Showing posts with label Time Travel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Time Travel. Show all posts

Monday, April 9, 2012

Echoes - Part 1 of 1

© 2009 by Henry Melton



Unclear translation of stream 802 follows:
Aristotle invented the first time machine, after the battle of Issus when the famed theoretical physicist, Xerdeles was captured by Alexander and sent to his old instructor as a gift.  The insight of his new Persian slave matched so well with Aristotle's own work on the nature of space and time that he shelved his promised work on extracting energy from the binding energies of atoms to develop a prototype of the time travel device.
Alexander was disappointed at the delays in the promised 'Atomic Bomb', but he lusted over the promise of changing history.  A chronic thorn in Greek cultural identity had been their disastrous defeat in the Trojan war, and Alexander jumped at the chance to not only avenge the disgrace of his ancestor Achilles, but to remove it altogether.  Alexander knew exactly where to strike, to change the fate of that entire war.  Hephaestion, Alexander's favorite agent, was sent back 900 years to assassinate Aponnen while he was a simple instructor in King Priam's household using the entire electric output of the Greek empire, channeled through Aristotle's device.
The young princess Cassandra, daughter of King Priam, was witness as the stranger materialized in Aponnen's quarters and grabbed the startled man by the throat and raised his knife.  Hephaestion gloated for an instant as he held the the life of the man who would have invented the steam catapult that would have destroyed the Greek fleet at Troy.  
The knife had barely plunged into Aponnen's chest when the ripple started.  Of course, the entire industrial  and scientific revolution started by Aponnen was wiped out in that instant, destroying the advances on which time travel itself was built.  
Before Cassandra's horrified eyes, the stranger vanished, pulled into the time singularity his own knife stroke had created.  She was never able to get anyone to understand what she had seen.
###
The industrial revolution happened for the first time again, in the Fifth Century, during the global expansion of the Holy Roman Empire. Besa, working in the Justinian University on Elephantine Island, just below the great Nile Dam of St. Mark, gathered the greatest intellects of Egypt in one place with the goal of creating the first Sahidic language encyclopedia. 
In the great exchange of ideas that followed, a group of a dozen students of space and time hit upon the time travel technology, and nothing could stop them from appealing to Besa for access to the electrical power from the great dam to activate it.  Besa gave his permission, enchanted with the idea of sending a historian to record the exact words of Christ when he gave his blessing to the Blacksmith of Bethany, one of the most revered scriptures in the scientific world.  
The historian was carefully trained, and sent back to join the group of disciples following Jesus.  Keeping a low profile, the only change he made was to convince Peter to rest, while he would assist Jesus in the errand to the blacksmith.  But at that instant, the entire account vanished from the gospels of Mark and Luke, and the scientific advances of five centuries -- and the historian -- collapsed into another time singularity.
###
Albert Einstein was the first man to discover the variation on space and time that allowed practical time travel while working at ETH Zurich in his position as a technical advisor for the Swiss army. 
In 1913, in the midst of the World War, as Kaiser Fredrich IV was marching the combined German-Russian army from Prague to Budapest in retaliation for the deaths of his father Wilhelm II and his own wife Cecilie, the Defense Department of the Confederation of Helvetica ordered an attempt to change twenty six years of bloody history.  
Of course, no sooner had the Swiss temporal agent in 1887 alerted the Czar's guards to the assasination attempt by Aleksandr Ulyanov, then the years of war and millions of deaths and the world wide fear that had driven Einstein to join the Swiss army in the first place, vanished into a time singularity.  The new civilian version of Einstein took a different career path, and never discovered the time modification equation.  
Alexsandr Ulyanov's brother was deeply affected by his execution, and later took the name Vladimir Ilyich Lenin.
###
Vincent Jackson was the first man to discover the time travel possibilities, in the year 2038.   He was a quiet and methodical worker, content to develop the ideas in private while his more public, and published works on space-time geodesic measurements won his professional reputation and a tenured position at the Harvard School of Mathematics.  Jackson worked out the potential for time singularities and with the resources at his disposal, managed to detect the residual effects of several time singularities in the past.  He understood what this kind of ripple was, the scar of a past time paradox, a virtual echo of a reality that had been, but was now gone.  If these had happened in the past, it implied that because of his discovery, his own existence was already on tenuous ground.  
He began a quiet, but ruthless policy of destroying the professional chances of anyone in his field whose work was heading in the direction of time travel.  He died of old age, well respected in his field, with only hints surviving of the dark side of his work.  
But survive it did, in the journals of one of his victims, an Edgar Lynn Dewar.  His grandson, Horace Fielding, son of Barbara Dewar, discovered the journals of his grandfather after that bitter old man died of alcoholism.  Working back from his grandfather's notes, and using the work of the despised eminence Jackson, Horace was the first man to create a time machine.  He went back 95 years and poisoned young Vincent the day before he was to graduate from high school.  
Barely had the poison begun to dissolve in the glass when Horace vanished into a time singularity.  On a brighter note,  Edgar Lynn Dewar had a long and fruitful life working in astrophysics.  Of his five children, there was no daughter Barbara.
###
The last known invention of the time machine was by Hu Lin in 2228.  Space-time metrics had advanced sufficiently that the dangers of time singularities were instantly obvious, and the Lin family successfully developed the time travel technology for five generations, using exhaustively pre-calculated, miniscule changes in the past to advance the Lin family's fortune and prestige.  
It was the youngest son of the Lin heritage who circumvented the protocols.  Devistated by the loss of his wife to an unpredicted effect of her genetic enhancements, he sent 23rd century knowledge of genetics back to a researcher in 2078.  
This radical advance of genetics and nano-biology completely derailed the advance of physics in the late 21st century, as the suddenly lengthened lifespans and enormous expansion of available resources turned the human collective to the neo-life sciences and its accompanying philosophical shift.  The time singularity this time swallowed up not only the Lin family history, but also all of the advanced study of space and time.  For all of time the human race never discovered the relatively obvious technology of time travel.
###
Of course, humans weren't the only intelligent life in the universe.  We might make that claim, if we can only avoid getting our tails caught in our own time singularity.  I urge you, members of the Chorus: Stop development now!  If we don't, then happenstance or tomorrow's eggs will do it for us.  A million triumphs fall to one mistake.
End of decrypted 802 time singularity stream

Friday, December 23, 2011

Far Exile - Part 6 of 6

© 2009 by Henry Melton


“Smile for the people, Angel.  Let them know everything will be okay.”  Sam and Alanda sat at a very visible table in the dining area.
She smiled, but her heart wasn’t in it.  “Samuel.  Are you sure?”
He leaned back with a cigarette dangling in his fingers.  “I’m so sure, I’m starting to wonder what tobacco will taste like after all these menthol puffs.”
He nodded toward the near table where a man and two women were struggling to avoid staring.  After three days, Flick had neither confirmed his finding, nor denied it.
“Don’t you think we owe people a little peace of mind?”
She shook her head, whispering, “But what if Flick’s images are correct?”
He cocked his head.  “Then these people will spend their last few days in blissful ignorance.  If the asteroid were coming, there’s nothing they could do about it anyway.
“But I am right.  Flick faked the images for some reason.”
“Flick would never do anything like that.  You keep thinking of it as a man.  Flick is a machine.  It never lies.  The world would never put its fate in the hands of a dishonest caretaker.”
Sam merely smiled.  Sam’s version that she had stepped out of the tower in the dark and tripped on a branch was immediately confirmed by Flick.  The machine would gladly lie to keep from distressing one of his charges.
“If I weren’t heading back to San Francisco as soon as the asteroid deadline passes, I’d give you a good argument.  As it is, I can’t stay and you can’t go with me.  Your place is here.  You need to take your Grand Tour, do a little growing up, and be a good Elder.”
She looked down at her bowl.  “I wish that you could stay.”
He shook his head.  “This is no place for me.”  He waved his hand.  “No tobacco.  No crime.  And an dictator so powerful I’m surprised I’m still alive.  Once the asteroid fails to appear, I just hope your Flick is as honest as you say he is.”
The entire population of the Ninth City was at the western windows on the day the asteroid was due to hit.  Flick’s final calculations put the impact point within twenty miles.
Sam lounged in one of the window chairs, puffing the last of his menthol cigarettes.  “See anything yet?”
Griditch shook his head.
“You need to lighten up, Griddy.”
“Samuel, I fail to see anything to lighten my spirit.  If you are wrong, I die.  If you are right, then Flick is in error—and that may be the worse of the options.”
“You don’t need to worry.  I’m sure Flick will take care of it.”  His smile, which had graced his face all morning, dropped for a moment.
Alanda sighed.  “I wanted to believe you, Samuel, but I couldn’t.  Not until a few minutes ago.”
“Oh, what changed your mind?”
She smiled, “The asteroid should be close enough to see without a telescope, and even where it is night, no one is reporting a sighting.”
“Good girl.  Trust your eyes.  Griddy, how’s the time coming.”
“Almost ... almost ... Now!”
The sound of millions of voices shook the walls.  No impact.  Their lives would continue.
“Flick?  Oh Flick?  Can you hear me?”
The image appeared beside him.  “Yes, Samuel.”
“I think it’s time to pay up.”
The massed voices, still loud, became puzzled.  Some were angry.
Flick nodded.  “The sooner the better.  You are a disruptive force.”
Sam stood and dismissed his chair back into the ground.  The party of four, one of which was an illusion, headed toward the transport.  Several other parties, who were heading home after the non-appearance, stopped in their tracks to allow the dignitaries first access.
Sam led the way, his face in a forced smile.  “Where are we heading?”
Flick said, “The time travel station is close by.”
“And my pay?”
The transport door closed behind them, and a map appeared.
“Samuel, in the years just after your time, a metal called uranium will become very valuable.  Marked on this map are the top three locations where uranium ore was found.  You need to memorize their locations and, to the limits of your ability, purchase these lands while their worth is still unknown.”
Sam peered at the map closely.  “I wish you had the roads marked.”
Alanda looked over his shoulder.  “Can you memorize that?”
He shrugged.  “Well enough.  In my line of work, a good memory is gold.”
Quickly, they arrived. 
Sam gave Alanda a kiss, and before she could say anything, he strode quickly through the door.
“Flick.  Where is this?  Why is it dark?”
“This is the time travel chamber.  You will be home shortly.  I just wanted to say one thing.  You were right about the asteroid, but wrong about my part in it.  I believed my data as much as any of my people did.  I had no reason to distrust my inputs.
“But now it appears that there are forces at work attempting to distort my perceptions of reality.”
“Like you distort everyone else’s?”
“I believe you understand why that is necessary.  
“In any case, your visit here has been very informative, and I wish it were possible for you to stay longer.  You might be very helpful in helping me locate the forces acting against me.”
“Fat chance.  I’d more likely join them.”
“Possibly.  But you won’t have that option.”
“You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?”
“That isn’t necessary.”
The small chamber around Sam’s artificial body hummed slightly.  His eyes went unfocussed.  The supports that grew out of the wall quickly took up his weight as his body collapsed.  His body was slipped into a storage chamber and filled with a preservative solution.
The temperature began to drop rapidly.
-----------------------------------------------------
END SIMULATION
-----------------------------------------------------
An old hand, shaking from the degeneration of muscle and nerves, the skin spotted from near-cancerous growth, tapped the screen.
“Griditch!  Why did you halt the simulation?”  Her voice was hoarse from a throat ravaged by time.  Like all of them in the chamber, Alanda’s body had stopped responding to the regeneration treatments.
“There’s nothing more to be learned.  The FLC is defective, as we suspected.”
“I wanted to see more!”
Boden, the Spokesman of Elders, spoke gently to the grand old lady of the chamber.  “Lady Alanda, we all enjoyed seeing the younger vigorous versions of ourselves.  But that youngster wasn’t you.  She may not ever be you unless we find a way around the FLC defect.
“We have to make a decision.  The populace is clamoring for us to activate the immortal bodies.  Many are dying as we speak.  Some of us...some of us in this chamber will not survive the delay required to engineer a new FLC.
“Do we proceed with the existing FLC, or try again?  Dummont?”
The voice was mechanical, for Dummont had lost the power of speech two hundred years earlier.
“This FLC did well.  For thousands of years, the populace was stable and happy.  Even when we added the asteroid test, the FLC showed great creativity in getting the world past that trial.”
Griditch spoke, “I disagree.  Had we simulated a real asteroid, rather than a sensor ghost, the world would have died.”
“Possibly.  Perhaps if the FLC’s fictional man from the past were faced with the reality of the asteroid, he would have come through with a creative solution to that problem, just as he solved the sensor ghost problem.”
“That still ignores the real problem.  The FLC, in its absolute power, gradually muted everyone’s personality, feeding a false reality to keep the populace in line.  In my case, my ability to sculpt was dimmed to extinction as too disruptive to the populace.
“Do I really want eternal life as an FLC controlled manikin, with my real personality extinguished?”
“But do you want to die tomorrow, either?”
Boden interrupted.  “Elders, we have heard this argument many times before.  Unfortunately, we have a decision to make.”
Dummont was firm.  “We must adopt the immortal bodies now, or we won’t be here to correct the problems.”
Griditch disagreed.  “Once the FLC controls our personalities, we will make no more decisions.”
Boden nodded, “It is a shame that all must change, or none.  Every simulation of a split populace, mortal and immortal, leads quickly to war.  It would be useful to have a guardian over our caretaker, to keep it honest.”
Lady Alanda’s voice was clear in the chamber.
“We could ask Samuel.”
“Samuel?  Can you hear me?”
Sam blinked and struggled to his feet.  Two very old people in mechanical chairs faced him.
“What’s going on here?  Who are you people?”
“I am Griditch.”
“And I...” she coughed raggedly.  “I am Alanda.”
Sam grit his teeth.  “What did Flick do to you?”
“Calm down, Samuel.”  Griditch gestured with his hand.  “Have a seat.  I need to explain some things to you.”
Sam looked at them closely.  Alanda’s pale blue eyes, shiny in a wrinkled, but familiar face, finally convinced him.
He sat.  “Okay, but it had better be good.”
Sam pursed his mouth, as if he had eaten something sour.  “So, I never existed?”
“Correct.  Time travel is impossible.  All that is left from the Twentieth Century are a few classic novels and a couple of history books.  The simulated Flick created a pre-compiled personality based on the character of a detective novel which he installed in a customized artificial body.  That and the content of the history books were all that you needed.”
“But I can remember my friends, my office ... I can remember the case I was on.”
“Not really, they were all phantoms.  When you try to recall anything, the memories are created from history modeling.  I suggest that for now they are just an exercise in futility.  The only thing you really have is your personality.”
Sam looked at Alanda again.  “And the time I spent in the future is false too?”
Griditch nodded.  “A simulation of a time when the FLC has been in control for thousands of years.  The Griditch you spoke with was not me, but a simulation of how I might become.”
Alanda spoke.  “And I’m not your Alanda.  I’m the old hag D’sonna hated so much.”
“And you were just a simulation also.  This body you now wear was created just a few hours ago.  We pulled your pattern from the instant when Flick deactivated you.”
Sam nodded, “When he betrayed me.  I expected that.”
He looked at the two of them.  “I didn’t expect to wake up again like this.  What do you need?  And what are you willing to pay?”
Alanda laughed, although it sounded more like a croak.  “I see what my ... ‘daughter’, liked so much about you.”
Griditch adjusted his chair, raising his torso.  “We do have a problem.”
Sam grilled trout while watching the bright green tower grow slowly out of the mountainside.  Very soon now, with his customized body and brain, he would be the only person who could live outdoors, the only person who didn’t need Flick to live.  He intended to take full advantage of that.
He had reviewed the simulation.  Flick would be a benevolent dictator for thousands of years yet, only becoming deceptive in reaction to a human race that never really learned to behave itself.  There was a lot he had to learn, but he knew what to look for, and when to act.  And when that time came, he had the keys that would control Flick.
“You’ve got your guard dog,” he had told Griditch.  “But there’s no one to watch me.  Are you sure you trust me that far?”
Griditch had frowned, “Not really, but I have no choice.”
Alanda had shushed her fellow Elder. “I trust you, Samuel.  Are you sure you want to vanish so early?”
“It’s best this way.  You fixed it, you say, so Flick’ll never notice I’m different.  But I was raised more cautious than that.  In a billion people, everyone gossips about the Elders—and the people that hang around them.  I need to drop out of sight for a while.”
Sam pulled the trout out of the fire and gingerly pinched off some of the meat.  The splashes of the brook and the trees rustling overhead were his alone.
“And I’ll be watching you too, Angel.  I’ll wait for you, no matter how long it takes.”
-end-

Wednesday, December 21, 2011

Far Exile - Part 5 of 6

© 2009 by Henry Melton


Sam’s sketch had been crude, once he had mastered the idea of drawing on one Flick’s images, but the finished telescope was a work of art.  Griditch was unable to create anything that wasn’t beautiful.
Sam lifted his fingers from what appeared to be a finely polished brass tube, like a sea captain might have used.  There were no fingerprints.  He rubbed his nose and touched the surface again.  Still no fingerprint.
“This looks like brass, but it’s too light weight, and it stays shiny.”
Alanda nodded absently.  “Griditch wouldn’t use anything that would offend the eye.”
The two of them were waiting for the twilight to fade.
“May I take a look through the telescope?” she asked.
Sam handed it over.  She held it clumsily, trying to focus on the nearest tower.  “It is hard to see.  Everything moves.”
“Yeah.  We’ll need a tripod—something to support the weight of the scope.”
“Oh.”  She nodded.  She stepped back and one of the cushioned chairs rose up from the floor before her.  She rested the tube on the backrest.  “That’s much better.”
Sam watched, bemused, as she reported, “I can even see the people over there!”  She moved the scope back and forth, but always aimed at the nearest tower.
Her face flushed, she timidly handed it back to him.  “Sorry.  I wanted to go visit there for years.  I never got around to it.”  Her lips compressed.  “I thought I had all the time in the world.”
A couple of other people had stopped nearby to watch them.  Sam looked their way, and they hurried off.
“What’s special about the silver tower?”
“The Eighth City?  Nothing in particular.”  She eyes drifted away for a second.  “The population is nearly the same.  They have a higher percentage of oriental genotypes.  They have over twenty Buddhist temples, whereas there is only one here in the Ninth City.”  She shrugged.  “Each city is a little different.  I had thought to take the Grand Tour someday—visit each of the Hundred Cities.  Spend a year or so at each of them.  An Elder should really have that kind of experience, don’t you think?”
Sam looked at her clear, unlined face, her simple smile.  Her honest pale blue eyes were watching him.
“Angel, how old are you?”
She flushed.  “Samuel, I don’t really know.  Not in years of life.  Some things are off limits even to me.  It has been thirty years since my regression.  Those are all the memories I have.”
Flick appeared beside them.  “Samuel.  Twilight should be over in another minute.  You should be able to see the asteroid with your telescope now.”
Sam snarled, “Go away.”  Flick disappeared.
He took Alanda’s hand.  “Angel, what is regression?”
Another voice answered.  D’sonna walked up to them.
“Regression is when a person decides to die, but is too timid to go through with it.”
Alanda’s face went pale.  The older woman’s face was stern.
“Alanda, the real Alanda, was ancient beyond knowing.  She had been everywhere, seen everything, and was tired of life.  I was to have been her replacement among the Elders.
“Instead, she opted for regression.  Flick erased all her memories and most of her personality.  She was little more than an infant in that old hag’s body.  Griditch took care of her, but she’s still no more than a child.
“She’s the biggest joke of the Ninth City.  She’s the youngest of us all, and our esteemed Elder.”
Alanda’s eyes were wet.  She hung her head and turned to go.  Sam grabbed her arm.  “Stay put, Angel.”
D’sonna stood tall, her nostrils wide, her eyes full of hatred.
Sam laughed.  It shook her.
“D’sonna, in a whole world of sheep, you’re the only one acting like a wolf.  No one I’ve seen has been rude.  Not until today.
“Nothing you say shocks me, of course.  I’ve seen worse every day of my life.  But you’re one of these people.”
He nodded toward Alanda, still captive in his grip.  “See this little one.  It even hurts her, when I’m talking straight to you.  And according to you, she’s an innocent in your battle with Flick.
“Why’d you turn into a bitch and go for her throat?”
D’sonna’s chin quivered a little.  Sam could see she wasn’t any more immune to harsh words than any of them.
Her voice wasn’t as steady either.  “We’re all going to die, aren’t we?  When you’re as old as I am, you learn to be polite, because everything you say will come back to haunt you.  But that’s all past now, isn’t it?  You said there was nothing you could do to make a difference.”
Sam smiled like a wolf.  “That’s what I said then.  Perhaps things have changed.  Of course, if you’d rather spend your last days making your enemies suffer.  She’s right here.  Do your worst.”
He pushed Alanda forward to face D’sonna.  Genuine fright filled the girl’s eyes.  Her persecutor looked from her to Sam’s grin, and then her bluster faded.  She turned sharply away and stalked off.
Sam watched her go.
“Samuel?  My arm.”
He released his grip.  He took her chin in one hand and wiped away her tears with one of her sleeve scarves.  “Now there, Angel.  It’s better to face your enemies than run away.  She’s done her worst now.”
Alanda rubbed her arm.  “I don’t know who was worse, her or you.”
He nodded.  “That’s the spirit.  Tell me off.  Tell her off if she comes back.”  He looked thoughtful.  “Alanda, ask Flick.  How long ago was the last murder committed?”
Flick appeared in person.  “That’s not necessary.  You are right, Samuel.  People don’t murder each other.  Not anymore.  Not for many thousands of years.”
“But the spirit is there,” Sam said.  “I could see it in her eyes.  How many people choose to die or ‘regress’ after being badgered into it by their enemies?”
Flick hesitated.  “I cannot make a reasonable assessment.”
Sam waved him off.  “It doesn’t matter.
“But now that you’re here.  Give me a display of that star field.  And darken this hallway.  I want to see if I can find that asteroid myself.”
The long hallway went dark.  Alanda took his arm in her hand.  “It’s okay, Angel.  There’s no need to be afraid of the dark.”
He propped the telescope on the chair back, and with coaching by the glowing image of Flick, he located the bright pattern of stars that surrounded the asteroid’s position.
Sam stared intently into the eyepiece, and then checked his position against the projected star field again.
Alanda whispered.  “Can you find it, Samuel?”
“Hmm.”  He looked up from the telescope, frowning.
“Flick.  Looking through this glass is still too limiting.  I need to go outside.”
The image looked offended.  “Nonsense, Samuel.  There should be no appreciable front surface reflection, and the glass is perfectly transparent.”
Sam picked up the scope and slapped the chair.  After a second.  It started to retract into the floor.
“You picked me because you couldn’t predict what a Twentieth Century man might want to do.  Well, this is it.  I need to take this telescope outside under the stars and look for myself.  If you can’t help me do one simple thing, then I have to ask, what’re you hiding?”
Alanda tugged at his sleeve.  “Samuel.  You can’t go outside!  It would hurt the plants.”
He shook her free.  “Be sensible!  How many plants will die if that asteroid hits?  If I can stop it by going outside, isn’t it worth that risk?”
The girl was clearly not listening.  Sam turned to Flick.  “Well, are you going to show me the door to the outside, or aren’t you?”
“It is a useless exercise.”
Sam just faced him, his fingers tapping on the shiny tube.  A grin was slowly edging up at the corners of his mouth.
Flick shook his head.  “Okay.  I’ll do it.  But there’s no sense in your actions.”
Across the way, a transport door opened up.  Sam grabbed Alanda’s arm and headed for the opening.
“Samuel?  I can’t go outside.”
“That’s okay, Precious.  Just stay with me for as long as you can.  That’s all I ask.”
Hesitantly, she agreed.
The transport dropped away, and Sam could feel her shivering next to him as they traveled on and on.
Finally, he felt the chamber come to a stop.
Flick appeared.  “Go through the narrow hallway and stop at the end.”
Alanda had to be urged to take the first step.  They walked together until the hallway ended at a closed double-door.
Suddenly another doorway closed behind them.
“Hey!” protested, Sam.
Flick’s voice came from somewhere above them.  “Don’t be alarmed.  This is just an airlock to keep the outside air from mixing with the inside air.”
The double-door parted, and Alanda shrank back as far away as she could.
Sam whispered, “It’s okay, Angel.”  He stepped outside.
Trees had grown up next to the wall of the city tower.  Familiar scents, pine and sweetgum, filled the air.  Even in the dark, Sam could see their branches overhead and see the massive trunks.  The ground was mossy and spongy, as if no step had trod this way since the dawn of time.
Half the sky was blocked by the tower.  Sam looked up and shook his head.  “The Empire State Building ain’t the champion anymore.”
Alanda’s face, lit by the interior lights was staring out into the darkness.  “Samuel?”
“It’s fine, Angel.  I’ve got to move a little farther to find an open place to see the stars.  You just stay put.”
He found the Big Dipper and headed roughly north for a few hundred paces.  A deer trail made the going easier.
“Flick?  Can you hear me?”
There was no answer.  Sam smiled.
He found the pattern of stars.  Perhaps it was a constellation he had seen back in his own time, but he had never memorized them.  A large rock gave him a place to steady the scope.  He looked, and then checked his position in the sky to look again.  He nodded to himself and pulled out a cigarette.  He barely coughed before turning back along the trail.
“Samuel!”  Halfway back, it was Alanda’s voice.  He hurried.
In the darkness, he stumbled over her body.  She was sprawled across the roots of a tree still in sight of the door.
“Angel?”  She was warm, but totally limp.  He felt for a pulse, but gave it no more time when he couldn’t feel it.
“Flick!  Something’s wrong with Alanda.”  He carried her the few feet into the hallway.  The lights showed her eyes wide open, but unfocussed.
The machine’s voice came from the ceiling.  “Did she go outside?”
“Yes!  Do something.  Get a doctor here.”
“It is okay Samuel.  She will recover as soon as I send her an awake signal.”
“She isn’t breathing, and I can’t find her pulse.”
“That is normal.”
Sam got to his feet and faced the voice.  “What are you talking about?  What did you do to her?”
“I did nothing.  I keep her alive.  It is you who enticed her outside where she can’t live.”
“Explain yourself.  But if you can help her.  Do it!”
“It will take about five minutes for her to wake back up.  She will be confused.
“Samuel.  My people are not like you.  In the past, they gave up their natural bodies for ones that could last.  This is not something I did to them.  It was their choice.  I was created as a caretaker for them.  The Hundred Cities are their world, and they cannot exist outside.  The memories of thousands of years cannot be contained in a natural brain.
“When Alanda walked outside the skin of the tower, her mind quickly lost its regulation and her body collapsed.  If she hadn’t been returned inside, I would have been unable to revive her.”
Sam checked her again.  She was breathing softly.  He felt for a pulse and was rewarded with a beat.
“Samuel,” asked Flick.  “Are you done with your outside experiment, now?  Can we get back to the real problem?  Do you have any idea of how to avert the asteroid?”
Sam sneered.  “Of course!  There never was any asteroid, and you know it.  This is just some kind of sick game of yours.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I looked up at the stars with my own eyes, and it wasn’t there.  Oh, it’s there in all your maps and images, but it isn’t there in reality.  You put it there.
“You are mistaken.  My images are a synthesis of many instruments much more powerful than your telescope.  They all report the asteroid.”
Sam taunted, “Yes, but I have my two eyes.  You can’t fool me.  There is no asteroid.”
Alanda stirred.  He put his hand under her head.  “Are you okay, Precious?”
“Samuel?  What’s happening?”
The outer door slammed shut.  Sam grimaced, but concentrated on getting Alanda to her feet.
“Nothing.  It’s all right.  Let’s get you back home.”

Monday, December 19, 2011

Far Exile - Part 4 of 6

© 2009 by Henry Melton


“Samuel!”  Alanda’s voice turned his head.  She also attracted the attention of dozens of other people in the wide-open atrium where Flick had led him, and then vanished.
It was an indoor park, with trees and grass and a red flagstone path that wound past fountains and mirrored pools.  Sunlight was directed into the expanse from some trick of the architecture.
Sam had been watching the people stroll and splash.
Alanda sat down on the bench beside him.  “Flick told me you were here.  You’re going to help us?”
Sam looked her over.  “You look dressed for tennis, except for those scarves coming out of your sleeves.  Very nice.”
She beamed.  “You like it?  What’s tennis?”
He just shook his head.  “Luckily, I’ll be going home soon.  I just can’t get used to this.”  Across the nearest pool, a muscular man climbed to the top of what looked to be a stone cliff and executed a complicated dive.
She followed his gaze.  “What’s wrong?”
Sam reached for his pocket again.  “Do you people know what a swimsuit is?”
She shook her head.  “No.  Oh, look what I’ve got for you!”  She reached into her pocket and produced a fat cylinder as large as her fist.  “A present.”
He took it and opened the lid.  His heart hammered when he took out one of the thin paper wrapped sticks.
“I know it’s not a real cigarette, but I did some research in the literature archives and I found reference to a menthol cigarette.”
His fingers wrapped around it possessively.  He rolled it between thumb and forefinger, and sighed.  A sniff confirmed the chemical scent.
Alanda explained.  “We have menthol, so I made up a batch of menthol inhalers.”
He slipped it between his lips and pulled in a potent drag that made his tongue tingle.  He coughed.  She looked alarmed.
“It’s okay, Angel.”  He took the package and flattened it, until it would fit into his coat pocket.  “It will help.”
“Do you want to set it on fire?  I made sure the inhaler would burn with no toxic byproducts.”
He reached his arm around her shoulder and gave her a hug.  “No, Precious.  That wouldn’t work, but just having this dangling from my lips is the best thing that’s happened to me all day.”
She leaned back and pulled in the scent of the blooming trees.  “I like this place.  I’m glad you came here.”
Sam took the cigarette from his lips and played with it in his hand.  “It’s a nice enough park.  I’d rather see what the forest outside looks like.”
Alanda shivered and crossed her arms to hold her shoulders.  “Don’t even think that, Samuel.  People don’t go outside.”
He frowned.  Staring back at the white tube in his hands, he said, “During the Great War, I was with the AEF, the American Expeditionary Force, in France under Pershing.  The only pleasant memories I have of those days were in the forests.  The trees there were thick, taller than these, and so close together that you couldn’t see the sky above.”
Alanda’s face had gone ghastly white; her eyes were wide and fearful.
Sam put his fake cigarette back in his mouth and stood up, bringing her upright with him.
“Come on, Angel.  Let’s go find out what we can about this asteroid.”  He force-marched her to the quickest exit.  Once she was enclosed inside the soothing hallways, her smile returned and she began to relax.
“Let’s go to Griditch’s workshop.  He has all the information there.”  She pointed to the walls where the lines changed.  “Here’s transport.”
Sam grimaced as the second of his menthol cigarettes fell apart in his hands.  He reached into his pocket and extracted another.  Automatically, he inhaled, and winced.
Alanda laughed.  “I’m sorry.  Your expression is so funny.”
He took the tube from his mouth and glared at it, before sticking it back between his lips.  “A habit of a lifetime.  It’d taste like arsenic and I’d still be sucking at it.”
He nodded at the image she had conjured up from what appeared to be a solid slab of marble.  “How’s your model coming?”
“It is almost done.  Come see.”
He sat down next to her on the bench.  She pointed.
“Here is where the asteroid was first detected.  It came in from far beyond the planets.  Flick tracked it for decades before calling it to the attention of the Elders.  We studied it, but there was nothing we could do that Flick had not already considered.”
Sam looked over the diagram of the solar system.  There were considerably more planets that he remembered from school.  And there were not just one asteroid belt, but four.  At least she had labeled the planets in old familiar English.
The rogue asteroid coming in from far outside the system indeed appeared to be headed straight for Earth.
Sam stood up and walked around the room, looking at the rich furnishings, often stone inlaid with metal.  The closest one was an eight-foot tall totem pole, with perfectly formed human heads crafted in gold.  The place was hardly a science lab.
“Nice sculpture.”
“Yes.  Isn’t it?  Those are all made by Griditch.  This is his work area.”
“He’s a sculptor?”  
“He used to be.  With the asteroid impact so close, he’s spending most of his time conferring with the Elders of other cities, trying to keep the people from panicking.  It’s been hectic.”
Sam frowned.  “Everyone knows about it?”
“Of course.”
“Everyone I’ve seen has been placid, going about their business.”
Alanda chuckled.  “That’s not what I’m seeing!  Didn’t you see how people looked at you in the park?  Probably half the population of the planet is gossiping about D’sonna taking you away the first night.  She’s been trying to become an Elder for a very long time.  I don’t think she’ll ever forgive me.”
Sam turned, “Forgive you, for what?”
She shrugged.  “For still being an Elder.”
“Still?”
“Yes, after my regression.”
Sam held up his hands.  “Angel, you’ve lost me.  Flick may think he’s decoded Twentieth Century English, but believe me, there’s some gaps.  What’s ‘regression’?”
Alanda looked down at her hands, and a blush crept over her cheeks.  “It’s not something I like to talk about.”
“You brought it up, Precious.”
She sighed.  “I guess you should know.  Sam, maybe you’ve noticed, I look a little younger than anyone else.”
He nodded.  “I wondered about that.  Everyone I’ve seen has looked mid-twenties to mid-fifties, all healthy, of course.  But there’s no old people, and no children.
“Flick may have been hiding them away from me...”
Alanda shook her head, “No, Samuel.  No one is hiding.  The reason people look that age has nothing to do with how old people actually are.  What you just said—about people looking ‘mid-twenties’—that’s just nonsense words to me.  How a person looks is just an expression, like a smile or a frown.”
He pulled out another cigarette from his pocket.  When he realized he had two, he stuffed the new one behind his ear.
“Let me get this straight.  You can grow old and wrinkled, or young and fresh, just at will?”
She laughed, “Oh, no Samuel.  It’s just that, over time, a person’s body changes.  I feel young, so my body grew that way.  No one could possibly tell a person’s age from their appearance.”
“Excuse me.”  Flick appeared in the room with them.  Alanda jerked and put her hand to her mouth.  
Sam faced the illusion and grumbled.  “What do you want?”
Flick nodded his direction.  “Griditch is returning from his meeting.  I thought it would only be polite to inform you.”
“Fine.  Go away.”  Sam dismissed him with a wave of his hand.  Flick gave one nod to Alanda and did as he was told.
Sam turned to her.  “Angel, it’s important, and we don’t have much time.  You were startled when Flick appeared.  Why?”
She waved her hand.  “I’ve never seen him appear like that.”
“But you’re an Elder.  You talk to Flick.”
“Right.  But it has always been a voice in my head.  Never an image before.  It must be something he is doing for you.”
Just then, the wall opened, and Griditch strolled in.  He nodded.  “Hello, Samuel.  Alanda.”  He pointed to the model of the solar system.  “Have you made any progress?”
“I’ve got the idea now.”  Sam nodded at the array of images that Griditch had quickly brought up.  He pointed at the star field.  “Did you get that from a telescope?”
The man looked puzzled.  “No, I asked Flick for the representation.”  He pointed to a dot of light on the screen.  “You can see how the asteroid has changed position from last night ... to what it is now.”  The dot shifted visibly.
Sam frowned.  “How can you see the stars in the daylight?”
Griditch shrugged.  “Flick can see them.”
“So this isn’t from a telescope?  How can you be sure what you’re seeing?  It seems to me that you’ve got the whole world upset over a little dot of light.
“Have you seen it yourself?”
Alanda asked, “What do you mean, Samuel?  We can all see it, right here in front of us.”
Sam shook his head.  “That’s not what I mean.  Can you go outside and see it with your own two eyes?”
Both of them were visibly shocked.  But Griditch shook it off.  “Ah, no.  Of course, it is impossible go outside, but even through the windows, it is still much too small to see.  It is only through Flick’s instruments that it is visible like this.  Maybe in the last few hours, it could be seen directly, but not now.”
Sam took another distasteful puff of his cigarette.  “Do you guys even have a telescope?”
They looked at each other.  Griditch said, “No.  I think I understand what you are asking for.  It’s a visual amplification apparatus of some kind?”
Sam shook his head.  “It’s not some kind of fancy gadget.  I’ve used binoculars and spotting scopes in the war.  There’s nothing to them.  Just a couple of glass lenses, like that over there, and a tube.”
Griditch and Alanda looked at the sculpture he indicated.  It was a complicated array of glass and stone that created the image of a yellow flower when looked at from the proper angle.
“You bend the light?” asked Griditch.
“Yeah.  Can you build me one?”
Alanda laughed, “Griditch is the finest sculptor in the world.  He could build anything.”
The sculptor was muttering.  “It’s been a long, long time since I’ve done anything.  But yes, if you can give me the details.  I have all the equipment right here.”