was closed. She spun around. There was nothing else, no one else, no sign of Ciqalo. She rushed around to the other side of the hatch-point. It looked the same as the side she had come from.

  Her eyes wandered worriedly around, looking for something to latch on to. In the distance, where the curved dome met the floor, were pockets of blackness.

  “Ciqalo!”

  She shouted many times, to no reply.

  “Galphranx!” she tried.

  She walked away from the centre of the dome. The walk became a run. Breathing heavily, she stopped. The pockets of blackness were archways. They lined the entire perimeter of the dome, varying in shape and height. Some were small, too much so for her to enter, many were of adequate proportions, and some were far larger than was necessary – easily large enough even for the monstrous form of Tracker to fit through.

  She carried on, towards one of the archways that was a few multiples of her arm span across. Peering into it, there was a dim light at the end of the long, dark passageway. She heard a skidding sound from nearby.

  “Ciqalo?” she said loudly. “It’s me, Seremend.”

  The skidding became louder. It was coming from one of the nearby arches.

  “Ciqalo, is that you?”

  Seremend.

  Ciqalo moved into the light from out of a nearby archway.

  “Where’ve you been, Ciqalo?” she demanded, angrily.

  Waiting, for you, Seremend.

  “But we just came through together. Where did you go?”

  Ciqalo appeared much thinner than before. Its circular base was smaller, and despite moving with more levity, it looked weak.

  I came through before you and waited.

  Her eyes widened. “We went together.”

  But I was first.

  “How long?”

  Many, many years.

  “How is that possible?”

  Come, this way.

  Ciqalo moved back into the darkness of the arch it had come from. Seremend hurried after it. The journey through the tunnel was quicker than she had thought it would be. The pinprick of dull light at the end became brighter. The air seemed to become fresher and excitement began to grip Seremend. Reaching the end of the arch, she gasped.

  Strange vegetations with impossibly vibrant colourings and unimaginable varieties, far more so than from all the territories she had ever travelled through, covered the ground as far as she could see. They blended in effortlessly with each other as well as with the rolling, multicoloured skies. Winding rivers flowed around in fascinating configurations, meandering through the landscape. Everywhere, there were microcosms of activity.

  The shimmering across everything was far more pronounced than it was within the dome. The sheer scale of it all nearly took her breath away. She had the warmest sensation that it was untouched, waiting for her to explore.

  “I don’t understand.”

  We’re here.

  “It’s…”

  Take this.

  “It’s a paradise…”


  Then it’s a long paradise. Here.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Seremend saw Ciqalo unfold at the top, as it had so many times before when she had known it as Galphranx. Instead of baring its teeth, there was a small rectangular device atop the soft, fleshy fold. Seremend forced herself to stop looking out and to focus on what Ciqalo was offering. Upon recognising its purpose, she lifted it up. It was similar to many such devices she had used over her time in the Construct. A simple holo-projection device.

  Activate it.

  She pressed the central button on its side. A whirling, kaleidoscopic holo was immediately projected over reality, bathing her in an ethereal, multihued light. Streaks of brilliant white and silver connected mysterious, spherical objects – of all different sizes, and too many to count. The more she peered into the spaces between them, the more she saw smaller ones in the background. They comprised almost everything. The objects spun and glided around one another in seemingly random, beautiful patterns. Occasionally, she tried to focus on small sections of a spherical surface, sometimes seeing brief flashes of red, but her attention was quickly grabbed away.

  The holo disappeared. Reality came back around, and she was equally entranced again.

  “Where are we… and what was that?” she asked, without taking her wide eyes off the view.

  I’ve had some time to explore here. That is the best representation I have been able to construct of where we are.

  “What is it?”

  A meta-shape.

  “What?”

  We are situated on one of those vast globes, which are all joined to each other through the connecting rails you saw.

  “It’s hard to get a sense of the scale of it all.”

  As far as I can calculate, even the smallest globes are many multiples the size of a typical star. While we believed the Outer Layer was vast, this is comparatively immense. Each globe is likely larger than the entire Outer Layer we came from, and I’ve been unable to determine how many globes there are in total, although I admit we cannot know if there are more versions of the Outer Layer as well.

  “How can…?” Seremend was lost for words.

  This way.

  Seremend followed Ciqalo. A moment later, her eyes bulged out even further. Giant, gleaming, silvery rails emerged from across the landscape, combined and thrust upwards away from the ground.

  Everything is connected.

  “This is one of the connecting rails from the projection?”

  It must be.

  “Must be?” she said, surprised.

  I shall rephrase my answer. You are correct.

  “What are they for?”

  The connecting rails have some parallels with the Spires, except instead of collecting sentients, I suspect their purpose is to facilitate movement.

  “You haven’t been to look?”

  Ciqalo ignored the question and nudged her to the side.

  Directly forwards from your current line-of-sight, in the distance, is another large dome, such as this.

  She nodded, spotting the golden glint in the distance. “How many are there?”

  I believe they cover this entire globe.

  Seremend spluttered, “All of this… until now… have we only just entered the true Construct?”

  Construct – that’s a good description of everything.

  “It’s what Memories of Hope called everything… from the Spires onwards.”

  You’re possibly correct, that could be one way of thinking about it.

  “What’s it all for?”

  I don’t know.

  “Where is everything else? The Spires, the Outer Layer?”

  Behind us.

  “How?”

  The engineering is beyond anything I’m capable of understanding. Far beyond.

  “So, there are things you’re unable to understand after all,” she said, with a hint of humour.

  Undoubtedly.

  She frowned, without taking her eyes off the rails. “You’ve changed.” She pointed at the rails. “When can we go? Let’s–”

  Wait.

  “What for?”

  The other. We must wait.

  She was speechless. “Of course, Tolren… I… How could I have forgotten so quickly?”

  I suspect that is the purpose of the Construct – to draw everything within it forwards. Sentients travel from the Spires to the Outer Layer, and then to here. None return to the Outer Layer once they find this place.

  She managed to tear her eyes from the scenery to look at Ciqalo. “You’re implying it is possible, then?”

  The hatch-points are two-way. Once they’re recharged, you can return, should you wish.

  “Recharged?”

  There’s a short delay.

  “How do you know all this?”

  Ciqalo led her further around the outside of the dome, taking a thin path that split off down a shallow slope. At a seemingly arbitrary point, Ciqalo veered off to the right. Seremend was about to enquire why when a small, white structure rippled into existence. It was box-shaped and far smaller than the dome – no more than a few long strides across.

  Precautions.

  Ciqalo moved towards the closest wall of the structure, and through it. Seremend followed cautiously.

  Come through. It’s safe.

  She pushed her hand into it, feeling a tinge where her skin touched the surface. Holding her breath, she walked through.

  My laboratory.

  The wall sealed behind her with a sharp, fizzling sound.

  She looked around and frowned. The room appeared similar to the Roranian-style cabin room – her introduction to the Spires.

  I thought you’d prefer the familiarity.

  Seremend looked at Ciqalo strangely. “Is that humour? I can’t tell with you at the moment.” Without waiting for the response, she walked over to a screen. It displayed the same images Ciqalo had shown her through the holo-projection, albeit a miniature version – projected a hand’s width from the screen itself. Many other screens around the square room generated similar images. A few were blank.

  “Have you sent probes up?” Seremend pointed upwards.

  None last long.

  “Is that how you know the domes cover this entire globe?”

  Ciqalo took a moment to reply.

  Yes.

  “Where does this come from?” she asked, gesturing around them.

  Over the years I waited for you, I was able to use various devices from others who passed through nearby hatch-points from the Outer Layer. Once I had constructed certain fabrication units, the raw materials around were sufficient inputs to allow for more complex manufacturing.

  “When will I see Tolren again?”

  You may not wait for long.

  She shook her head in bewilderment. “How do you know so much?”

  There are those here with long memories.

  “Others? Where are they?”

  There are a great number of domes containing hatch-points.

  “What’re they waiting for?”

  They follow their own paths, as we do. Many are such as myself. Biologicals rarely have the determination or reason to stay. The curiosity is too strong.

  “Such as yourself? You’re not… a biological?”

  I am a machine-lect.

  48

  PARTIAL INFORMATION

  They walked from Ciqalo’s laboratory up to the large dome containing the hatch-point. Seremend forced her eyes down in a conscious effort to avoid the distractions of the scenery.

  Much of it made sense once I explored this place and was able to learn from other machine-lects.

  “What did they tell you?” Seremend asked.

  Many things. They explained how the hatch-points are traversable from this side. It is possible to return.

  “But none do?”

  Staying here is a task enough, even for machine-lects.

  “I don’t understand why they stay.”

  As I told you before, they’re fo
llowing their own paths. Sometimes they’re waiting for their companions to come through, like you.

  “They won’t move on, but they don’t want to go back and tell everyone who’s stuck in the Outer Layer about this place?” Seremend laughed, bitterly. “How selfish.”

  Will you go back for Tolren?

  She did not reply at first, stunned by the question and her own instinctive response. “I… I need to wait for him here.”

  They walked in silence, entering the great, domed structure through the same arch as before.

  Risking a journey back is unthinkable, for all who have reached this place – myself included.

  “What have you been doing all this time? I don’t mean to be rude.” Seremend shot Ciqalo an apologetic glance. “I mean, I know you’ve created your laboratory and explored–”

  I sent the others back.

  “You sent the copies?”

  I did.

  “How?”

  There will be time to explain.

  “But… they weren’t for me, were they?”

  You were already on your way.

  “They were for Tolren?”

  Who else?

  “All this time… I thought the copies were a message to me. But they were a message for me, to Tolren. I saw the path, and you created it.”

  Exactly.

  As they exited the archway, which opened out into the cavernous hemispherical room, Seremend crouched down and put her head in her hands. “The plan, the whole idea… it must have come from somewhere. Who…?”

  Ciqalo stopped beside her.

  Whoever made the Construct, I assume. They must design the paths.

  “And if you hadn’t created the copies?”

  Perhaps other paths would have been constructed.

  She looked up. “You really believe the copies will lead him here?”

  They must.

  “How much time?”

  I cannot know. Time is not always linear in this place.

  “Then what?”

  What do you mean?

  “What happens when Tolren arrives?”

  We are complete.

  “Complete?” She frowned, rising back to her feet. “We’ll explore this place together, won’t we?”