Chapter 13
A book of Loxy, full of quotes, was on the table. “Light carries information. It holds information. It holds the whole universe in its entirety. Much more than on and off. It holds more than all the strands of DNA in the universe combined. Is it a wonder you have bio-photons emanating from you? Be your own light.”
Jon wandered into the kitchen wearing boxers, saw the book of Loxy, felt a quote comforting him, and continued on. He felt good, reminded of Loxy’s voice, and the lingering effects of recent intimacy. Coffee was coming to him even as he sat down at the small table. He touched the book. It was book in the making. He was sorting out all the gifts Loxy continued to bestow. Wall screens activated giving him the illusion of being near a rain forest. He activated a pad on the table to read articles while he drank the coffee, delivered by Eos. She sat opposite of him, smiled pleasantly, holding her own coffee. Outside, beyond the illusion of forest, the Martian night continued, pre-dawn.
“Trouble sleeping?” Eos asked.
“I never could sleep well with someone in my bed,” Jon admitted. “I hear every sound, I feel every movement. I…”
Eos smiled, encouraging him to go on.
“I wake to find myself touching or grinding or cuddling tighter,” Jon said. “If I am full awake, the urge to touch is too great.”
“I think she would be okay with your touch,” Eos said. “She consented to be in your bed.”
“She didn’t consent to sleep groping,” Jon said. “I didn’t ask. I didn’t think we’d fall asleep, actually.”
“It was a good tumble session, Jon. Perfectly normal to do so,” Eos said.
“Yeah,” Jon agreed. He touched an article that caught his eye and sipped coffee. ‘Evidence from new gravity wave detectors suggest the Universe extends significantly beyond the Light Horizon.’ “Does that mean the Universe is infinite, or just older than they guessed?”
“It’s hard to measure infinite,” Eos said. “It’s definitely older and larger than Earthers imagine.”
“There are going to be some really angry physicist when they hear the Universe is older than 13 billion years old,” Jon said.
“Probably why Earth won’t get this memo for a while,” Eos said. “They nearly went to war when Hubble said the Milky Way wasn’t the center of the Universe.”
Jon pushed through several articles; there were multiple articles on simulation theory available, probably due to his reading history. There were also ghost stories, alien abductions, alternate ‘real’ histories, and biological and anthropological studies of alien species- most from a human author and perspective. Jon did try to read nonhuman authors, but they could be challenging to relate with. He spent a great deal of time reading about the aliens that could pass as human. He turned off the data stream. He sipped his coffee and looked at Eos. Eos stared back, smirking.
“What?”
“Do I have to say it?” Jon asked.
“I like to hear it,” Eos said.
“You’re beautiful,” Jon said.
“You’re really much nicer after getting laid,” Eos said.
Jon tried to hide a smile. He stared into his coffee for a moment. “You know the argument that we probably live in an ancestor simulation, simply by the statistical probability of actually living in the real world being astronomically against being in the real world?” Eos nodded. “Well, couldn’t we make the same argument about death? I mean, there are billions of years behind me, and what trillions of trillions of years ahead of me; what are the odds of me actually experiencing a moment of time when I am alive when I have eternity to be dead.”
“You think the weirdest thoughts,” Eos said. “I love it. Maybe it take an eternity to unpack a single human life. Maybe there is no death, and you just chose to be here so you could have some experiences. Maybe souls have ability to super focus to such a degree that most of the real universe falls away. We do like stories having a beginning, a middle, and ending. Should human life be any different?”
An alert chimed and they both realized they were going to receive company. In fact the guest were practically knocking at the door before the kitchen island had risen to its working height. Eos greeted the guest by opening the door and the party entered as if they lived here. She also brought Jon a shirt, which he set on the cabinet. It was his house, he could be half naked. Jon was standing at the island holding his coffee when they entered; they might have assumed he was naked based on their reaction. He was prepared to offer everyone. General Abebe was a tall man, thick, dark chocolate skin, born in Ethiopia, raised on Mars. His eyes were bright, almost hazel. There was the hint of Ai light in his eyes. He was accompanied by an aid, a Captain, and two grunts. They all removed their hats.
“Seeker,” Abebe said. “We need your services.”
“Coffee?” Jon asked.
Jekel emerged from the bedroom, wearing only a black keyhole bed shirt, a size larger than she needed. It fell high enough on her thighs that you’d be guessing if she were naked below and underneath, but tempted to watch for discovery. Above underneath, it was clear she was naked, as her breast gave rise and shaped to the bed shirt. The grunts shifted their focus to Jon. The general’s aide seemed angry. Jon pushed the general’s intended coffee her way, as she was now closer. She touched his arm and kissed his cheek as she accepted the drink.
“Thank you, Jon. General,” Jekel said, acknowledging the general, and sipping the coffee. She acknowledged the aid with the cup blocking her smile. “Father.”
“Oh, this is fun,” Eos said.
Jon’s eyes were closed, and though he muttered, it was heard: “Every fucking time…”
“Oh, Jon, relax. Everybody has a father,” Jekel said.
“I would prefer he was Farther,” Jon said.
Jekel smiled. One of the Captain’s laughed. He subdued himself on garnering a glance form the General. On facing Jon, the General did seem amused.
“You, have a reputation, Sir,” the aide said.
“I can confirm several,” Jekel said. “Ladies come first.”
Jon blushed from embarrassment. The father wasn’t embarrassed, but he was also red and his eyes furious.
“OMG, Jon, you’re so easy,” Eos said.
“He is not Jewish,” Jekel senior said.
“Oh, we are so not going there,” Jekel said.
“We are not,” Abebe said. “They’re adults. We’re intruding. Jon, we need you. And we need to go now. Accept and we’ll explain on the way.”
“In blind,” Jon said. “Extra for that.”
“Granted,” Abebe said. “Captain Jekel. Summon your team. You’re still on protection duty.”
“That’s not necessary,” Jon said. Jekel senior was saying something similar.
“Don’t argue with the general,” Jekel told Jon and her father. “I am going with.”
“Let’s go,” Abebe said.
“Can I get dressed first?” Jon asked.
“You can get dressed on the way up,” Abebe said.
He turned and led the way out to his ‘Skip.’ A second version of Eos was entering carrying his mail bag and Torch. He accepted the items and followed the general. Jekel paused only to kiss her father and then hurried up after Jon, bringing her coffee. The grunts stared at her ass until father Jekel stomped. The Captains were the last to follow.
The skip was a triangular ship with rounded corners. It was hovering, with a stair case up coming off the back, not touching the ground. It was accelerating away before the ramp was even shut, and in orbit before Jon and Jekel were dressed. They were approaching a ship that for all intents and purposes looked a great deal like a submarine. It was larger, perhaps twice the length of a Nimitz class aircraft carrier. It shined like polished gold lying in dark velvet. ‘Afar Lumière,’ commissioned by Djibouti. The skip settled down on the deck and they disembarked to be greeted by an entourage, Navy personal ran the deck. The floors were glossy black, illuminated at the edges by light strips. Jekel met her squad while the Officer of the Deck met the general and Jon. A Yeomanette was introduced- simply Estelle, no last name offered. She had French-Arabic accent, but spoke English plain enough
“It’s nice to meet you, éclaireur. You’ll be dining with the Admiral tonight,” Estelle said. “I have been apprised you’re permitted a guest. I assume Captain Jekel?”
“Fuck if rumors aren’t fast,” Jon said.
“Come, I’ll show you your quarters,” Estelle said.
Jon nodded, met the eyes of the general first. The general nodded, said he’d see him at dinner. Jekel Senior told him ‘we’ll speak later.’ Captain Jekel just gave him a smile. Her squad seemed amused. Estelle couldn’t escort him away fast enough.
“Eos has been granted access to ship status and your mission,” Estelle was saying as they walked corridors, through bulkheads, and around work stations.
Jon did not carry military rank, but the officers and noncommissioned treated him as if he held something. He was embarrassed by the attention. Male and female officers showed him respect; human and non-terrestrial beings gave him respect. Even Android intelligence gave him deference. Part of him said, this is normal- anyone about to die would be given honors. He had no evidence he was about to die, but generally, when they called a Seeker, it meant he was likely to die. Frequently more than once. The size of his quarters was more than gracious. It was the guest of honor space, and likely larger than even the Admirals. They could cut his room into quarters and assigned four to each, and still people would be happy by the absurd spaciousness of it all.
“Seriously, this is too much,” Jon said.
“Sorry, this is your space, éclaireur,” Estelle said.
“Assign Jekel and her squad here, then, because I will not stay in this room alone. You can assign me a bunk in one of the barracks if you have nothing else,” Jon said.
Estelle met his eyes, measuring him. Her focus went through him and beyond and when the focused returned, she frowned. “This is the safest room on the ship. You are more likely to be recovered here in an emergency than anywhere else. Your safety is paramount. You protection detail will be shifted here to accommodate your request. I can have the quartermaster erect partitions if you would like.”
“Meet the squad’s needs,” Jon said. “I will be content from here out. I apologize for not being more grateful.”
“You’re primary interface was developed in America,” Estelle said. “I will make sure you have double portions of steak tonight.”
“Don’t do that…”
Estelle nodded. “May I educate you about your quarters?”
“I got it,” Jon said.
“May I do anything for you?” Estelle asked.
“No, thank you,” Jon said.
“My door is directly across the hall. You can knock. You can say my name. My schedule is freed up for you for the duration of your stay. If I don’t hear from you in the interim, I will collect you at 1900 hours for dinner. Eos has been provided the clothing template,” Estelle said. “There is a civilian gym at the end of the corridor with a pool and bar. There are several ambassadors who would like to meet you. We can coordinate your schedule tomorrow.”
Jon thanked her. There was clearly nothing else for her, so she bowed and retreated. Jon activated one of his monitors to see outside. There was really nothing to see. They were moving in non-space. He turned the monitor to an educational construct of his ship that would allow him the basic lay out and operational blue prints that would give him an increase in minimum functionality while he was on board. Eos had access to this, and he could ask her for directions, but he also liked knowing stuff. The protection detail arrived with their packs and duffels prior to the quartermaster and his team. The ladies turned the room over as if marveling at it, while also securing the room from any unforeseen threats against Jon. The Quartermaster arrived with his team while they were at work and he seemed slightly embarrassed that they didn’t trust his ship. He didn’t say anything, though. In no time they added bunks and spacers that blended in seamlessly, as if it had always been this way. Jekel declined a bunk being inserted, saying she’d be sharing Jon’s bed.
“Really,” Jon said.
“Unless you don’t want to,” Jekel said, presenting a face that was combination of woe and puppy dog eyes.
Jon nearly rejected because of that, but detected a hint of a smile on her lips. “No, it’s fine,” Jon said.
She skipped feigning relief and went to mild anger. “You could show more enthusiasm,” Jekel said.
“I won’t be getting any sleep, is that enthusiastic enough?” Jon asked.
Jekel nodded and threw herself on the bed. She immediately started sorting a holographic interface only she could see. “God, look at this dress that was picked out for me tonight.” Her squad gathered around and talked. He took to the couch. With all of them there talking, about dresses, ‘where do you hide your gun?’ The impracticality of the shoes, and who else might be at the party, he quickly fell asleep. She would substitute ‘smart’ ballet shoes.
निर्मित
Heather was walking on a beach. Karma, full size human, walked beside her. Karma was responding to a question when Heather drew to a stop. She had lost all train of thought. She couldn’t identify what they were discussing. There were stars, and a glorious golden moon- clearly a moon reflecting light. It wasn’t the Earth’s moon. It shed enough light it was comparable to early morning. The waves that arrived on the beach churned out a soft, blue luminescent beer foam that quickly dissipated back into the sea as the waters receded. The trees running along the cliff top sparked with fireflies. The air was cool. There was the hint of ozone, but no evidence of recent thunderstorms. It felt and smelled like Christmas, as if she had woken before anyone else. Anticipation and hope was almost too much to hold and she wanted to run wake someone. Her experience of waking people in childhood was not good, so she didn’t run. The realization that she had no one to run to and share even the most innocuous epiphany weighed on her. The thought occurred to her she didn’t yet believe Karma was a real person.
“You okay?” Karma asked.
“Where are we?” Heather asked.
Karma made a pretense of studying the terrain. She was holding her slippers. She dug her toes into the sand. There was a homemade, shell bracelet on her left ankle. Her legs sparkled in the golden moonlight, as is she were wearing sparkly hose. Her arms sparkled, too. And her neck. Her splattering of face freckles suggested uncharted constellations. The moon light was tangible enough to tickle the skin and give shadows. Karma’s shadow seemed magical- the silhouette of her body solid, but the dress moving about her like an aura, like the movement of leaves if the leaves were an ocean wave churning sideways. The breeze shifted her hair and pushed her silky, slightly translucent dress against her body. The dress clung to her as if it were alive.
“I think we’re on a beach,” Karma said.
Heather gave her a serious look, almost anger. “Where? What’s this place called?”
“I don’t think we ever named it,” Karma said.
“We?”
“It’s just the land,” Karma said.
“You’re home? You live here?” Heather asked.
“We live here,” Karma said.
“We who?” Heather asked.
“You. Me,” Karma said, and looked around affectionately. “And the others.”
Heather retrieved her Torch from her medic bag. Karma looked at her, questioningly.
“What others?” Heather asked.
“I thought you understood,” Karma said. “You don’t live alone here. Your body is a planet, host to flora and fauna. You can’t exist without them, and they wouldn’t exist without you. Every atom in your body is a coin of the realm, a conscious agent, which you have borrowed from a host- and cannot live without that host. You are not just a brain, your whole body is really a brain. Also, there is more than one you but they’re all you. Split the brain, two hemispheres- two yous, but not you; both existed as one, and yet separate, they still consider themselves whole, not broken, and experience no interruptions in being- and they both think they are you. They are no more the same persons than we are. You and I are different, but we share a source. I am you, you are me. We all hold separate interests and wants, just as you and I do, and we are all the same. We all share some memories and some history, but we all see things radically different. Interesting how a tiny shift in perspective can change things so radically. We are only separated by the width of the corpus callosum in some place, and as far as head and toe in others. And that is just the physical. There are others here, like me, in the vastness of the mind. People you imagined. Fears you created. I have been with you from the start, and will be with you until you tell me leave.” She became very serious. “And then there are those like him.” She nodded towards the cave.
Heather turned. There was an opening in the cliff wall. The moon light didn’t penetrate.
“Who is he?” Heather asked.
“He is you,” Karma said. “You should go meet him.”
“He is me? I am female,” Heather said.
Karma shook her head, amused. “Your body is female. Your primary interface is female. Your soul is not limited to sexual duality. There is a plethora of other existential states.”
“If we are that, genderless, why do we incarnate into genders?” Heather said.
“My answer is speculative; souls are so perfectly independent, they came up with a device to enhance cooperative play, allowing for greater levels of complexity of evolution,” Karma said. “Go meet him.”
“Who is he? What’s he like? What’s in there? And don’t tell me only what you take with you! If I wanted to do shadow work, I would have gone to a Jungian shrink,” Heather said.
“Or Jon?” Karma asked.
“Jon is a Jungian shrink?”
“He loves shadow work,” Karma said. “He would quote Jung here: that which you most need will be found where you least want to look.”
“Is Jon in there?” Heather asked.
Karma shrugged. “I’ll wait here for you.”
“Of course you will. Afraid of what’s in there?”
“I have come to terms with what’s there. I have lived on the land for a long time,” Karma said. Heather seemed to be contemplating. She became aware that her footsteps in the sand didn’t go as far as she imagined they should go. Karma touched her gently. “You may have been elected primary interface, but that doesn’t mean you’re the chosen one. It isn’t necessarily your job to make everything right or fix things. But, it is reasonable for you to face that which you allowed in. Stop looking through the mirror. See yourself as you are, faults and all.”
“What do you mean by that?” Heather asked.
Karma shrugged and lightly indicated the cave.
Heather clenched the Torch and headed towards the cave. It was only her anger that drove her there. A stray thought in her head rang so true that she felt as if she was on the verge of waking up- ‘in the real world, there is no way in hell you would go there,’ was the thought. She heard herself responding, ‘this is not a dream.’ The sands shifted under her feet before the ground became hard and sturdy. She stumbled on a small rock. ‘See, not a dream.’ She thought light, and her Torch illuminated the world around her brighter than the moon, giving nearby, natural artifacts an extra shadow. The background of cliff and trees and ocean seemed to fade. The beach was no longer discernable, but the churning of blue light was there, softly- a magical rolling of mystical energies. The cave entrance loomed. She studied the outer edges, which looked as if it had been clawed, by something trying to get out of the cave, not something trying to go in.
Heather entered the cave. The tunnel walls were smooth, like polished stone that had been tumbled. Her light failed to penetrate into the distance. She discovered she could shape her light, making it friendlier for the shape of the tunnel. The glare off the wall eased, surface features came out, a taffy weave of rainbow patterns. The tunnel walls seem completely made up of polished opal, not pieces together, but one solid opal that was tunneled through. Redirecting the Torch gave her the illusion of the old disco lights flashing primary colors. The focused Torch made it possible for light to penetrate further into the tunnel. There was nothing frightening here- other than the thought she was going into a tunnel and that there was earth above her. She proceeded deeper into the tunnel. She proceeded so fast that the movement of rainbows gave her vertigo. She slowed her pace.
The tunnel opened up into a vast cavern. At least, it seemed vast, as no focus of the Torch brought the distance into view. She came to a cliff. Looking down gave her hints of something. There was a walkway that went nowhere, like a diving board extended out over a cliff. There was no indication of water below. Something seemed to sparkle below- but she was pretty sure, it wasn’t water. She had no impulse to jump. Her curiosity drove her out onto the platform. She changed the Torch’s focus, trying to discern below.
Heather heard Karma’s voice in her head, a gentle whisper. “Turn the light off.”
Heather nearly asked- “are you mad?!” She found herself complying against her resistance: she turned the light off. She gripped the Torch tight and held her breath as the darkness rushed her. ‘Is the darkness rushing you, or is the light rushing away?’ Heather wasn’t sure if that was her voice, Karma’s voice, or someone new. ‘All bodies in space generate light. Light fills the universe. The only darkness is in you.’
Heather was about to ask who was speaking when she realized she was seeing. There were stars in the walls and overhead, tiny flecks of glitter. Below was a pile of treasure so rich it was as if it were a cliché. Lights illuminated the treasure. Glowing orbs and chains of lights. Christmas lights! Her eyes tracked gold and silver artifacts, piles of coins, crystals on illuminated stands. Display hutches gently cultivated a maze of items culled out of curiosity or appreciation. There were library shelves separating piles. There were books. There was no particular rhyme or reason to the organizational scheme, and yet, it was perfectly organized- for a hoarder. Someone would know if one item was moved. There were human sized paths through the treasures. There were statues, pompous, pretentious, and sexy. Some wore clothes. Paintings were suspended in the air.
A wind circled Heather and she let out a scream. She was lifted, pulled off the platform. She wasn’t just suspended, she was being groped. She tumbled like an astronaut, as free floating in space. She felt as if she was being consumed, tasted, licked and though there was evidence of wetness on her, she felt as if she were a Popsicle being inserted and pulled through lips- but in truth she was dry. She activated the sword. The pink blade extended, and the world of lights below were erased in the brilliance of the sword’s furious light. She swung at nothing. She spun herself trying to lash out at her invisible attacker. There was chuckling in her brain as if whatever was grappling her was amused by the fight.
“Don’t fight,” Karma said in her ear.
“Fuck that! Help me,” Heather said.
“It will outlast you. It will wait until you’re exhausted. Turn off the blade,” Karma said.
“No! I will not submit,” Heather said. “This is your fault. You tricked me.”
“Let go. Let me take over,” Karma said.
“No!” Heather said. “This is all a trick. Wake up!”
Heather’s tumbling ceased and before her, illuminated by the pink of her sword was the face of a dragon. The eyes reflected the sword’s light. The eyes fiercely studied her, more amused than angry or concerned. The eyes reminded her of a human studying an insect caught on sticky paper. It opened its mouth and exhaled. The breath pushed past her. Though it was not precisely horrible, it was not human. She shuddered. The nostrils flared as it inhaled. She felt air rushing around her. There was a glow in its throat.
“Shields, not sword!” Karma said.
The dragon opened its mouth and unleashed a torrent of fire. Heather swung the sword as if that would save her from the fire. She felt Karma take her hand. The sword was extinguished and replaces by a sphere of energy that surrounded her. The sphere was as thin as a soap bubble, and in sunlight might have been mistaken for a soap bubble, except for the human being suspended in it. The fire rolled around the orb, taking on a glow in the direct path of the flame. The dragon bit down on the orb and carried it down into the cavern. It held it in its hands and gnawed on the orb. It licked at the orb. Satisfied the nut couldn’t be cracked, it set it on a pedestal. Inside the orb, Heather’s feet orientated down. She stood awkwardly on the inside of the bubble. The dragon leered.
“Bauble,” it said. “Dance.”
“Fuck you,” Heather said.
The dragon chuckled. It closed its eyes. Heather’s hand ached from gripping the Torch so tightly. She bit her lip as a wave of groping went over her again, only it wasn’t just her outside senses- every internal organ was stimulated in a way that she fell to her knees, her free hand touching the orb. She feared she would roll like hamster ball kicked by a foot, but the pedestal held her through the orgasm. She felt the severe disconnect between physical pleasure and the intellectual and emotional hate that exploded through the sensations of being forced.
The dragon lay its head down. It closed its eyes. Women entered the chamber. They wore simple white dresses. They wore flowers on their wrists and ankles; they were each collared and individually tagged. They pushed a stair case over to the pedestal. One climb the stairs and faced Heather. She held in her hand a small, crystal orb. She made the motion of turning a hand crank; inside the orb a music box dancer appeared and spun.
“Dance,” she said.
Heather bit down on the urge to say ‘fuck you.’
“Dance or,” the woman said, and demonstrated a shaking of the orb- a snow storm raged.
“I am not a snow globe,” Heather said.
The woman knelt down on her knees. All of the women went to their knees, seven of them total. The woman held the orb high with one hand, while her free hand rested on her bare knee. A woman appeared in the globe. The woman’s twin, a ghostly woman solidified out of the air, a giant of a woman. Her movements mirrored the one in the crystal. Her feet touched the floor. Her eyes were even with Heather’s. The woman in the crystal and the giant before her both faced her, though their perspectives were shifted in relationship to each other.
“You came on your own free will. You did not barter for a wish. You did not make an offering of reasonable value. The consequence for not bartering and not offering a gift means we choose compensation. You have offered yourself to us, and we accept you with love,” the giantess said.
“I am not a slave,” Heather said.
“All are slaves, all are free,” the giantess said. She pointed at the one on the stairs. “This ‘one’ came to me to be freed from her shackles. She is happy.” She pointed to individuals on the floor. “This ‘two’ came knowing that her sacrifice helped her village. This ‘three’ was sacrificed against her will, but found her life here better than it was from those who stole her. This ‘four’…”
“Stop. I will not be convinced that this is good…” Heather said.
“Not good. Not bad. Just, different,” the giantess said. “I am them. I am not them. I speak for the beast and his burdens.”
“They’re burdens?” Heather said contemptuously. “If owning a slave is so much trouble, free them…”
“They are necessary. They must feed him, emotionally. In return, he must care for them. Feed them,” the giantess said. “As you will, in time. Burden or Bride, it’s synonomous.”
“I will never…”
The giantess held up a hand. Heather fell silent. Her eyes raged. “We are already connected. You are not like the other Torch Bearers who have come to kill us.”
“There have been others?” Heather asked.
The giantess petted the dragon, as if it were a pet. It emitted a sound not unlike a cat purring. Its throat pulsed with the vibration. The giantess reached into a pile of gems and let them rain through her hands. She kept one, twirled it in her fingers, a strange ruby diamond combination that was weirdly melted together. “These are the remains of the individuals who dare oppose us. There were many.”
Heather swallowed.
“We can wait. You will serve,” the giantess said. “Or become one of the many treasured beings who have passed this way but once.”
“We are treasured,” the seven slaves said.
“Very much so, my little burdens,” the giantess agreed.