Parallel Worlds- Equilibrium in Threat

by A I Zlato

  The investigation was causing his brain to be on fire; he felt like nearing madness at any time. This was too much for him, and he decided to send a message to Baley, informing her that he was taking a day off. He needed to go back to work; to things he knew; to take a step back. She could well continue all alone; she would not need him to develop a new theory, to remove other children, and to see a single weather phenomenon where there was... more.

  Paul got up and walked to the terminal, thinking that he had used that damn device more times since the beginning of the investigation than throughout his life. He typed to write the message and chose the recipient. Chip number, First Circle, Special Agent Baley, such was the description the device requested. After sending the message, he did not even wait for an answer. Anyway, it was not a request, just information. He needed to leave; he needed to find consistency in his life; in his mind. He used the tablet because he did not have the courage to go to the laboratory. Now he had the urge; the need to go there.

  He went out and found Edgard waiting. Together, they flew again over the city, leaving the forest behind them, heading toward the Tower. Paul turned back pointedly to remove the Machine from his sight, and to watch the dark forest. The green mass, which nobody in the city had ever dared penetrate, stretched to the horizon. What could possibly be on the other side?

  “Edgard, what is there beyond the forest?”

  “Another way.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Another possibility.”

  “I feel you don’t like what’s going on there.”

  “You are right.”

  “What is happening there?”

  “There is no answer for you there. Just another worldview.”

  “No answer? How can you tell?”

  “Your future is in the beginning.”

  “OK... Forget what I just said.”

  “I never forget; I just have a linearity that is the reverse of yours.”

  “I will not even try to pretend that I understood what you just said...”

  They spent the rest of the ride in silence. Edgard dropped him at his lab, and Paul found happiness again while staring at the cubic building. He crossed the hall, greeting the guard, and went directly into the archives room. He found the manuscript he had begun studying before... before everything. In its protective envelope, it lay where Paul had placed it, and seemed to be waiting. He sighed contentedly; finally, back to normal. He took the document carefully and went to his office. He gently placed Thomas Anderson’s diary on his reading table, and settled in. Then he noticed Vlad’s absence. The day was already in progress, and yet there was no indication that his assistant would be present that day, unless he was spending time wandering the halls. He was right; Vlad entered his office at that moment, a cup of coffee in his hand.

  “Hi, boss!”

  “Hello, Vlad!”

  “What happened? You don’t look right... you are dreadfully pale.”

  “I’ve been better, it’s true... Just drop the topic of my health, would you?”

  “OK... Say, I learned that you had set up a team to study documents relating to the case.”

  “It’s true, yes; the news spreads quite fast here.”

  “Why did you not ask me to participate? It’s not nice of you; you know how this investigation interests me.”

  “I’ve already said my contribution is to study old documents... and that exercise does not interest you, right?”

  “That’s true, but now with a dedicated team... with a goal... I thought you were just working alone, when you sent me wandering.”

  “I didn’t chase you away, as you say. I simply explained that I was the one assigned to this investigation, so it was up to me to do the job.”

  “Sandra and Alexander were not assigned, as far as I know.”

  “Vlad, stop talking. Both researchers have skills you do not possess and never will because you have decided not to take your job seriously.”

  “Say what you like. Meanwhile, your investigation is shit, right? Children kidnapped, held against the will of their parents, religious discrimination, and all for nothing.”

  “We are working on different trails.”

  “Say that to the parents who cannot see their children!”

  “I want to believe that this is not easy, but it’s a small inconvenience compared to the... Problem.” Paul said, defending Baley’s approach although he shared his assistant’s viewpoint.

  “Yeah. That’s how we justify arbitrary actions, right?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Perhaps you think I have no skills, but I still took some history lessons about the Elders, including systems of repressive, totalitarian government.”

  “Since then, we’ve created the Machine. Do you remember? The technology you idolize? All that was done under the auspices of the Machine.”

  “So what? It is there to preserve the Equilibrium; it is normal that it does everything to restore the Equilibrium. Meanwhile, Baley and you used the Machine to sequester children. We can’t say anything under the pretext of city safety. I call that a dictatorship.”

  “It was Baley who decided that. I...”

  “Oh, no... you now put all responsibility on her!?! Is that your defense?”

  “I am not defending myself... and you know what? That’s enough! I came here to get back to work — precisely because I want to put all this behind me — not to talk to you. Now if you want to help me in my work, you are welcome.”

  “Not even in my dreams...”

  Vlad exited the room, feeling mad. Paul was left alone in his office, somewhat nervous. Yet he could not blame his assistant, who echoed what the majority of the city thought. The majority... its imaginary was reality. If the majority saw Baley as a dictator, she would become one de facto... until she found the solution. She would then be a hero. From hero to dictator, the boundary was well... thin and permeable.

  He abandoned his thoughts in order to focus on the diary. He was only at the beginning of the study, and his file contained only the physical description of the manuscript title and author as well as the first page. On his notepad, he had written some early reflections, including the enigmatic phrase “Any road followed precisely to its end, leads precisely nowhere.” that Edgard had uttered earlier when Paul mentioned the presence in the cyclone. Then he remembered that evening when, soaked in alcohol, he thought that Edgard was abandoning him. Instead, the kandron had sent him to study this manuscript... this one in particular, and had ordered him to read, learn and find. After that, Paul wondered if he had actually decided that day to leave by his own will or at Edgard’s instigation. Hard to say... and he was not about to ask. He wanted to comb through the diary now, and not get lost in another discussion with the kandron.

  Paul deactivated the protective covering of the manuscript and equipped himself with foamed plastic gloves to avoid damaging the fragile pages. He opened the cover, on which the symbol of the Machine was engraved.

  He gently turned the first pages, in which Anderson spoke of the Earliest Space; he had already read those. He stopped on a blank page, certainly corresponding to a break in the narrative. He turned the sheet. The next page started with Space H. There was no mention of how the author got there. Anderson also did not specify why this space was named H., if indeed it was the first created. Was this one of the self-evidences that the author had not even thought about explaining? Paul noted his translation as he was browsing pages, although some sentences were understandable as they were. Eager to discover more, he continued.

  Thomas Anderson described the discovery of a virgin world where everything had to be built, and the work of an entire society in laying the foundation of a new life. He was a builder and had participated in the development of the overall architecture of the city; the circular structure, the purpose of which was centered on the Machine to ensure a possible extension by adding additional circles. Only three circles were planned in the original constructio
n design, which was sufficient to accommodate the first generation. Paul could, therefore, derive the approximate number of people, 10,000 settlers, who, by themselves, built the city in which one million people were now living... Anderson mentioned the IT teams and the electronics teams, who worked in the construction of the Machine, while builders finalized the structure of the Tower. Paul had always thought that the Tower had been built before the Machine was, but Anderson’s diary provided a different account. Both construction projects were simultaneous, ensuring that the structure of the Tower matched at any point the Machine’s needs. He also learned that the building was intended to be scalable, without specifying whether the Tower could be extended in height or width. The Machine thus could be brought to progress, to improve, to develop. He had always seen it as a fixed entity, able to improve only through optimizing programs carried out by successive generations of mechanical engineers. He discovered that the earliest humans of Space H. had wanted the Machine to undergo a much larger development in the future. Had this possibility been exploited over the subsequent centuries? Paul had never heard of any expansion work. This manuscript truly contained a wealth of information, and challenged a number of items that had been taken for granted.

  He straightened up and saw Edgard through the window, spread out at full length on the lawn, a posture that foretold a long discussion with the security guard. The kandron lifted its head, looked at him, and sent him a comment.

  “Everything that is written is not necessarily visible at first glance.”

  “I have to finish the translation, then discuss the possible hidden meanings.”

  “I’m not talking about that. I say that everything that is written is not necessarily directly visible.”

  “You want to talk about invisible ink as in spy novels? Look, Edgard, this is a personal diary, not a top-secret document.”

  While responding to Edgard, Paul pondered the rich decoration of the wooden box that contained the manuscript, suggesting an important document. How could the preservation of a diary be so necessary?

  He decided to pass the manuscript under UV lighting, more to please Edgard than to discover a hidden message. He activated the protective casing to carry the title in the imaging room and installed it under the lamp. He turned pages one by one, but UV rays revealed nothing, except a few spots. He nevertheless continued, passing more quickly, so that he almost missed a text with lowercase characters, trapped between two lines. He moved his magnifying glass and recorded the image thus expanded for analysis on his screen. He reviewed the document again to make sure there was nothing else, and then returned to his office. He put the manuscript on his reading table and activated his terminal to study the picture he had taken. He then read.

  “The concept of the space was created to save a lost world, victim of overpopulation. The majority opted for the Equilibrium, but I know it is a dead end, because any road followed precisely to its end leads precisely nowhere. The first rule of the space will be ‘Do not do tomorrow what you did yesterday.’ This is my message to my descendants. My guardians will be the stewards”.

  Did this mean one should question the Equilibrium? He had hoped to return to work, and to find landmarks, as he had lost all control in the investigation he led with Baley, and now this diary was revealing things Edgard had alluded to before... That’s why the kandron had insisted so much that Paul study the document closely!

  “Do not do tomorrow what you did yesterday.” What was the hidden meaning? And who were these mysterious guardians? Paul was puzzled.

  “Why are you refusing to see the obvious? Why don’t you follow your true path?”

  “And what should I do, in your opinion?”

  “You take pleasure in asking questions, but the answers disorient you. The answers are not yet a formulation of reality — one that will lead to the solution. You have to hurry. Your future will soon be locked, and there will be no alternative.”

  “I cannot go, Edgard. I’m tired. I just want to get my life back to where it was before Baley disrupted it with her investigation. I want to resume my work on the Earliest Space; the study of ancient manuscripts that confirm my theories, not this diary that challenges a fundamental concept on which my life and the lives of all the people of the city, the lives of their ancestors and the lives of their descendants is based!”

  “The Earliest Space, as you see it, does not matter.”

  “As I see it? My work is not important to you?”

  “No.”

  For just a moment, Paul lost his footing. His mind led him into a whirlwind of thoughts that were alien to him. He visualized spaces like planets orbiting around a black hole, which attracted them. Each was a sphere, bounded in space and time, orbiting around a vortex of nothingness. The planets inexorably got closer to the center, attracted by gravity. They were swallowed up one after the other, disappearing into the abyss. The black hole absorbing all — material, light and even time... to be sucked in by a black hole... to disappear into nothingness... nothing there... no change... the Equilibrium...

  Child ghosts with giant shadows lay on three concentric circles around the black hole, and cried, “There is no life in nothingness. We show you what to expect.”

  “Edgard, help me! I do not understand... What is happening to me? Looks like I’m daydreaming! I wanted to find my work, and now I dream of the dead children...”

  “Your destiny is there.”

  “With children chanting ‘There is no life in nothingness. We show you what to expect.’?”

  “It is written, ‘Do not do tomorrow what you did yesterday.’ The message is there. The imaginary of the majority. Alter the beginning.”

  Everything will disappear... nothingness... what lies ahead for us...

  “I cannot see the future!”

  “It is still nothing but a possibility, but not for long.”

  “Edgard, please, help me...”

  “That’s what I am doing. Stop denying reality. Accept those correlations that you are presently rejecting.”

  Nothingness... the Equilibrium... the Permanent Equilibrium... the presence in the temporary cyclone...

  for how long... there is no life in nothingness... to alter the beginning to save the future...

  He began to understand.

  Tears are pearls of consciousness that spring up when we do not want to listen to what our subconscious wants to tell us.

  The Spirit of the Multitude

  CHAPTER 40

  SPACE H. (1ST ENCIRCLEMENT)

  Iris ran to the Unique Forest, leaving behind Fighter and the others. Since she had met them, her life had changed. Before, she was a sad and rebellious girl, arguing every day with her parents. Before, she would try to explain her point of view, show them how the Machine had enslaved them. She felt her life shrinking day by day, an existence already planned without the possibility of choice. Before, she took refuge every night in her room to cry, pointing her eyes to the black ceiling. Before, she hated herself. She hated her lack of courage, her ugliness, her whole life; blamed herself even for the fact that she was alive. Now she had Fighter, Eric, Aimie and Kahila — best of all, Eric. They were her new friends. Her only real friends. They shared with her a rejection of that life planned by the Machine, the city enslaved to it, the existence that was planned for them. Each had his or her respective reasons. Fighter had, according to his own account, talked to a Servant who opened his eyes. Eric hated the Machine because it had done nothing to prevent his brother’s death, which, in turn, had caused his mom’s death. Aimie and Kahila had discovered that machine engineers, who were supposed to improve its programs continually, were only shadows with very limited power. When they found themselves assigned to the periphery after Graduation, the removal of their chips had kicked off their ‘hate process’ in earnest. Iris, meanwhile, did not have good, objective reasons. She had no real story to tell, besides a long descent into hell, when she became aware of the cracks in which the Machine locked her and all
the people of the city. She nonetheless shared the detestation of the artificial entity, as they all did. Like them, she wanted a different life. Together, they went where no one had wanted to venture. Together, they discovered the unknown, the unexpected.

  Every evening, after class, Iris rushed to the rail station to see her friends. Together, they planned their destination — Iris, Fighter and Eric via their chips; Aimie and Kahila via the terminal. Destination: periphery. They knew the itinerary by heart. Iris was paying no more attention to the landscape during the trip, the buildings whose sizes diminished, the lowering of the population density. She was with her friends; that was the only thing that mattered.

  While hopping off the rail, Iris ran, beating them all, but followed closely by Eric. She leaped over brambles, and made her way through the high grass. She ran toward freedom. Her feet founde their steps on the ground with assurance. Her body knew the way, the location of stones, of sharp-leaved plants, of crevices. She ran, her mind seeking solace.

  She entered the forest, gliding among trees. This dark place had seemed quite unattainable the first time she had seen it. She had felt shattered by the pain. Without a permanent data stream in her chip, she had been missing something. She had helplessly watched the green mass before her, unable to walk. Then she had managed to approach it gradually, pushing her boundaries, weaning herself off the contact of the Machine. Every day, she had advanced a little more. Every day, she had gained confidence. She had seen deeply in herself, that she could do it. She remembered the first time she had touched a trunk with her fingers. The first tree in the Unique Forest. She had won! She had defeated the Machine and its influence, withstanding an inactive chip. She had earned the right to independence. The forest had first appeared hostile to her, as it was so different from what she had known so far. Branches clutched in her hair, scratched her face. The uneven ground, littered with roots, dead branches and sometimes pebbles, made it difficult to walk. That day, she deeply loved this place. Once nestled against a tree, she appreciated the contact. She sniffed the delicate smell of mushrooms that filled the forest in the season, coupled with humus perfumes. Under her feet, leaves and branches creaked when the foam sagged limply. She had run from the rail, short of breath, to smell, touch, and feel this forest. She also wanted to reconnect with the presence like the last time. She had the impression that a conscious entity had sought to reach her. She had initially thought she was crazy and had been reluctant to tell others. Overcoming her fear of rejection, she entrusted things to them. She had then realized that she was not the only one. All, to varying degrees, had felt something in the forest. Eric felt the same way; that a living mist, a caress of conscience, had wanted to talk to him. That day, Iris ran as fast as possible to find that presence. Leaning against a tree, she caught her breath.