The Reality Incursion Page 4

  Again, Darak held his gaze, gently waiting for comprehension to arrive. It didn’t take long.

  “Did you change my body for each local condition? How?”

  “In normal travel, the local starstep alters the physiology and appearance of the traveler as required. I simply read the programmed pattern as we arrived and made the changes myself. A bit of a nuisance, really. I could have just kept us in a protective bubble as we travelled; that would have been easier. But I thought our visits would be more useful if we adapted to local conditions.”

  “Is it like that everywhere in the Realm?”

  “Yes, but with good intent. The illusion of Standard Life maintained through the perceptual filter of the lattice minimizes prejudice in the Realm. It would be harder to do if people traveled more. Sadly, it also prevents the appreciation of diversity. I’m not sure it’s a good trade-off.”

  “But it’s a lie!”

  Darak laughed aloud. “Of course it’s a lie. Our whole civilization is built upon lies. Most are. The real question is whether the lies are necessary and whether the benefits outweigh the damages.”

  Stralasi felt his conceptual universe spinning again. He wasn’t sure he could take anymore. His eyes scanned the small wooded clearing where they’d arrived. “So what does this really look like?”

  “Actually, this planet happens to be unusually similar to Earth, I mean, Origin. So the lattice isn’t filtering anything right now.”

  Relieved, Stralasi sat on a nearby stump. Here, at least, he would be able to enjoy nature the way it was meant to be enjoyed. He watched the bugs and birds fly among the grasses and trees. He could hear the trickle of a brook behind the trees and knew the water would be sweet and clear. He allowed himself to relax and thought back over some of the places he and Darak had visited. This time, the memories washed over him without their previous repugnance.

  In that moment, Stralasi came to a new understanding and appreciation of Alum’s wisdom, even if he wasn’t certain he agreed with it.

  5

  Darian Leigh, the lattice-enhanced boy wonder, the inventor of the Reality Assertion Field, the most brilliant mind ever to walk the face of the Earth, the “man who would be God”—according to the more disparaging reports—was missing.

  That the RAF generator and Larry were also gone without a trace was less prominent in the reporting.

  The controversy that accompanied Darian and his work escalated when word of his unexplained disappearance surfaced. Chatter and speculation began within hours of police involvement and refused to die down, even weeks later. Greg and Kathy did their best to ignore the ugly rumors and focus on building a second RAF generator. Their lab notes were gone, but Kathy had the schematics in her head, thanks to her lattice.

  Pulling them out was a lot harder than it had been before Darian’s “sharing” of himself. Where her hands once moved deftly across printed-circuit boards and keyboards, they now hesitated. She struggled to access her memories of the design and ignore everything not directly related to the RAF generator.

  “They’re driving me crazy, all these little bits and pieces of Darian’s thoughts on new RAF theory directions, dendy virus designs, random equations drifting into sight from out of nowhere and demanding I follow them. As soon as I give in and pay the least attention to the intrusions, they change or dissolve away. I don’t know what to do with this. I’m losing my mind,” she complained to Greg, knowing he couldn’t help her.

  While Kathy painstakingly retrieved the generator schematics and assembled the hardware, Greg tackled his own scrambled lattice memories. If I can recreate the data that was stored on the stolen laptop, maybe we can find some clue as to what happened to Darian and Larry.

  Like Kathy, he found the process maddening. One second he’d be dumping their most recent version of the Feynman diagrams for virtual quarks into the server, and the next second he’d be reminiscing about Darian’s childhood years in Boston.

  Whenever they tried to access the internet, their conceptual integrity was overwhelmed by a fresh surge of fragments from Darian’s mind, along with the disjointed associations that each of those pieces triggered.

  They spent their days and nights in fear of letting down their guard and introducing further madness into their psyches. They knew they needed a long, isolated vacation to rest and to apply some order to the scattered bits of their mentor's thoughts, but there was no time for that now. They pushed on resolutely and slept when they could.

  The worst onslaught hit after a particularly long and exhausting day. Worn out, Greg fell into bed and slipped into one of the deepest sleeps he'd had in weeks.

  The next thing he knew, Kathy was shaking him awake from a horrific nightmare. He fought his way to consciousness, writhing, soaked in sweat, and choking on a scream.

  He bolted upright. Chills swept up and down his spine. His eyes scanned the room, searching for danger. Finally accepting that he was at home, safe in his own bed, he relaxed.

  Kathy switched on the bedside lamp. “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “Oh, wow, that was a doozy,” he replied, still trying to catch his breath. He stuffed his pillow behind him and flopped back against it. His breath whooshed out along with the air in the polyester stuffing.

  “It was so real, so detailed. I was working at my lab bench on some new project, something to do with genetic engineering. It was like I was right there. I could feel the pipettor in my hands; I could smell the chemicals. I looked up and there was a big spider watching me. No big deal. I grabbed my lab book and smacked it.

  “Then I noticed another one eyeing me from behind the containers of buffers on the shelf above the bench, and a third one sitting beside the vacuum inlet near the bench sink.

  “I was creeped out but curious, too. I remember thinking, ‘That’s weird. How’d they get in here?’ and wondering what to do about them. Then there was a kind of skittering sound behind me.”

  Greg cocked his head as if still trying to identify it, and shivered. “I turned around and there were dozens of them. Hundreds of them. They covered the bench top.

  “I freaked out. I just froze, and they stopped moving, too. They didn’t budge, not one of them. It was like they were waiting for me to make the first move. I stood there staring at them like an idiot. I could see my silhouette reflecting back at me from hundreds of beady little eyes. It was so strange. I couldn’t look away.

  “And they had these really long, spiny, front legs. They started rubbing them together and—I swear, Kath—I could hear the sound they made. I could hear them. It was like some kind of music, some kind of communication or something.

  “I was thinking, ‘That's not normal spider behavior. Spiders don't make sounds by rubbing their legs together.’ I was confused, but I wasn’t going to stick around and puzzle it out. I edged toward the exit, real slow and quiet so I wouldn’t spook them, but it didn’t work.

  “Spiders started pouring off the shelves and benches. I could hear their bodies hitting the floor. It sounded like rain.

  “They came after me, and I ran into the hallway and slammed the door behind me. By the time I caught my breath, spiders were already trying to get through the space under the door. It was awful. They kept coming, like some kind of scrabbling, black tide.

  “I jumped back and ran down the hall, but they were so fast. They were definitely after me; there was no doubt.

  “I ducked inside the first open room I found, grabbed handfuls of paper towel from the dispenser, and started jamming them under the door as fast as I could.”

  “That’s awful! No wonder you woke up screaming,” Kathy said.

  “That’s not the worst of it. I was stuffing paper like crazy and then, clear as a bell, someone said, ‘What are you doing with that?’ I almost had a heart attack right there, but when I turned around, it was Larry. I’ve never been so glad to see him in all my life.

  “I started yelling. ‘Get over here and help me with this. You won't believe what's
out there!’ And I kept stuffing paper towels in the gap.

  “But his voice stopped me cold, Kath. It was eerie and calm, and just as scary as the spiders. ‘I have a better idea,’ he said, and that’s when the nightmare got really bizarre.”

  Kathy grimaced. “What could be more bizarre than an army of spiders?”

  “A huge gray bubble appeared all around me, and trapped me inside. No matter how hard I pushed and kicked, it wouldn't break or budge. It started shrinking and I had to crouch down, smaller and smaller, until I was squished into a fetal position.

  “And suddenly, Lucius Pratt, Reverend LaMontagne, and President Sakira were all standing outside the bubble with Larry, and they started laughing and pointing at me.”

  “Well, I can tell you what a therapist would say about that,” Kathy joked. Her attempt to lighten the mood barely registered with Greg. “Sorry, hon. I couldn’t resist. Continue; I’m listening.”

  “The laughter got louder, and some other people were there. I’ve never met them in real life, but I knew who they were, all partners in the company that Darian’s mom started: Nick Franti, David Arnell, and Sharon Leigh, herself. They were all laughing, except Sharon. She looked horrified, like she was in pure agony, and that’s when I realized—She’s not watching me die; she’s watching her son, Darian, die. In the dream, I was Darian.

  “The bubble kept shrinking and nobody was trying to do anything to stop it. I kept shouting at them, ‘Why are you doing this?’ and all they did was laugh. I pushed, and kicked, and pleaded, but the sphere kept shrinking until it was crushing me. I couldn't move or breathe, and the next thing I knew, you were shaking me and I was screaming myself awake. I know it was just a dream but it was so real. And so strange. Some of the things I saw were from my memories, and some were from Darian’s. I couldn’t tell them apart; it was all just me.”

  Greg flipped back the damp, tangled sheet and staggered into the bathroom. He could feel Kathy’s worried eyes tracking him. He shut the door and leaned over the sink. His heart was still pounding. He placed his hands on the counter for support and let the moonlight streaming in through the narrow window wash over him.

  Deep breath in. Deep breath out. He looked in the mirror. Darian’s pained features, distressed and haggard, looked back.

  “Agh!” Greg snapped on the bathroom light. The face in the mirror was his again but Darian’s features lingered like a distressing apparition.

  It’s okay; you’re still half asleep—he told himself. He knew otherwise.. Me and Darian, one and the same? He squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated.

  It’s okay. I am me. I am me. I am me, and everything’s going to be okay. He wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince: himself, his dendy lattice, or Darian, who lurked even now, at the edges of his consciousness.

  “Honey, are you okay?” Kathy’s voice drifted in.

  Greg opened his eyes. His own worried face looked back in the mirror. A trembling laugh escaped his lips. I am me.

  He sensed how thin and tenuous the line separating normal from insane could be, and how easy it was to cross when dreams invaded reality. He took a deep, shaky breath, looked once more into the sink, and tentatively raised his eyes to verify his identity. Okay, we’re good. Still me.

  “Uhh…yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Be right out.”

  He splashed a little cold water on his face, patted dry with the soft hand towel, and padded back to bed. The fright left him more resolved than ever to keep up his guard against the onslaught from Darian—what used to be Darian—until he and his lattice could better adapt and accommodate, or at least, to partition him off.

  Welcome to the next level—he said to himself. He and Kathy had been creating harmless mental games and viruses to develop their skills and to practice sparring with one another’s lattices ever since they took the dendy virus.

  This, whatever it was they were receiving from Darian, was a huge leap beyond anything they’d ever created. This was more in the realm of the “what-if-you-could” games of wild speculation they toyed with over a few beers. Nothing had prepared him for this.

  If tonight was any indication, there was good cause to be concerned about what was in store for their mental health over the coming weeks.

  * * *

  Two weeks later, Kathy and Greg had the new hardware up and running. They would continue the programming from home. With any luck, getting away from the many cues around the lab and campus that sparked Darian’s old memories would give them a bit of a reprieve.

  “It’ll be a nice change to work out of the apartment or one of the neighborhood cafes,” Kathy said. “The view is much better.”

  Greg agreed. It would feel good to get away from the lab, the office, and the campus, away from all the reminders of Darian. Even a few days away would be a welcome relief.

  They got set up at home and settled into a new routine. Kathy entered most of the code into the system, and Greg took Larry’s place as chief tester and cappuccino fetcher.

  Ten days later, a call from Campus Security burst any illusions they might have harbored about resuming a normal life.

  6

  Darak scouted around the clearing. Satisfied with what he found, he extracted a small marble from his robe.

  “This looks like as good a place as any to set up camp.”

  “Do you mean, we won’t be staying at the Alumita Hostel tonight?” Brother Stralasi asked.

  “No, I think we could use one night away from civilization. Don’t you?”

  “I haven’t camped in ages. It might be nice. Unfortunately, we don’t have a tent or sleeping rolls.”

  Darak placed the marble on the ground and stood back to give it room to expand. Within seconds, it was a meter across and growing.

  As Stralasi watched, a miniature tent, some stools, and a storage box emerged inside the milky interior. When it reached five meters in diameter, the outline of the sphere faded away. A ready-made campsite, complete with dried wood inside a fire pit, lay before them. With a small pop, the wood ignited into a smokeless campfire.

  The Good Brother clasped his hands together in childlike delight. “Is there no end to your magic?”

  “Actually, this is just a bit of newer technology mixed with a bit of older and simpler technology. I’ve carried this camping equipment around for quite a while.”

  “Wasn’t it heavy?”

  “Well, that’s the advanced technology, the magic, as you call it. I shrunk the electron orbitals to make everything smaller and altered their Higgs field interactions to remove the effective mass, making it easy to carry wherever I go. You never know when it might be preferable to camp out.” He smiled and stepped into the campsite. “Anyway, I’m hungry. Would you like to eat?”

  Stralasi was dumbfounded by the meaningless technical explanation, but he did feel his stomach growling. “Yes, I’m famished. Shall we pop into a restaurant in town?”

  “No need. The larder is completely provisioned.” Darak pointed to the storage box. “Did I mention that everything was held in molecular stasis while stored in the marble? The food you’re about to enjoy is older than anything you’ve ever known except for, perhaps, the stars and the planets. Nevertheless, I guarantee it will be as fresh and delicious as if it were prepared moments ago.”

  Darak opened the chest and the odors of hot food, scrumptious as any Stralasi had ever smelled, wafted out. The Good Brother’s mouth watered. He perched gingerly on one of the small stools, eager to discover what fine repast the magic would deliver.

  Darak swung the lid of the storage box between them, creating a makeshift table. He pulled a feast out of the container: rolls filled with spicy meats, exotic steamed vegetables, garlic shrimp, a poultry and nut dish, and more. He gestured for Stralasi to help himself, and the Brother dug in heartily.

  An hour later, the two men sat on benches staring into the campfire as the sun set behind the trees. Darak pulled out a few more logs to feed the flames from the seemingly bottomless storage
box. He sighed as he poked at the firewood. This was the most relaxed he’d seen Brother Stralasi since they’d left Alumston on Gargus 718.5. Understandably—he thought. The man has been through a lot.

  Stralasi picked up a stick and held one end in the fire until it burst into flame. “Don’t you have to visit the Integration Lab for your secret project tonight?”

  The question drew Darak from his pleasant lethargy. “Perhaps while you’re sleeping.” “I won’t ask you again to explain what your project’s all about, but could you tell me if it has something to do with your opposition to Alum’s Divine Plan?”

  Darak stared at the dancing flames without answering for so long that Stralasi began to think the man hadn’t heard him. He was about to repeat the question when the other man sighed.

  Darak said, “My opposition, as you call it, remains uncertain. I have made a few inquiries and some preparations; nothing has been set in motion.”

  “Why not?”

  “Alum’s Realm has done a lot of good for humanity. Before He assumed permanent leadership, humanity had a history of brutal war, greed, and devastation. I hope His mind can be changed from His ultimate plan for the universe. Until my inquiries are complete and I have spoken with him, my opposition will remain inactive.”

  Stralasi could accept that for now. He had come to the conclusion Darak was neither a Shard of God nor a demon, simply an odd and powerful other. As for whether Darak could best Alum in a direct confrontation, that remained to be seen, although he rather doubted the man had powers equal to the Living God.

  “Tell me about your travels before you came to Gargus 718.5.” Stralasi’s request surprised them both.

  “My experiences are difficult to describe.”

  “Please, indulge me.”

  Relenting, Darak shifted on his bench and settled in to tell his story. “Okay, you remember when we first met, I told you that I came to Gargus 718.5 from the Da’arkness beyond the Realm and that I had traveled beyond the edge of the universe? All of that is true.