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Exclusive: book online #7

Monday, December 6, 2010

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CHAPTER 7
WHISPERS FROM THE VOID
001001011001110
As soon as I was sure Thana was asleep I brought up the web. Slowly and quietly I walked around the outskirts of our encampment, setting a trip wire a few inches off the ground; in case there was trouble while I was gone. The other end I attached to my wrist. I didn’t go far, just far enough to be out of sight in case she awoke. It wouldn't look good if she caught me waving my hands around and mumbling to myself.
I settled in and crossed my legs. The web glowed lightly against the night as I reached out and plucked a strand. With my mind I stretched the thread until the moving area was once again visible. Black translucent letters flowed by like blood in a vein. I studied the odd script. It was indeed what I had thought, modified machine code. Innately I understood it. mmc was an advanced computer language specifically designed for scientific research. But why would such a code be present in these threads? It didn’t make sense. If this was a computer generated environment, it was like nothing I had ever seen. It was far too real.
I examined the code for several hours trying to figure out the purpose of the programming. If I focused I could make the text move by faster. Each time I reached the end, there was a space, then the code started over from the beginning. I could string the pieces together easily but it was an enormous program and each time I read it, it grew. It was continually growing and adapting, as if it were alive.
Then suddenly, I realized something. It was acting like the cognosphere! It was storing data, keeping track of variables, watching, and learning. This program controlled the flow of information about this world. Every detail was on record. Every action was being observed and reactions were being applied.
If I were to throw a ball the program would figure out how far the ball would fly, its speed and velocity, and what laws of nature would have to be applied to it. The program would regulate the ball’s response to my application and the cognosphere would store the results so the next person going by would find the ball lying on the ground. Every person on this planet, the Ten included, were continually writing the program. And it was Gaza who had designed the program. I looked up.
Gaza isn’t a god! He’s a programmer!
I stood. My legs were cramping from sitting too long. My mind was on fire weeding through the possibilities of this new information. How much did Gaza know? Was he responsible for bringing me here? Were the people of this world computer simulations, or were they real? Where did the woman and child fit into it? What type of environment was this that the computer could keep track of it? It wasn’t virtual reality, at least not like any I was aware of. It was far beyond any technology I’d ever seen. Somehow I felt sure of this.
I sat back down and quickly started a search for my own essence. If I could find myself in the program, then perhaps Gaza could find me too. This made me uneasy. As I searched, a character on the page caught my attention. It represented a sub-directory and was classified as ‘created items’. Perhaps I could find the cup of tea I had created at Kitaya’s.
I opened the directory into a thread of its own and the contents scrolled before me. It contained everything that had ever been created from the beginning of Vrin to the present time. Unbelievable! Laid out before me was creation itself!
Each item had a sub-directory, containing every detail, right down to its smell. I could change anything in Vrin without even being present with it. I shuddered. With a thought I could erase any of the items that lay before me. It was too much to comprehend.
I continued looking for my essence in the program but after an exhaustive search I gave up; the program was immense, with far too many sub-directories. It would take a lifetime to follow all the paths. This realization brought me comfort for it would be a monumental task, even for its creator, to track anything in a program this vast.
My mind was filled to capacity and I was about to quit for the night-- when something caught my eye. A peculiar entry moved up the thread. A new line. Someone must have just added it. I examined it closely. It was nothing like the other entries-- It was complete gibberish. I studied it for a moment then suddenly realized, it wasn’t gibberish! It was backwards! I reversed the line and decoded the statement. Much to my astonishment, it wasn’t a program line at all but a message. It read, "Test 4:12 pm: Robert, can you see this?"
I stared at it. Should I try to answer? Maybe the sender would be able to shed some light on things. The message included the time. I recognized the format, from the world just on the other side of my memory. Perhaps if I could make contact I could find some answers.
I focused my concentration on the strand. Just as I could apply textures to threaded structures I was sure I could apply text to the program. Sure enough it responded. On the thread before me lay my words in: "Yes. I see it."
I sat, staring at my words, wondering if the sender would see the reply, and wondering if I even wanted the answers to my questions. The text continued to scroll by for what seemed an eternity and I continued to watch. Every time it started a new loop I found the original message and decoded it. Each time I was disappointed. Until...
A buzz began emanating from one of the threads. I watched with curiosity as it twitched and hummed. Periodically the noise would fade and I could hear a faint voice mixed in with the chaotic signal. Someone was trying to communicate but the thread wasn’t amplifying the sound properly. I wasn’t sure if this would help but I clamped the thread on either end and pulled it taut. As I suspected the act of tightening caused the buzzing to fade and the voice became clearer. It was a masculine voice. "Marker test twenty-eight. Can you hear this?" Pause. "Marker test twenty-nine. Can you hear this?" Another pause.
I smiled. The owner of the voice didn’t realize he had gotten through.
"Marker test thirty. Can you hear this?"
"Yes," I responded. This was no time to play games.
"Oh my God! Robert! You did it! Hold on! Dr. Solomon is on his way."
"Who am I, and what is this place?"
"I’m sorry. I’m not authorized to give you any information. Dr. Solomon will be here any second." He sounded nervous.
"Well can you at least tell me who you are?"
"Although I don’t see how it can hurt I have to follow protocol. I’m very sorry."
I was getting annoyed.
He’ll be here in a minute. Are you in any pain or discomfort?"
"No."
"Are you in any danger?"
"Not at the moment."
"Then we are doing just fine."
"Right-- I guess that depends on your interpretation of just fine."
"Here he is!"
There was a short silence, then another man began to speak. "Hello, Robert. Remember me?" His voice sounded familiar.
"My memory is a little scattered but I think I recognize your voice, although I don’t remember from where."
"That’s okay. That’s a response we expected."
"Where am I?"
"Let’s take this one step at a time, Robert. Where do you think you are?"
 Great. I wanted answers not more questions! But I bit my tongue. If I was going to get anywhere I would need to cooperate. I took a breath. "Well, I’m on the planet Vrin. From what I can tell it is the twenty-first century but these people never moved beyond the middle ages."
"Is the experience believable?"
"Yes for the most part, but I’ve noticed discrepancies."
"Can you describe them?"
"Well, everything, almost everything, is far too perfect but there is a lack of detail in some of the natural effects."
"A lack of detail? Such as?"
"Such as particles in a sun beam that don’t move, and the total lack of insects. And when I first got here there was a weird color problem but it has either corrected itself or I’ve gotten use to it."
"That is a very interesting analysis."
"Now let me ask a question. Where am I?"
There was an awkward pause. Then, "--I’m not sure you want to know that yet."
"Try me."
"This is a very delicate matter. We should approach it with caution."
"Well we need to do it quickly because I don’t know how long this world is going to be here."
"What?"
A tinge of fear and adrenaline shot through me. Should I have said that? What if this was Gaza? --No, it couldn’t be, these men were definitely surprised I had gotten through. Still...
"Robert?"
I threw caution to the wind. "There is a madman here and he says he's going to destroy Vrin."
"My God! Why?" The man sounded genuinely alarmed.
"I’m not certain but from what I know of him, he can do it."
"Are you doing anything to stop him?"
"I’m afraid I can’t share that information with you." If there was any chance this was Gaza I didn’t want to put my friends in danger.
"I understand." He paused.
The pause lasted too long for my comfort. "Hello?"
"I’m sorry, Robert. My assistant was asking a question. We were discussing who that person could be."
"So you are aware of the others?"
"Yes. There are ten of you."
"Who are we and why are we here?"
Again there was a long pause.
I began to lose my patience. "If you don’t tell me who I am and why I’m here right now I'm going to cancel this communication!"
It was a bluff and he called it. "You don’t want to do that, Robert. You need answers as much as we do and you know deep in your heart that I am your friend. I know you are confused and believe me I am sensitive to that. But there is too much at stake to go blindly ahead. I’ll tell you what. I’ll give you half of what you've asked for. Perhaps it will help you to remember. Your name is Dr. Robert Helm. You are a scientist and a programmer. Unfortunately, I can’t tell you where you are or why you’re there just yet. We don’t know what that information would do to your psyche. We have a psychiatrist here and we are consulting..."
"Jason?" That was Thana’s voice.
"Gotta go."
"Robert, we need… "
The web vanished and I stepped out of the bushes. Thana was standing in the campsite with her back to me.
"Over here!" I called.
"Where did you go?" She sounded concerned.
"I just stepped into the bushes to... well, you know." I gave a crooked smile.
"Next time could you let me know?"
"You looked so peaceful. I didn’t want to wake you." I feigned a stretch. "Well, it looks like the sun is coming up. Think we should get started right away?"
"Yes. I think we’d better."
It was nice we were actually talking now but as we chatted my mind kept wandering back to the conversation in the web. Who could I trust? Everywhere I turned, there seemed to be a conspiracy.
I was beginning to feel like Rath.

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