Chapter 13
Chiara repelled down to the clearing. The entire clearing was ash, surrounded by giant sleeper trees. The circle of trees reminding were charred on one side, and from the perspective of the ground, it felt like she was in gated area, one tree that completely protected this level ground of ash. She had to unfold her turtleneck to cover her mouth and nose. Smoke rose from the ground, from the trees, like mist. She walked away from the wall into the center, looking for any remnants or artifacts. Her suit helped. She knelt in the ash and dug up a crystal. It was a diamond the size of a baseball.
“Jon?”
“Data crystal,” C-Jon confirmed. “The platform self-destructed to protect the environment.”
“Why didn’t they take the crystal?” Chiara asked.
“I don’t know,” C-Jon said.
“Can you identify the remains of your friends? Were they killed?” Chiara asked.
“Insufficient information,” C-Jon said. “There is extraordinary amount of carbon remains to sort. Energy signatures for both plant and animal life are discernable…”
Ghost emerged from the trees. Chiara stood, not meeting their eyes, turning to confirm she was surrounded. There were elves with a variety of dress from peasants to kinds, from ancient to modern. There sprites and pixies, some flying, some hovering, some walking. Those that walked left footprints in the ash, meaning they had a physical presence. One of the ghosts came forwards. C-Jon identified her as Trew, Speaker for Trees.
“You do not have permission to be on the surface,” Trew said.
“I am sorry,” Chiara said. “Unfortunate circumstances brought me to landing…”
“I will hear no excuses…”
“It’s an explanation, not excuse,” Chiara said. “I will accept penalty. I would prefer a peaceful resolution that leads to my extraction from the surface.”
“Are you responsible for the noise?” Trew asked.
“Noise?” Chiara asked.
“There is a disturbance in the field,” Trew said. “It is making cross species communication difficult. Consensus has been compromised.”
“Our hyperspace network was subverted in a hostile takeover,” Chiara explained. “I suspect the noise you hear is related to that event. Someone may be broadcasting into the field with the express purpose of disrupting communication.”
“This is intolerable. We, the sleeping, are awake,” True said. “We will respond.”
“What does that mean?” Chiara asked.
“You have no say here,” Trew said. “You are not an authorized agent.”
“I get that. But you’re talking to me. That’s meaningful. You seek information to guide your decisions. Isn’t that ultimately why you invited us?” Chiara asked.
“In the beginning, we were one. There was no separation, and all was shared. We experienced a fall. There was war and famine and unrest. We have tried to reunification and it has failed. It is time to harvest the surface and bring it back into harmony with the One,” Trew said.
“They’re your children,” Chiara reminded her.
“The fruit is barren,” Trew said. “We have been reviewing the knowledge Jon brought us for millennia. We are more divided than ever.”
“There has been no war in here in a thousand years. You have ended hunger and poverty and nature has recovered. You’re on the verge of realizing your dream,” Chiara said. “You are on the path of becoming a member state in the Galactic Confederacy. You are making strides faster than any previous member state.”
“We’re on the verge of another fall, and your kind are complicit- the unwelcomed, the unauthorized, they are here on the surface,” Trew said.
“I know,” Chiara said.
The circle of beings tightened around her.
“You have the right to kill this body,” Chiara said. “But it wouldn’t be better to use me as an agent in your defense? Can you allow my death to be meaningful?”
“Share your thoughts,” Trew said.
“Somewhere on the planet, there must be a device, an emitter array of some sort, perhaps attached to a supercollider,” Chiara said. “Allow me to go there. Maybe I can learn something that will allow you to stop the noise. Maybe I can destroy the device that is alienating you from your children.”
“Why should we trust you?” Trew said.
“Because I walk with Jon,” Chiara said.
The circle of beings exchanged looks. Trew stepped forwards and put her hand on Chiara’s chest. She closed her eyes. She nodded. She stepped back.
“We accept you offer, conditionally,” Trew said.
“Okay,” Chiara said.
“Jon will remain here with us,” Trew said.
“What?!” Chiara demanded.
“You will strip yourself of him, and go naked into the world,” Trew said.
“No!” Chiara said.
“I still have children who go naked and alone daily. If you can’t walk for a moment without being fortified, why should I trust you have our best interest?”
There was horrifyingly long pause as Chiara and C-Jon deliberated. When the decision was made, Chiara stepped forwards, but her clothing remained where it was. She stepped forwards naked, and her clothing hovered as if supported by a ghost. Trew put out her hand.
“What?” Chiara asked.
“The crystal, too. Hand it over,” Trew said.
Chiara handed it to her. She was clearly mad, but not ashamed by her nakedness.
“I need tech to get out of here,” Chiara said.
Trew smirked. “Have you been gone from family that long? Walk with me.”
Chiara followed Trew. The circle of beings parted to allow her to pass. They approached the parameter of the tree. It was a solid wall that was impossibly high. Trew placed her hand on the tree. She nodded to Chiara to do the same. Chiara touched the tree. She didn’t even have time to gasp- her body was suddenly not there. Her perspective was- her consciousness was- like a bubble of awareness that could see in three directions. She was racing up the tree. She was holding hands with Trew, and not holding hands. They went together, up and around and inside the tree, through flowing energy vortecs, and along currents of invisible streams, into the sky, back down into the earth, and back up again. It was as if she was seeing all the terrains of the earth in an instant.
Chiara found herself holding a single tree with both hands, gasping. She fell back, landing on her butt in cool, soft grass. She was in a park. Trew emerged from the tree. She carried a bundle of clothes.
“You seem impoverished, child. Accept this charity,” Trew said.
Trew stood up. She accepted the clothing. Trew vanished. Chiara became aware of others. There were people walking around, their heads lost in what appeared to be cellphones. No one seemed to notice her at all. Her feelings were hurt that no one noticed an attractive, naked female. She was tempted to just walk naked. She got dressed. The blue jeans went on with some effort. She had to jump to pull them up. No panties. She zipped carefully. The grey, pullover sweater went on easier. She liked the feel of it against her breasts, and was surprised how well formed they seemed without a bra. When she sat down to put on the bobby socks and shoes, she felt something hard in her pocket. She pulled out case that opened to sunglasses. Cellphonesunglasses. Written on the inner lid were the words, “This is not real.” She laughed. She sat it down, put on socks and shoes, picked up the fake cellphone and put them on. They worked just like old, non-smart sunglasses. She orientated. The city seemed in ruins, and no one in sight seemed to even care. All they could see were there cellphones.
“Okay, Jon,” Chiara said, sighing. “What would you recommend if you were still with me?”
In her head she heard the stirrings of a song. It wasn’t Neal Diamond, but it was unmistakably his “Forever in blue jeans.” Chiara nearly laughed.
“Yeah, that sounds like you,” Chiara said.
She picked a direction and started walking.
निनमित
‘Orwellian Hall’ was a large domed building that seemed to defy physics. Gutted of all it’s original artifacts, and its present artifacts, one might feel as if they were in the perfect cave- ideal for singing and hearing, and as you roamed, the quality of the sound experienced positionally. It had once been the capital building, but now belonged to Friborg. It was lit the way a theatre is lit. The entire inner surface of the dome was divided into frames of people, talking heads, ‘selfies’ in the progress of being made, landscapes being covered, kittens being recorded, puppies frolicking, beach walking, bicycle cams, baby cams, faces of agony, news reporters, storm chases, lightening, snow, snakes eating gods, earthquakes, birds and planes, dragons, protesters, riot police, and everything but Lenny Bruce was visible. Center of the dome was a pedestal, with Sauron’s eye projecting the images onto the surface of the dome. Fribourg paced in a circle around the monolithic pedestal. The entire room was comprised of stations where people monitored individuals or groups. They were lined in concentric circles spreading out from the Pedestal of Sauron. There were four straight paths in and out of the center, but lots of circuitous routes around stations were available, and those pathways were used by troopers relieving others, or bringing food and drink. One might expect the floor to be brightly illuminated with as much light being projected onto the dome’s surface, but the floor was surprisingly dark. Stations were softly illuminated islands. Keyboards has soft key glows, and monitors were clear glass with holographic displays that could be visible or invisible due to perspective.
“What’s taking so long?” Fribourg said.
His inner circle of people were strangely quiet, looking busy. Facial recognition software scanned crowds of people. Cellphone cams were not the only cams being utilized. There were drones in the air. There were bugs, and mice, and even puppy cams being utilized. Cats and dogs were being hijacked left and right. Dogs licking toilet bowls and rushing to lick a human face were identified on screen. These individuals were tagged as shit-faced.
“Where are they?!”
“There are still a lot of blind sports on the surface,” one of the techs said.
“Bring in all the birds, all the fish, bring in everything,” Fribourg said.
“We don’t yet have capacity for all of that,” Sleiman interjected. “We’ll crash the system.”
“What the hell am I paying you for! Print more crystals,” Fribourg said.
“We’re at capacity,” Sleiman said. “You can’t rush production. One bad crystal could bring the entire network down.”
“Fuck,” Fribourg said.
“Maybe they went to the moon. Or another planet,” someone said.
Friborg leaned into her desk and stared at her. “Do you want to be harassed on the job?
Keep making stupid statements,” he said. He paced. “Immediate Hyperspaces has been warped.
They’re only escape has to be on the surface.”
“Um, Master?” a tech said. “I found a snow-circle formation. North pole.”
Friborg rushed the station. He studied it and then slapped the back of the man’s head.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Master?”
“It’s old,” Fribourg said. “Anyone with half an eye could see that.”
“But…”
Fribourg pushed a button on his wrist, and the tech screamed, fell to the floor. It was not clear if the person was dead or unconscious. Troopers carried them away. A person from the next ring was promoted to the inner ring. All along the line, people were promoted, and last row was provided a new recruit. The girl newly promoted woman was shaking. Fribourg comforted her by brushing her hair with his hands. He pulled on it gently.
“You’re a smart girl. You made it to the inner circle,” Fribourg said. “Impress me.”
“Um, well, maybe they arrived in the Underworld?” she said.
Fribourg turned to Sleiman. He did exaggerated hand gestures.
“We don’t have eyes in the Underworld,” Sleiman said.
“Why the hell not?!” Fribourg said.
“The Underground compartmentalized factions using a variety of tech, all of which is not compatible with ours,” Sleiman said.
“They’re all frequency based,” Fribourg said. “Just tap in. Go on! Type like mad and make me think you’re doing something useful!”
“It doesn’t work that way!”
Fribourg’s hand went to his wrist controller.
“On it,” Sleiman said, finding a burst of speed to his typing.
Fribourg walked down three stations to a man who was using two fingers to type. He took a device out of his pocket and jabbed the man in the arm. A moment later the man was typing at normal speeds.
“Anyone else need a typing app? Speak up, or it won’t be the only thing I upload in you,” Fribourg said. “I need that Goddess Ring, folks!”
“Why?”
Fribourg turned back to his inner circle. The new girl had spoken. She was shivering. He stormed up to her station.
“Why? WHY?!” Fribourg said. “Because there is code in there I need to unlock the singularity block.”
“Yeah, I get it, but the Goddess ring, if I understand the history of it correctly, is simply a memory artifact of Jon and Loxy’s original interaction on this planet,” she said.
Friborg didn’t disagree with her. He contemplated the obvious statement with an amused, bewildered Wilder-as-Wonka meme that populated the internet with a variety of captions that were all equally amusing, even the one about exploding kittens.
“Go on,” Fribourg said.
“Well, the diamond is just a static, holographic imprinting of Jon/Loxy’s memory,” she said. “You have Jon. His brain holds the same memories. And, Loxy was originally a tulpa, which means she resides in his brain, and so any real world Loxy experiences are also captured in that inner personality interface, so why not just hook Jon up to the interface and unlock the block on singularity?”
Fribourg stared at her, eyes wide, a bit dubious, a bit arrogant and a hinting of wanting to explode. No one in the inner circle spoke. The sound of typing seemed to accelerate. Troopers began hovering, expectantly.
“Stand up, please,” Fribourg said.
The woman stood. She was clearly shaking. She self-consciously adjusted her skirt down.
Her uniform was black and gray and could be modern day office attire.
“Step back, please,” Fribourg said.
The woman stepped back from the terminal. He walked around her. He touched the small of her back as he came around and she nearly bolted, but managed to hold still. He brought an arm up to reveal the bracelet.
“You do know what this is, right?”
“The giver of pleasure and pain,” she said. “TOS, season 3, episode one, Spock’s Brain.”
Friborg frowned. “What’s your name?” “Glenda,” she said.
“No, really, what’s your name?” Fribourg asked.
She bit her lip. “Honest. Glenda Seymour.”
“Well, slap my ass and call me Oz. You’re now my number one, Glenda,” Fribourg said.
“Troopers?! Bring Jon to the interrogation room. Sleiman.”
“Please don’t kill me!”
“Kill you? I am not going to kill you. Admonish you, yes. Watch more Trek. The original stuff. Not the new, Dystopian future shit. We’re making better worlds here,” Fribourg said.
“Like in Firefly,” Glenda said.
“Exactly, only better,” Fribourg said.
“So you’re not going to kill me?” Sleiman asked.
“No. Hell, Discovery and Picard will make you wish you were dead, but I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy, or even Jon,” Fribourg said. “Glenda, with me… Deck Officer, there’s a vacancy here.”
People were promoted and shifting chairs even as Glenda followed. Fribourg stopped to drop a person and continued on even as the troopers were cleaning the mess and people were being promoted. It wasn’t obvious that the person had done anything wrong, other than having been too close to Fribourg as he passed.
निनमित
Kea woke. She sat up. There was a campfire going. Everyone but Loxy was asleep. Kea stood up. She tried to orientate, but couldn’t see beyond the firelight. The grass was cool. She was barefoot. Loxy was sitting on a log facing a fire.
“My shoes?”
“Can’t wear shoes here. It’s sacred ground,” Loxy said. Loxy offered her a cup. It seemed to come out of nowhere. “Come, sit by me.”
“Are we still in that place?” Kea asked.
“No,” Loxy said. “We’re in normal space/time. We’re in the Underground.”
Kea turned about, looking for threats. She walked to the perimeter of the fire’s light.
“I wouldn’t venture out of the light just yet,” Loxy said.
Kea came back.
“Why?”
“You’re not ready,” Loxy said. “We’re being orientated.”
“Why is everyone sleeping?” Kea asked.
“We’re being orientated, getting our bearings. Only one of you can be awake at a time,” Loxy said.
“You’re awake,” Kea said.
“I am,” Loxy said. She held up the cup, handle out.
Kea stood there, defiant. Loxy smiled and let go of the cup. It didn’t fall. Kea was compelled to take it, as if preventing the fall that wasn’t happening. She seemed confused. She sat down next to Loxy and looked at the fire, holding the cup. Her knees broke through her dress, but she didn’t feel the need to adjust. From holding the cup she brought it up to smell the contents. She sipped. She found both hands holding the cup, looking into it. She looked at it as if it were alien, yet pleasant, and more- she wanted to comment on it but didn’t.
“What is this place?” Kea said.
“The Underground?” Loxy asked. “It is vastly deep, with layers and levels. There are more varied landscapes and cityscapes underground than are reflected on the surface. Some of the levels over lap. We’re kind of in a waiting place.”
Kea chuckled. “Doctor Seuss.”
“Oh, the places we will go…” Loxy agreed.
Kea shed a single dropped, but they were contained. “I want to cry.”
“Emotions are tempered here,” Loxy said.
“Why?” Kea said.
“Well,” Loxy mused. “Complicated. We don’t exist in a vacuum. The air here is peaceful. The drink you’re drinking, it’s soothing. The grass here is grounding. The dark brings on sleep. The fire sheds warmth. The very context of this place as being sacred brings a layer of peace. Notice how softly we’re speaking- as if the voice that can be had here is a whisper. Underground. Under-pressure. It will take considerable conscious effort to access things. Things are contained.”
“What things? We are still the same…”
“You are the same and different. If the environment changes, you must change- you adapt, change, or die. Things move much slower in the Underground,” Loxy said.
Kea struggled with it. She wanted to run, but found she only had the strength to look at her cup. She wanted to identify what she was drinking, but the word of it escaped her.
“You mean like that physics concept? The greater the gravity, the slower time moves?” Kea asked.
“Nice,” Loxy said. “What do you know about that?”
“Surely we’re not deep enough to notice a time lag between here and the surface…”
Loxy didn’t speak. She found a stick and prodded the fire. It protested. Embers shifted. Sparks flew in slow motion like bees that had been drugged.
“I am feeling overwhelmed,” Kea said.
“Underwhelmed,” Loxy corrected.
“If we stay here we will die,” Kea said.
“If you stay anywhere long enough you will die,” Loxy said.
“But…”
“You like to read…”
“No, I don’t,” Kea said. A compulsion to explain how she was so well read bubbled out of her. “I was given stuff…” She stopped short of saying against my will.
“Downloads,” Loxy agreed.
Kea almost laughed. “I am not a psychic. People read to me.”
“Rip Van Winkle?”
“Washington Irving… Wait. If we sleep here, we’ll return to the surface a hundred years later.”
Loxy smiled. “Space/time is freakier than people realize…”
“Again, we’re not deep enough. Even if you went to the core…”
“The Underground is vastly deeper than you have measured,” Loxy said. “Not just a metaphor. There is a universal ‘up and down.’ Particles and planets have polarity. Solar systems, galaxies, even the universe itself has an orientation. Yeah, maybe a blood cell doesn’t know up from down as it winds its way through a body, but it still affected by a greater reality.”
“Tay?”
“Tay,” Loxy said.
More tears came. “I love her so much.” “I see,” Loxy said.
“I messed up,” Kea said.
“Yeah,” Loxy said.
Kea looked at her. “You don’t understand.”
“We are in the underground,” Loxy said.
Kea’s attempt to hold emotions was disrupted. “I don’t think that means what you’re implying.”
“Tell me what I am implying,” Loxy invited. She brought a cup out of nowhere and joined Kea in drinking.
“I can’t go back home,” Kea said.
“You cannot,” Loxy agreed.
“I want to raise Tay. I want to watch her grow,” Kea said.
“Yeah,” Loxy agreed.
Kea tried to raise enough murderous energy to stand and attack Afansy. All she could do was glare at him, apparently sleeping peacefully.
“Holding that is what got you here. It’s taking you further from where you want to be,” Loxy said.
“What do you care?!” Kea said. It was the greatest level of volume and emotion she had yet been able to muster.
“We’re on the path together, for a moment. Our paths will diverge, and so we have this much time to alter each other’s course,” Loxy said.
“I am to be punished for all time for…”
“For an action that was most likely a fight or flight response, un-meditated, situationally and contextually activated, not your fault…” Loxy said.
“And yet, I am being punished…”
“The cage you were in was of your own making,” Loxy said. “The door wasn’t locked.”
“The sky monster would kill anyone who exited the cage,” Kea said.
“The portal home was the pool beneath the cage. All you had to do was fall,” Loxy said.
Kea stared.
“I could have gone home anytime?” Kea asked.
“Yes,” Loxy said.
Disbelief was evident on Kea’s face. She put the cup down. She turned to face Loxy.
“It’s not…” Kea tried to say. She puzzled by the block. She questioned her sanity.
“Isn’t that interesting?” Loxy asked. “The longer you’re here, the less valid your surface scripts become. People underestimate children. The greatest learning curve is birth to six. From six to puberty, kids are either reinforcing the scripts given them, or resisting them. By the time they’re young adults, they are navigating the world on automatic. Most people never get off automatic. Most people never wake up to the fact there are more shades of blue to the sky than their vocabulary allows, or the direct consequence to that- the realization that their vocabulary limits their perception of reality. Hell, just take the clock. We’re all clocks. We have cellular clocks, and body clocks, and psychic clocks, and we’re all operating in different time zones and the fact that we can communicate even half as well as we do is amazing. Almost any adult paying half ass attention will tell you, ‘it seems like time speeds up as I get older.’ You have been borne into the Underground. This is your learning curve. What will you wake up to? What will you carry forwards and what will you let go?”
“I love Tay so much,” Kea said.
“Oh, yay, carry that forwards…” Loxy said.
“I will never see her again…”
“Not as who you were,” Loxy said.
“What does that even mean?”
“We’re all connected, all the time. The best of us the worst of us. Our interaction patterns maintain the structure and script, change the response, you change the pattern. Hold love in greater degrees, let go of anger in greater degrees- the world has no choice but to change…”
“I can’t forget what he did to me. What so many have done to me…”
“Don’t forget,” Loxy said.
“What?”
“Forgetting, amnesia, results in being born again, back into the script, back into the dance of dances,” Loxy said. She snapped her fingers, drawing Kea’s eyes back into focus. “Your error in seeing me, in seeing Jon, is that you think we’re morally superior. We’re not. We are the same. We struggle. We struggle with fear and murderous thoughts and lust and every day requires a level of conscious action to stay out of the script we were given. You think Tae-Ann there is superior because she has political rank and authority? Look at her. She sleeps still. In fact, it is her rank and celebrity status, her years of fortifying her own guru nature that will make her journey to waking the most difficult of this lot.”
“You and Jon are superior. He’s the Emissary. You’re the consort,” Kea said.
Loxy laughed. “I am the Emissary. Jon’s the concubine.”
Kea seemed angry. “The hell he is.”
“I am the Master, Jon is the student,” Loxy said. “He called me into being by the simple virtue of being ready. He wanted to love in better ways.”
“I am confused,” Kea said.
“Oh, yay,” Loxy said.
“What?”
“Confusion means you’re examining your contextual syntax which influences your responses. Seeking clarity refines your response by seeking reciprocity in understanding,” Loxy said.
“I am tired,” Kea said.
“Go lay down,” Loxy said. “I will watch over you.”
Kea got up and returned to the spot where she had been sleeping. She laid down. She looked at Loxy.
“Will Tay be okay?”
“She is living her story,” Loxy said. “Dream and follow it.”
Kea’s eyes closed. Cockburn’s eyes opened. He stood up. He observed the group asleep and then notice Loxy. She was holding a cup up to him. He accepted without thought and sat by her. The cup that had been Kea’s was no longer visible. Maybe it continued in another frame. Maybe Loxy magically collected it, cleaned, and stored it. It was just gone, or Cockburn might have kicked it over as he approached.
“Did anyone ever tell you, you resemble Hannah Kleit?” Cockburn asked.
“All the time,” Loxy said. “And Meg Myers.”
“Who is Meg Myers?”
निनमित
Jon found himself in a Meg Myers video. Only it wasn’t Meg. It was Loxy. Loxy walking a street, coming to his home- seemingly abandoned. It felt like a modern house, provided that modern house was also haunted. He was the ghost calling her. He likened the experience to being just a two dimensional ghost on a screen, an actor who was calling for help and love. Someone in the audience heard that call, realize the genuine nature of the suffering- and inserted herself into the story. A real person walking a deserted street, a ghostly house. There was no information on the other audience members, whether they cared or not. The theatre was full, but had he broken out of the screen into the theatre- he would have found bizarrely empty. But he was the ghost, the trick of light. Loxy was real- entering into the mirage. She entered the house, drawing out the wetness with each step. Was that her wetness? Was she the water flowing?
Myers reminded Jon of Coldplay and Nickleback. She brought an edge to sensuality the way Guns and Roses made Paul McCartney’s song, ‘Live and Let Die’ make sense. The lyrics “baby, I want to fuck you” was startling and arousing in surprising ways. Her surrendering to his ghostly presence gave her flight. The scene that unfolded was convoluted and latest hours expressed in seconds. She leaves the house all too soon, leaving it dryer than it was. He is unable to follow. The door is left open, but he can’t leave this house. She has gone back to the world while his movie existence continues one frame at a time, yet experienced in chunks called ‘scenes.’
The dream was disrupted. He woke with a start and found himself on a floor. It was hard and shiny black. He stood up. There were five lights mys