Chapter 9
Markman milled around the
sensesuit lab sipping coffee from a
white Styrofoam cup. He went to an
open disposal container nearby,
dropped his empty cup into it and
watched it dematerialize before it hit
the bottom. It was the third time he
had done so just to see it happen. He
looked around the room expecting
someone to scold him for wasting
coffee cups, but was ignored
completely. Cassiopia sat at the
sensesuit computer control station
across the room, keeping herself busy
while waiting impatiently for John Paul
to return from his office. As Markman
secretly admired the beauty of
Cassiopia, John Paul appeared through
the electronic curtain and went to her.
Markman hurried over to hear.
“Cassiopia, let’s move over to the
meeting table,” he said.
Cassiopia looked up and rose
without speaking. The three went to
the round table and took their usual
seats.
John Paul began. “The net is
tightening. Your father’s location is still
unknown, but it is expected that a
specific location or least a general area
will be derived sometime tomorrow.
When that happens, we will be
contacted and will participate in the
plan to contain that area. The primary
basis of any plan will be the safety of
your father. These kinds of extractions
can sometimes be extremely complex.
It is likely one or both of you might be
directly involved since your presence
will allow us a wider latitude in the
rules that apply.”
Cassiopia interrupted. “There’s
nothing we can do now? We have to
just sit and wait?”
John Paul placed a hand on the
table near Cassiopia. “I’m sure you will
agree, there are times when waiting is
by far the safest, best option. Let me
suggest, we are on the verge of
accessing the Crillian library records.
The threat from the Salantians remains
just as real and just as dangerous as it
was before the unfortunate abduction
of your father. I put it to you, we
should hold our emotions at bay for the
time being, and proceed with our
research inside the sensesuit computer.
That would be the most beneficial use
of the time we have. Can you focus,
Cassiopia?”
Cassiopia’s expression went
through a storyboard of changes, from
irritation, to dismay, to anger, and
finally frustration. She looked over at
Markman. He nodded in agreement.
She sat back and stared for a
thoughtful moment at John Paul. “I
have your word that the instant you
learn anything, you will tell me
immediately?”
“You have my word,” said John
Paul.
Cassiopia relaxed. She suddenly
realized she trusted the man though
she had only known him a short time.
“Yes. I can focus.”
“How about your injuries, your
knees and shoulder?”
“I have had worse. What about the
others in that accident, John Paul? Was
anyone killed?”
“I am relieved to say no one was
killed by a driver too elderly to be
driving. There were some serious
injuries, but none debilitating and no
one incapacitated. If the woman’s car
had been going in any other direction,
there likely would have been deaths.
Ironically, the only individual who could
not be killed took the brunt of it.”
“And you’re sure this was not
some kind of set up like the train?”
asked Markman.
“A sheer coincidence, which
despite the trauma to the victims, was
actually a lucky break for us. I can’t
say when we would have detected
Professor Cassell’s duplicate had that
terrible event not happened.”
The three sat silently sharing a
moment of understanding.
“How about you, Scott? Enough
clarity to put that suit back on and
revisit Aurora?” asked John Paul.
“No problem,” replied Markman.
He sat back and locked his hands
behind his head. “After all, I’m an
Overlord!”
John Paul did not laugh. Instead,
he gave Markman a questioning stare,
wondering if there was really enough
discipline in the man to do the job. He
decided frivolity was Markman’s cover
for apprehension and put his concern
aside. ”We need to again briefly review
your previous experience with the
Salantians. The information they gave
to Cassiopia during her captivity in
those caves provides the foundation we
need for our library records search.”
“John Paul, is there no way into
those library records from outside? Is it
really necessary to enter the
computer’s domain to get to them?”
asked Cassiopia.
“It is necessary, Cassiopia. Like
any complex program, several criteria
are required to gain access to the file
path. In this case, Scott’s DNA
signature is a part of that criteria, and
that signature must be a current, up to
the minute input. An individual’s bio-
signature evolves from minute to
minute. It is like a massive, ever-
changing code. This system is that
sophisticated.”
Markman nodded, pretending to
understand. Cassiopia rested her chin
in her hand and sat in thought.
“The Salantian society resembles
one very much like a colony of ants,
only on a much more evolved level.”
“I’m not so sure that’s really true,”
offered Markman. “I can think of a lot
more beneficial characteristics in ants
than I can in those creatures.”
“Point taken,” replied John Paul.
“In any case, the Salantian invaders,
after stealing vortport technology from
some more advanced race, began
invading and colonizing other worlds.
When you get inside the sensesuit
computer, your records search should
begin with the attack of Salantian
soldiers on Crillia. Next, you should
concentrate on anything available on
the Salantian race itself. Those are the
things we need to begin looking into.
Do either of you have any thoughts to
add?”
“From what I’ve seen of Crillia so
far, it would have been a terrible thing
if the Crillian race was completely
destroyed by the Salantians. There is a
lot to admire about them. Their cities
are beautiful. They do not seem warlike
at all,” said Markman.
“It is a chilling thought,” added
Cassiopia. “The complete annihilation
of a beautiful culture.”
John Paul added, “And that brings
us to something of a mystery, my
friends. What we know of Crillia and
the Aurora City from the few glimpses
we’ve had of it, suggest that it is a
healthy, thriving civilization. Yet
Cassiopia was previously told by her
Salantian captors that the Crillians had
been all but wiped out. Our research on
the sensesuit computer suggests that
its programs remain synchronized with
the actual places they portray,
although how they do that is beyond
anything we’ve ever seen. Because of
that synchronicity, we would expect
Crillia to look like a planet devastated
from a Salantian invasion, but it is not.
That is a contradiction we do not
understand.”
Cassiopia said, “It could simply be
that the sensesuit computer does not
contain records of the Crillian invasion,
so it’s showing us Crillia as it was
before the invasion.”
“True, but I sincerely hope that is
not the case,” replied John Paul. “We
know the Salantians were operating
and using the sensesuit computer, but
if no Crillian invasion records exist, we
may have a very long search ahead of
us to find any useful information about
them.”
Markman asked, “John Paul,
something that’s always bugged me.
Are we absolutely sure that the Crillia
we’re visiting is really a simulation and
not some kind of real place?”
“Is that what your instincts are
trying to tell you, Scott? You’re the
only one that’s actually been in there.
Are you sensing real life from the
people you meet?”
“I can’t tell that they are not real.”
“What you are suggesting is that
entry into the sensesuit computer could
actually be passage through a
singularity-type of doorway to another
world. But, your friend Trill has
described himself as a duplicate of an
actual person. He considers himself a
subroutine, not a biological creature.”
“Yes. So my next question would
be, can a computer program of a
person become so complicated that it
actually becomes alive? Those people
inside that thing fear for their lives
when threatened. And, Trill described
his life as taking place inside an egg
that can never be shut down.”
John Paul tapped one finger
against his lips and stared at Markman
thoughtfully. “Your questions deserve
thought, Scott. I do not know the
answer. Perhaps we will know before
we are done.”
Markman sat back and shook his
head in agreement. “So I think I’ll
begin my search at the Terra Nova
Castle in the Overlook Room. I’ll
transfer directly there. There’s
something mysterious about that place.
I’d like to see more of it. There may be
secrets there.”
John Paul straightened up and
stretched. “It’s been a very long and
difficult day. Let’s all get some rest and
regroup here in the morning. Cassiopia,
as I’ve said, if there are any new
developments I’ll wake the two of you
immediately. Does either of you need
anything?”
After tired goodbyes, Cassiopia
and Markman made their way to their
new ride and headed back to their
hotel. The mood was a mixture of
anxiety and anticipation.
“We’ll get him back. You know that
don’t you?” said Markman
sympathetically.
“I would doubt that except that
you’re around. I’ve seen you at work
too many times. You have a strange
way of sniffing out trouble and getting
into it, or trouble just decides to seek
you out for one reason or another. I
can’t explain it. It’s weird. I just hope
we all get out this in one piece.”
“Gee, that sounded like a
compliment, I think,” quipped
Markman.
“Well, I love you, after all.”
“Wow! Did you just say that?”
“I give up. The drag down the
mountain finished off my resistance.”
Markman glanced over
affectionately. “Me too.”
Cassiopia paused and looked out
the side window at the lights of
Culpeper. “Have you stopped to think
how much our lives have changed in
the past few days?”
“Yeah, it’s like that old black and
white movie, ‘Ship Of Fools’. It’s like
we’re walking a line between two
worlds.”
“Doesn’t it scare you?”
“We’ve been so damn busy. I
haven’t had time to think about it.”
“There’s something that’s scaring
me.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s complicated.”
“The suit is too dangerous?”
“No. Not that, even though it is.”
“Well, what then?”
Cassiopia spoke reluctantly. “The
questions I keep asking John Paul. I’m
like compelled to ask them whether I
want to or not.”
“Which questions?”
“You know.”
“I’m not a mind reader. I don’t
know what you mean.”
“About the Celestials.”
“You mean the questions you keep
asking him about the higher planes of
life?”
“It’s more than that.”
“Well, what do you mean?”
“It’s what he keeps referring to
without actually saying it.”
“Please, you’re twisting my brain
into a pretzel.”
“What he keeps inferring without
actually saying it.”
“God? Are you talking about God?”
“Well that’s what all his references
keep pointing to. That’s like the
common denominator. He never
mentions that name, but you find
yourself filling it in the blanks for him
without it having been said.”
“But why does that scare you?”
“Because, I’ve always relied on
science, just like he says, and often
with an amount of skepticism to
anything outside it. You can’t build a
thesis for God using science. There is
no science available. You can’t support
such an argument with equations.
There are no equations.”
“So?”
“So? So John Paul proves just
about everything he says, one way or
another. He proves it because he’s
living it. So when you add all this up, it
comes out that God is a real thing that
actually exists.”
“So? Haven’t you admitted in the
past that you believe in God?”
“Yes. I have.”
“What’s the problem?”
“The problem is I’ve never had to
face the fact that God might actually be
real. It was easy to say yes there’s
something out there we don’t
understand, something so much
greater than us that it is beyond
understanding. It’s easy to say that and
then put it aside. But when suddenly
you’re faced with the prospect that God
might actual be a real and present part
of the fabric of your life, it’s
frightening.”
Markman sat back and smiled.
“Ah, the disclosure syndrome.”
Cassiopia looked irritated. “What?”
“It’s something from an old B-
grade science fiction novel I once read.
It tells how when people learned there
was other intelligent life in the solar
system many of them went koo-koo
and did crazy things because they
couldn’t handle it. One character in the
story talks about that and says
something like, even though not one
Dostları ilə paylaş: |