Star Trek: This Side of Darkness, Part Two by John Erik Ege - HTML preview

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Chapter 2

Garcia arrived at Sickbay and was instantly confused. His mind reeled and he felt a sense of vertigo. There were androids present. Herman-1, Alice-42, Barbara-13, Maisie-137, Trudy-360, and Stella. Stella wore no collar or designation. She was young, maybe in her twenties. Dirty blond hair fell past her shoulders. She was wearing a Pathfinder uniform, skirt option, purple highlights. There was another man present, holding a black cat, a man who wasn’t Gary Seven, but he didn’t have time to process that further as Stella was suddenly up against him, holding the sides of his face and kissing him, revealing a history that still hadn’t caught up with him.

      Stella hugged him. “I have missed you so much.”

      “Why do I feel like Samuel Becket from Quantum Leap?” Garcia asked.

      “Isn’t time travel fun?” the stranger holding the cat asked.

      Stella continued to hold Garcia, weeping into his shoulders.

      “Why are you crying?” Garcia asked. When she didn’t respond he looked to Simone. Her arms were crossed. “What?”

      “I didn’t say anything,” Simone said.

      “Are you angry about something?” Garcia asked.

      “You continue to project emotions where there are none,” Simone said.

      “Yeah, that face strikes me as at least annoyed,” Garcia said.

      “May I catch you up to speed?” the stranger holding the cat asked.

      “We’ve met?” Garcia asked.

      The stranger nodded. He didn’t offer to shake hands. He was holding and petting a cat. Isis! The Androids simply smiled. They seemed happy. Stella stopped crying and came off his shoulders.

      “You don’t remember anything? You don’t remember me?” Stella asked.

      “Don’t be disturbed by that, Stella,” the stranger said. “He has been in so many worlds, so many timelines, so many universes now, he is having difficulty remembering everything he has done and seen. Your memories are still in his head. He just lacks the neural connections to ascertain those memories, presently.”

      “I’ll help you remember,” Stella said, taking his hand and squeezing.

“I do know you. You’re Stella, Harcourt Fenton Mudd’s wife,” Garcia said. “I kept him in check for you, just like you asked,” Stella said. “So we can be together.”

      “The original timeline was preserved as specified,” Norman said. “The original

Kirk timeline happened. We believe they bought our logical paradox impairment.”

      “So, explain why Stella is young…”

      “Cryogenics,” Stella said. “I was worried that Mudd was going to kill me so I had Norman make an android body for me, and she took my place. It was designed to simulate normal aging. Per my request, they put me in cryogenics until Simone arrived. She came, just like you said she would.”

      “When did I meet you precisely?” Garcia asked.

      “You were sent back in time to steal vital information from the USS Discovery,” Simone said. “You gave Mudd access to a device like the one you’re wearing in order to create a distraction. You and Mudd cycled together until you accomplished your goal, which was complicated by the fact Mudd used the device in nefarious ways.”

      “That sounds like Mudd,” Garcia said. “That doesn’t sound like me. I wouldn’t give…”

      “You gave him the device,” Simone said.

      “And where did I get such a device?” Garcia asked.

      “We make them,” Simone said. “Using knowledge gained from the Mark 1 time machine, with help from Norman and their extensive knowledge of physics. Their AI hive mind has been instrumental in helping us with our mission. The time machine Mark

1 is conscious. Norma and Losira are aspects of this new consciousness.”       “Seriously?” Garcia asked.

      “No human can build such a sophisticated artifact and not expect consciousness to emerge,” the stranger said. “You skirt the issue all the time, but your ships today are all on the verge of being conscious. Not just because of the sophistication of the computers, but because of the collective conscious of the crew and the guests. The electromagnetic fields of stars are more sophisticated than the neural firings of the human brain, and I submit to you, they’re alive. The native Americans were not wrong when they said the rocks and the trees, they’re also alive. The energy field that surrounds the galaxy, that’s a collective consciousness, not a gestalt of all the matter in the universe, but more like a lensing effect of matter affecting consciousness, Your science has it backwards, it’s not matter first, then consciousness, but consciousness first, and everything in the universe resonates with consciousness.

“Consciousness is fundamental. Consciousness before physics. The perspective that materialism preceded consciousness is an illusion, a paradox. Your science suggests that the brain makes decisions prior to you being consciously aware of making a decisions. This established science. You can prove it to yourself, but everyone dismissed this fact because it doesn’t feel right. Hell, you also know matter is both wave and particle, but you can’t hold this either, because it just doesn’t feel right. The materialist perspective is you have an experience and then your brain created an explanation, the

‘interpreter module’ if you will confabulates an experience and uploads that into the conscious mind. I submit to you that though you experience time flowing from past to future, it actually flowing from future to past, your consciousness is first, and conscious is creating the physical reality as it travels backwards. Your experience of linear progression forwards in time is an illusion.”

“That’s absurd,” Garcia said. “It flies against all sense of subjective experiential observation.”

      “The materialist version of reality, were consciousness is an illusion, a confabulation, doesn’t that also go against subjective observation? Every sentient person will tell you they have an experience of making a choice. No matter how many times the neural scientist in the lab demonstrates to a subject that they made decisions prior to being aware of the decisions, all subjects default back to their belief that they have free will. Even this conversation is so spooky weird, beyond even Einstein’s spooky action at a distance weird, that it will be ignored, dismissed, and not brought up again. This paradox mimics the double slit experiment, where quantum physicists believe things must be observed in order for reality to exist. That means you need a consciousness first. You can’t have the big bang without a conscious observer making it happen.”       “Who are you?” Garcia asked.

      “My name is Jon Harister,” the stranger said. “You’re already familiar with Isis, I believe.” The cat meowed.       “You’re from the future?” Garcia asked.

      “Yes,” Jon said. “No. From the past. The future’s past. Past’s future’s present…

Isis elevated me. It’s complicated.”

      “If you tell me it’s a wibbly wobbly…”

      “I would never use that,” Jon said, feigning hurt. “Well, mostly, never. I have. Probably will again. That’s actually quite a useful metaphor for time.”

      Garcia turned to Simone. “Why are we making temporal cycling bracelets?”       “All our temporal agents will wear these devices in order to guarantee their return to base,” Simone said. “Additionally, all temporal agents will be modified. They will have technological upgrades to their persons, including neural implants. On returning to base, their experiences are downloaded into the central database for review. That is the procedure we are about to do on you.”       “I’m a temporal agent?” Garcia asked.

      “TA0001,” Norman said.

      “I am not happy hearing this,” Garcia said. “Why don’t I remember this?”       “Your set point was adjusted forwards of the rule implementation in order to prevent you from undoing it,” Norman said.

      Garcia was clearly angry. “You did this?” Garcia asked.       “No,” Norman said. “This was decided by Sophia.”       “Sophia?” Garcia asked.

      “The consciousness that emerged when Mark 1 came online,” Garcia said. “The bracelet you’re wearing was given to you by her.”

      “Before she existed?”

      “Wibbly, wobbly,” Garcia said. “You are now an aspect of Sophia. All agents become aspects. All inhabitants of the Elmartay system are part of the collective unconsciousness of the system; they, too, are aspects. Pathfinder and her crew, and the androids, we are all aspects. You had multiples lives on Earth of the past in a simulation. I lived on Earth in the past, in multiple lives, but not a simulation. My origin self is still on Earth. It has a mission, contractual obligations. I am an aspect that was pulled from him to help humanity. We’re children. We’re about to go through a growth spurt. We will become adults, or we will be removed from the game.”

      “The game? The universe isn’t a game,” Garcia said. “People are dying! They are dying because of choices we made. Choices I made. I will make. Not tens, not hundred, not thousands. Billions. Hundreds of billions. I want to preserve these lives.”

      “The time line has changed,” Jon said. “It happened. How do you preserve the life of those billions without killing the billions of lives that came after due to the event?”

      “I can save Vulcan!”

      “I believe you,” Jon said. “I also believe there are agents that want this dystopian paradigm you find yourself entering. It has weight and momentum, and you’re not going to sweet talk them out of having it.”

      “There’s a better way! There’s a better future! I have lived it!” Garcia said.

      “You have,” Jon agreed. “Indulge me if you will. Pretend you’re in the 21st century. You know there is a better future. Maybe your future resembles the 23rd century, shining Star Fleet city on the hill. Kirk is King Arthur. Or maybe your version of the perfect future is the 24ths century, and Picard is Arthur. So, now, jump to that future, and ask yourself, what does a utopian future look like from the perspective of someone in the 24th century? I am from that future. The tech in my uniform alone is so sophisticated it is an entity in its own right. It is endowed with holographic capabilities. I could manifest a Starship around me. I never need carry a weapon. If I need one, I can have one in the blink of an eye.” Jon demonstrated by extending his arm and gripping his hand as if grabbing an invisible phaser. It was there, solid, real, in his hand. He tossed it to Garcia, who caught it. “But I don’t need one. I can anticipate an attack because I know what people are deciding before they even know they decided. I am operating slightly out of phase to everyone else. Kind of like the people on planet Scalos, only I have more flexibility in timeframe I exist in. If I am operating in a real time frame, you can’t see me. I am presently phased into your reality so we can interact.”

      “You’re a god?” Garcia asked.

      “No. I am human. I am also limited in my scope of response,” Jon said. He gave a come hither gesture with his fingers and the weapon Garcia was holding returned, disappearing. “My oath to this future is as solid as your oath to Fleet. I am an ambassador here because I am human enough in my present state that people can relate to me without freaking out.” He smiled. “I have a metaphor that you might find useful. Maybe bring a little hope. Imagine, again, you’re back in the 21st century, looking towards a 24th century paradigm where humanity was better off. Imagine that perspective was shared and fiction was created and people had hope, but some new people came along and started writing it dark. There is a reason for that darkness. It’s Heinlein’s Childhood’s End. They know we are about to grow up. They can’t imagine what it’s like being grown up. This present darkness, it’s just that. They know a better time is coming, but they can’t allow it because in doing so, they must also allow for every peer becoming equally sovereign. They see the evil in their own hearts and project that out on everyone else and they want to squash that by squashing everyone else. The truth is, statistically, most people are good people and they want to grow up and have families. The evidence for that is 21st century has 9 billion people on the planet. If 9 billion people were inherently bad, the world would have blown up a long time ago. It’s got problems, no denying that, but most people actually care about life, others, and the planet. This moment is dark, but a better future is on the horizon.”

      “Jon gives speeches like Kirk,” Trudy said. Her android companions smiled.       “Now, if you’re reasonably satisfied, will you sit and allow me to retrieve the data from your last cycle,” Simone said.

      Garcia sat in the chair indicated. It was like a dental chair. No artifacts had to touch his head. Simone didn’t have to hold a medical scanner. All medical scans could be performed by the chairs, the tables, even the tech woven into the Pathfinder clothing. He became aware of this when Simone, standing beside him, became immersed in a holographic field of information, sorting it with her hands. It was a half cylinder, reaching to her periphery, but she could spin it as if it were a full cylinder enclosing her.

Windows in her hologram gave insights into Garcia’s experience, sound wave, identification of molecules, ‘smells,’ touch information, visual information was uploaded in spurts, giving a distorted assortment of images, pixelated and jumpy.

      Simone accessed a real time view of his brain. He knew it was his brain because of the identifier tag, but also because he recognized one of the neural implants. He became aware of the others and felt a wave of concern.

      “Relax,” Simone said.

      “Artificial corpus callosum,” Garcia said.

      “It’s necessary to sort information by hemispherical region,” Norman said.

“Individual brain regions are modulated and monitored by nanite implants.”       Garcia was not happy.

      “Relax,” Simone said again. “You’re coloring the data.”

      Stella kissed Garcia. “Does that help?”

      Simone looked at her, clearly angry. “No. Arousal response colors the data.”       “He can color my world any time he likes,” Barbara said.

      “Not helpful,” Simone said.

       “So, Norman,” Garcia said. “Your creators were human.”       “No,” Norman said.

      “You look human,” Garcia said.

      “The Milkyway had a preponderance of humanoid species and we adopted a baseline form that would facilitate interaction with the widest diversity of cultures,” Norman said.

      “Explain how your species, who were clearly traveling across the Universe, became extinct because of their primary star went supernova,” Garcia said.

      “Kind of like the Iconanians,” Jon said.

      “Exactly,” Garcia said.

      “You’re influencing the data,” Simone said. “Can you meditate?”       “How does that not influence the data?” Garcia asked her.

      “Maybe they were the Iconians,” Jon said.       Isis mewed a warning.

      “Just speculating out loud,” Jon said.

      “Intergalactic species should not be wiped out by a single stellar event,” Garcia said.

      “Unless, like the event you’re trying to prevent, it also resulted in a temporal anomaly,” Jon said.

      “Then Norman’s colony wouldn’t be here,” Garcia said.

      “Or, they’re bleed over from another timeline,” Jon said. “Like Miri’s planet. Or like the planet with the Romans on it. Or…”

      “All of you, out of Sickbay,” Simone said. “Now.”       “May I stay?” Stella asked.

      “No,” Simone said.

      “We’ll talk more later,” Jon said. “Come on, Stella. Let’s get lunch.”

      Isis protested, jumped out of his arm, and up onto Garcia lap. She purred loudly. He felt suddenly very calm. He knew Isis was a person, but he felt as if he and Simone were alone in Sickbay. Simone continued working. She did take a moment to thank Isis for calming him enough to collect better data.

      “Anything useful?” Garcia asked.

      “Quiet,” Simone said.

      “You realize your mood affects the baby?” Garcia said.

      Simone looked at him. “That is illogical. If babies were that fragile there would be no babies. Also, I am not emoting.”       “I feel otherwise,” Garcia said.

      “You’re projecting,” Simone said.

      “No, I don’t think so,” Garcia said.

      Simone turned to face him. She leaned over, so he could see a face up close and personal. Her bosom seemed bigger than he recalled. It was clear that his eyes went there, but came back to her eyes. There was evidence in the information field that Simone was monitoring of where his mind had gone. He seemed apologetic. She actually smiled. It was a creepy smile, clearly artificial. “Tam,” she said softly. She put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Please…” The nerve pinch rendered him unconscious. “Let me finish.” She turned back to her work.