Chapter Thirteen

Panopticon/Pool

March 21, Wednesday. 6.24A.M. 215 S.A

In some restricted space on Another Earth.

B.K. was still leaning against the gold-colored wall, with embossed decoration that seemed to resemble somekind of circuit board. He had been doing the same thing for the last few minutes and his eyes exhibited tiny sparkles as he looked up.

"Tch... that idiot. I hope he left it out," he said angrily, and clicked his tongue looking down, as his eyes returned to normal, cutting off the call that had gone unanswered.

After accepting the invitation, which had arrived at his secret location, he had been pondering whether or not to attend, but curiosity had gotten the better of him. After carefully analyzing the security code he had come to the conclusion that his invitation had a special encryption system designed just for him. Whoever the other guests were, they had surely been assigned their own codes as well.

Still, whoever was organizing the whole thing was someone B.K. knew. But he was not happy about it. But, still, what he had seen in the codes of the gematria cubes was more than enough for him to decide to attend.

After creating a restoration copy, for any eventuality that might occur, he had finally left his physical body and transported his consciousness to the enclosed space where he had been invited.

He arrived at the building by connecting from his own network, but he didn't like to think what he would find inside. He should have sent the message earlier, but the truth is that the time issue didn't matter anymore.

What was done was done. There was no turning back. In fact, if everything was as he had seen in the cubes. Whatever had to happen from then on had to happen anyway.

He walked up the massive stairs, away from where he was leaning, and shuffled his feet up, to the only door that awaited him on top. The only one that led anywhere in the whole labyrinthine place.

The structure of the whole building seemed to be built with Escher's paradoxical architecture, with staircases in the same style of decoration as the walls. But there were parts of glass and the light from outside came in through huge windows. Depending on an observer's point of view, the structures seemed to change and lead nowhere.

Those stairs, doors and structures actually looked normal to anyone viewing the space from the outside, but they were a trap. Anyone who did not have their invitation would be refused entry to the enclosed space. And in case they tried to crack the system to enter, what they would find would be a veritable endless number of other meaningless lines of code and corridors that led nowhere. A real labyrinth.

What B.K. saw was a virtual manifestation of paradoxical architecture, but to someone else it would only look like a gibberish of disjointed and meaningless codes. Unless a special invitation had been extended to the place, it would not end well for an invader's conscience.

"Very convenient," B.K. said.

When he reached the top, the sliding door opened and showed him a tall coral-colored elevator, whose walls changed, exhibiting cubic fractal patterns. But inside someone was waiting for him.

"Mr. B.K., we've been expecting you," a woman greeted.

"Y-11," greeted B.K. "Save the protocol. I had no choice after all."

Y-11 made a sort of bow, with her long hand and stepped aside, letting B.K. pass.

Y-11's size contrasted with B.K.'s. She was a woman who must have been at least a little over six feet tall, with an extremely slender appearance and long limbs. She had not a single hair on her head and had alabaster black skin with fine features, and she had light blue eyes. She wore a long white dress, with gold trim on the top, and the bottom of the dress was a more turquoise shade, although it had a distinctly modern touch in its design, made of iridescent fabric.

The door closed but, from the inside, it became transparent, offering them the infinite landscape of paradoxical architecture. The building seemed to have no end. Gehirn could feel every part of his own code being scanned at that moment.

The truth is that the whole landscape and scenery was nothing more than an unjustified aesthetic taste of his host, as he took the trouble to scan the newcomers.

"Your boss sure likes to show off," B.K. said.

"I apologize," Y-11 said, in a soft tone, "it is necessary for our activities."

"How many are there?"

"All the Awakened Ones."

B.K. looked at her, with a serious gesture.

"There will be nothing to fear, don't worry."

"The Queen Bee is there too?"

Y-11 smiled and nodded.

"We're all the old-timers then, gathered in one place."

"The event warrants it."

"Bullshit. This is just so your boss can show off." B.K. looked at her. "No offense."

"None taken."

The elevator finally stopped, and the inside darkened, only for the door to open and B.K. could finally see where he'd stepped in.

"This has gone from a surveillance matrix to a show matrix," B.K. said, looking around and shook his head.

B.K. stepped out of the elevator, into what must have been just the donut-pod he had been assigned at the event. No one looked at him or said anything at his arrival, though. B.K. simply sat in his place and looked at the panel in front of his seat, while Y-11 withdrew. There must have been more than a thousand donut-pods in the place. And in each one there seemed to be someone sitting, but no one paid attention to him. The whole place was a gigantic sphere, almost like a stadium. And with all the donut-pods pointing in the same direction.

Towards the center.

In the center of the place there was a giant sphere, that was projecting changing scenes every second. And, within that layer of images, something else in the center. A simulation of the sun.

The projected images showed events from all over the world, and numerical codes on screens scrolling at incredible speed. There was all kinds of information, and it seemed that some of it came from very distant times, so it could be deduced that many of those things were not news of something that was happening at the moment. Although B.K. knew that it could be misleading in that case.

News of terrorist events, stock market movements, company stock crashes, assassinations, natural disasters and also some other news that seemed to have no connection whatsoever were displayed on the screens and changed at breakneck speed. But from them, at certain moments, nodes were traced between them that linked them for a moment and then disconnected without any further action.

B.K. watched the images for a few moments, and then looked at the controls of his panel and typing some commands the personal image of the projection changed to that of two cubes intertwined with binary sequences.

 

Almost as soon as his personal image changed, a screen appeared in front of him announcing a telepathic call. B.K. looked around and there he found it.

The host of all that.

Janus was several lines of pods below and, without looking at him,, was smiling at the central sphere through his dark glasses.

Reluctantly B.K. accepted the call, and Janus' voice echoed in his mind.

[In the past it was said that every partner was a watcher. Vigilance is determined by the power of money and information, and what you can do with it. If you see that as a spectacle it's because you're not up to date.]

Just as B.K. had thought, Janus had been watching the arrival of everyone there. And he must have heard what he said when he came out of the elevator. Perhaps the reason Y-11 was there was to serve as an antenna for Janus to better establish a scan of the guest.[I have never been interested in power or anything like that,] B.K replied.

[But you have made use of it. How have you spent so much time hiding from the world and, at the same time, watching what was going on? At the same time you have made use of what this world has created, technology, information. Maybe you have not benefited from it as I have. But to say that you have never been interested in it is a lie. The wars, the deaths, the invasions have always been there, but you have not lifted a finger in your lair, except when it was in your interest. That's called selfishness.]

[Who is the one who has spent time with humans now? Selfishness? No one has ever died because of my intervention.]

[Not directly at least.]

[So you think yours is indirect?]

[No. I know perfectly well that about 230,000 existences have died over the centuries because of my interventions. But it is little compared to losing millions.]

[… ] B.K. looked at him again.

[Don't look at me like that. I know it's a big number, but I did my best to attenuate the number over time. It's been over two hundred years for me. And yet I still rely on them. If I didn't, I wouldn't have left this future in the hands of the past. We would all be dead if every piece had not been in place.]

B.K. just gave him a sidelong glance and said nothing.

[We know the end of this adventure because I was able to control things so that we all got here. But what awaits from Friday onwards is a mystery.]

[You've created a monster to justify this scenario. You even attacked a control station, bastard.]

[What is a monster in a zoo of abnormalities? This world is full of paradoxes, that do not exist, they are just improbabilities. What's wrong with creating sufficient conditions to make a future possible. Whatever the price, it is something worth fighting for.]

[It's a high price.]

[It's much better than knowing that something is going to happen, and doing nothing about it.]

[Even if you know that what's going to happen can be changed? It's too many variables.]

[I think your problem is in assuming that I control all of them. I mean, look at me. I was created solely for the purpose of studying market values and predicting stock movements. I would never have imagined that I would end up in this era and doing this, when there are already algorithms much more efficient than myself. But, still, here am I. Doing something that someone else should have done, and with clues that are even inconclusive.]

B.K. looked at Janus and opened his eyes.

[I see you've noticed,] Janus said, enigmatic, and his gaze fixed on the ever-changing projections within the central sphere.

[This is someone else's scenario?]

Janus smiled wistfully and shrugged his shoulders. [This is a game in which you have your part to play, too.]

B.K. glared at him, but had loosened his angry expression. [Y-11 never sent that invitation by chance. You ordered her to.]

[Exactly.]

[If you haven't controlled all the variables, who is the one who has?]

[No one. The One Who Endures gave me the last clue to this fifteen years ago. But, even he is not the one who created the scenario.]

[Aleister,] B.K. grimaced cynically, and shook his head. [Did you listen to the magician?]

[Don't misunderstand. He just gave me the clues to the missing variables. This is not one of his plans. Everyone plays their part here, all of them, me, you, Aleister.]

[Since when do you trust magic? You've always been methodical.]

[This story is methodical,] slowly, Janus looked at the place where B.K. stood. [No matter which point you choose, the end is the same and so on until the end of time.]

End of time? B.K. though. [What makes you think that?]

[I tried to change events several times over the years, but everything turned out just as Aleister predicted, and is within one of the predicted scenarios. It doesn't matter if there are other ways to reach the same result. Everything has happened just as he predicted.]

[In this universe, at least,] sighed B.K., leaning back in his seat.

[At least, in this universe, in what we call our time.] Janus's eyes sparkled with a mix of intrigue and determination. [We just may be mere fragments of a larger whole, but our individual contributions carry significance. And, as we stand at the precipice of the unknown, let us embrace the uncertainty and fulfill our destinies within this grand design.] Janus said, and looked straight ahead again.

The conversation was cut short by Janus but left a bitter taste and questions for B.K..

He simply snorted and settled back in his chair as his gaze was fixed on the huge central sphere where the images connected and disconnected at all times. Offering an intricate tapestry of events that seemed beyond comprehension.

Let's see what comes of this, thought B.K. resignedly.

***

In some secret location in the Orbital Belt

Clark felt a mixture of weariness and concern weighing heavily upon him.

He moved his bare feet in the pool and saw how his movements expanded and formed ripples with a tired gesture.

He was in a round room that was almost dark, but was surrounded on all sides by long horizontal tubes, and in each one were floating persons wearing masks, with their eyes closed. Almost all of them were old and human but there were some young people as well. The young people were almost all feys.

It was as if they were in a dreamlike state, because of the rapid movement of their pupils and the spasms that ran through their bodies from time to time.

Clark stood in the middle of the room in a circular pool and the bluish light shone on his face.

He didn't look very old and, although his facial features made him look like he was in his early thirties, his tired face added more years than he looked. His dark wavy hair covered his ears and eyes. He was slightly wet because he had just gotten out of the pool and was sitting on the side. A simple soaking wet robe covered his body.

"They've already headed over there."

The sudden voice made him turn around quickly, and his hair spurted droplets of water from the sudden movement, revealing his coal-black eyes.

Behind him was a tall man with short gray hair, blue eyes, and a stubbly beard. He wore a cream-colored suit, with no tie, and the first few buttons undone. His face made it difficult to determine whether he was in his forties or fifties. His face gave him a youthful, yet mature look.

The man moved over to him and bent down with the intention of helping him up.

"No. I'm fine like this. I haven't moved for days, let me get rid of the dizziness first."

The man simply sighed and not caring too much if his suit got wet, sat down near him with his legs stretched out.

"Don't you have other things to do?" Clark asked.

"No."

"You're a pain in the ass Travis, you know?."

"Sorry for bothering you, bastard." Travis said, with a mocking chuckle.

"I wouldn't be surprised if after this Mai sends all of us to hell."

"That's not going to happen as long as the old guys are still there."

"… It's not like we're the young ones exactly."

"So. Did you see anything else?" Travis asked, trying not to pay attention to Clark's scathing comment.

"No. I haven't seen a dream this deep since the war. Everything's black."

"So, it's going to happen."

"That's what scares me the most."

"Which part?"

"All of it. It's a betrayal of the free spirit."

"What free spirit? You look to the future. There is no choice. Gehirn said the same thing before he disappeared."

"If this has to happen for our past to be safe, what does this hold for the future?"

Travis looked at the tubes where the people floated and nodded slightly sternly. "At least for us, as a species, who knows."

"Species? What species?" asked Clark with derision.

"I mean all of us" Clark glanced at Travis out of the corner of his eye and Travis twisted a smile and simply said. "There are no easy answers for that. The truth is, old friend, there are no more rules. Maybe, like Aleister said, there never were in the first place. We are trying to curb the DEs. But the truth is that just maybe it's true what the ancients said about it."

"The Dark Events is nothing more than the beginning of something much bigger, that could happen tomorrow, weeks from now, or billions of years from now," Clark said heavily.

"Indeed. People think we're trying to control them. We're simply buying time for life as we know it to evolve and mold itself to them and not them to us. Our struggle to curb the Dark Events is a testament to our commitment to life itself."

Unless Event Zero is found, Clark thought. "You haven't changed in 500 years, always an idealist just like that girl."

"I don't know if you mean that as an insult, but I'll take it as or compliment," Travis said with a gentle smile.

Clark regarded Travis with a mixture of gratitude and wistfulness. "Call it what you will, my old friend."