Ghost of the Gods - 02 (19 page)

The tank was gone from view and its sounds had almost faded. Mark felt something fundamental had changed outside. A man standing on the sidewalk below him was staring at the institute. An assist showed in orange an entire body saturated with seeds, not just the brain and spinal column. Medical schematics revealed a nervous system throbbing with nanotech and every ounce of blood thickly infused with free-swimming COBIC. One hundred percent of this hybrid’s brain was nanotech. There was something dangerous and otherworldly about the man. Mark had to close his eyes and open them again to make sure this was not an illusion. The man was dressed in a heavy black greatcoat that reached past his knees. He had a very large build and was utterly motionless. While people altered their course to move around him, his presence seemed to barely register on them. No one looked at him and he looked at no one.

Mark somehow realized the hybrid knew he was being watched. The man’s head slowly craned upward and their eyes locked. Mark felt a stronger version of the same pull at the back of his brain that he experienced with Sarah. He had a vague, indescribable sense he’d lost something valuable in the exchange. The hybrid returned his gaze to the institute. Mark had no thoughts of getting any closer or provoking a confrontation. He knew he was staring at something unnatural and infinitely deadly. Instincts kept him firmly rooted.

Wearing a bathrobe, Sarah walked over to Mark and stared out the window with him. He knew she had sensed the presence as he had.

“He’s completely evolved,” said Mark.

“My god…”

“Maybe it is a living god?”

Mark felt his attention falter for what felt like an instant. The world seemed to have stuttered. The hybrid was gone. He could vaguely recall fragmented memories of the man turning and calmly walking away like a ghost. Mark’s memories of the event were fading like a dream in morning sunlight. He could not hold on to them.

“We’ve got to go after him,” said Sarah. “We need answers.”

Before Mark could even respond, Sarah was heading to the door while shrugging on a long coat over her bathrobe and stuffing her Beretta into a pocket. Mark went after her. They reached the street moments later. Mark could see his breath coming in huge white clouds. The street was empty and still in both directions. Nothing was moving except his breath.

“He’s gone,” said Sarah.

“I know.”

“What was that?” she asked as she bent over, a little winded.

“The future…”

Mark Freedman – Montreal – February 13, 0002 A.P.

The Blue Dog smelled of breakfast. Mark and Sarah had both ordered acai bowls. While his body could no longer tolerate any animal protein, thankfully that intolerance did not extend to include his nose. Mark was distracted with memories of what he and Sarah had done in bed last night. For the first time the passion he’d felt for Sarah had gone beyond sexual. It was not love, but she was unimaginably irresistible. The semi-empathic sharing of physical sensations during sex was more addictive than heroin. Her hand was resting on his thigh as their breakfast was delivered. All he could focus on and all he wanted at this moment was her. Below the surface simmered unease about losing so much judgment, but inexplicably that unease seemed to make him want her even more.

All his sexual distraction vanished in an instant. Mark felt a similar fundamental shift in reality as last night. He expected to see the same otherworldly hybrid walk through the front door. Instead, he saw an unassuming man with long hair entering the Blue Dog. Sarah’s fingers gave his thigh a quick squeeze in acknowledgment. The man standing by the doorway was a highly evolved hybrid. He was dressed in blue jeans, a flannel shirt, and a down vest. An assist showed his entire brain was orange with nanotech. Fanning out from the nanotech processing nexus in his skull were orange roots, which extended halfway down his spinal column. The man was more evolved than any hybrid Mark had seen in Chicago, but looked anemic compare to the ghostlike god they had seen last night. The hybrid looked directly at Mark and nodded his head in some kind of recognition. There was no sign of emotion or surprise on his face. Half of Mark wanted to run. The other half was fascinated. The stream of memory capsules from Sarah was filled with panic and preparations to fight. Her hand was no longer squeezing his leg. He knew it was wrapped around one of her Berettas. The hybrid came over to their table and sat down as if invited. Martin came over.

“Hello, Adam. The usual?” asked Martin.

“Good morning, Martin,” said Adam. “The usual would be perfect.”

“I see you’ve made some new friends.”

Martin walked off to deliver the food order. Mark was speechless. He knew Sarah was relaxing and saw both her hands had returned to the top of the table.

“We are very pleased you are not going to kill me,” said Adam. “There has been too much violence between our own kind as of late.”

Mark was curious about what Adam’s speech patterns implied. His diction was oddly formal and old fashioned, while his use of plural instead of singular nouns was simply strange. Mark was unable to pick up any stray thoughts from Adam. He knew from a stream of memory capsules that Sarah was not picking up any emotions. The absence was not because she was being blocked in any way. There was simply nothing there to radiate, as if the man was a machine. As Mark stared at Adam he knew the man’s years belied his appearance—Adam was ancient.

“My name is Mark Edlman. I am a scientist,” said Mark. “This is Sarah, my assistant.”

“There is no need to deceive,” said Adam. “We know who you both are, Professor Freedman. We are here to help before you invite trouble to our doorstep.”

“Sarah and I are hybrids like you,” said Mark. “We would never bring you trouble. All we want is to understand the vortex surrounding the institute.”

“No, you are not like us,” said Adam. “We are very different from you. We are as different from you as you are different from the organics. Why do you call our kind hybrids?”

“We call ourselves hybrids because we are a fusion of human and nanotech machine just like you,” said Mark. “What do you call yourselves?”

“We call ourselves
initiates
.”

“I like that,” said Sarah. “I like the feeling you gave me along with that word.”

“As you sense, we are not devoid of emotions. We conserve everything and waste nothing.”

Mark was very uncertain about this initiate. New doubts kept surfacing. Something was not adding up. He wanted to communicate his concerns to Sarah but was afraid to try. What if Adam could intercept his memory capsules? Or worse: What if Adam could read his stay thoughts?

Adam put his hand on top of Sarah’s. “Initiates such as you two fledglings should not be traveling on your own. You are needlessly putting yourselves at grave risk.”

“What kind of risk?” asked Sarah.

“We cannot speak of it.”

“Then we will remain at risk,” said Mark.

“Please,” said Adam. “This is not a game.”

“We can take care of ourselves,” said Sarah.

She pulled her hands back from Adam’s touch and put them on her lap under the table.

“Yes, we can sense the violence you are capable of inflicting,” said Adam. “At least allow us to share our friendship and hospitality.”

“Are you inviting us to visit the institute?” asked Sarah.

“Yes. We welcome you to our commune.”

“Will we be shown the singularity?” asked Mark.

“I know what you are referring to,” said Adam. “We do not call it a singularity. There is nothing to see. It is pure spirit, but you will perceive it.”

“We will be free to leave?” asked Mark.

“Yes, of course. You must leave. There is much that depends upon your leaving. It would be dangerous for you to stay.”

Mark Freedman – Montreal – February 13, 0002 A.P.

The sensations from the vortex were peaking. Sarah gave Mark’s hand a squeeze. They had just crossed under the arched passageway through the courtyard wall. Adam had stopped talking the moment they crossed the threshold. Some other voice was now inside Mark’s head. He was unable to communicate with Sarah but was very sure the same voice was also inside her head. The voice was a seductive whisper of images and physical sensations. Within it swirled every desire he’d ever felt. His heart was beating fast. His skin felt flushed. Mark stopped walking and held Sarah tightly by the hand. Adam turned and stared with a blank expression. Mark had not intended to take another step, but he did. Adam opened a huge old wooden door. The hinges groaned. Inside, the institute looked like a fortress from the European dark ages. The walls were the same rough-hewn granite as outside. Mark felt even more strongly that he had entered a trap.

The corridor they moved down was dark, ultra-clean, and frigid. Their footfalls were echoing back from the far end. Small overhead lights glowed to life and then dimmed after they walked past. Mark assumed it was to conserve power. Since the entire place was run on solar energy, they had to be very frugal. There was a pattern emerging.

They passed by open rooms along the corridor. These rooms were clearly personal chambers, but were vacant. Mark had seen no one other than Adam. Inside each chamber were all manner of personal items, including clothing but no technology of any kind: no television, tablets, radios, phones, or stereos. Without doors there was also no privacy. The temperature was warming. Mark could smell steam heat in the air. He looked for and finally spotted an ultramodern radiator that was well concealed. They walked past an institutional sized kitchen that was deserted. There were no modern tools, not even a microwave. The huge industrial cast iron grills and ovens looked like they belonged to the age of coal and steam, and might very well have been that old. The only concession to modern technology stood out oddly. In the center of this bygone era was a pair of gleaming stainless steel walk-in refrigerators.

They were approaching a closed door at the end of the corridor. Mark sensed a second vortex ahead of him. It was a full second barrier of thought energy encased inside the outer vortex. An odd idea came to him as if out of the very air he was breathing. This was like the concentric esoteric circles of ancient mystery schools. The inner workings of those schools had been a popular topic among the professors at UCLA with whom he’d socialized. It was a comforting memory from a time before the world had gone insane.

In only a few heartbeats the second vortex was upon him. He could not stop himself from stepping into the ethereal whirlwind. He felt like a sleepwalker whose mind was only awake enough to record what was happening.

As soon as he stepped through the inner vortex the seductive whispers vanished. A double-squeeze from Sarah’s hand confirmed the same was true for her. All his normal faculties and senses returned, only more so. Mark felt like he was hyper-connected to the god-machine. He also had a strong connection to all the members of the commune, though he had not seen one of them. He even knew some of their thoughts. They were all around, mentally observing with little to no interest. Mark now perceived Adam as well as all the other commune members as ghostly thought-forms. It was as if some vital material essence was missing from them, while shining like a star at the center of all those gray thought-forms was Sarah.

Using a memory capsule, Mark asked her if she had the same perceptions. She replied it was the same except that he was the star at the center of all the wraithlike souls she sensed. In the midst of all this confusion, Mark was experiencing a new, stronger presence from the god-machine, but this god-machine felt different. It was hard to explain, but it was as if this god-machine had an alternate personality. In this stronger presence was a very real promise of radically expanded awareness into new realms of knowledge. It was a promise of learning all there was to know about the universe, intelligent life, and even death, but there was a price for this enlightenment. Mark realized the price was surrender and this surrender could lead to the annihilation of individuality. This price was hinted at in the way all the members of the commune thought. They all thought in that strange, plural egoless way that Adam spoke,
we
and
not
I
. This promise of unimaginable knowledge was growing with every step he took, along with a new, increasing desire to surrender. How could he have been so foolhardy? He no longer doubted this was a trap.

“You are inside what we call our mother,” droned Adam. “Soon we will reach her heart.”

“And we are free to leave?” asked Mark.

Adam smiled, but not at him or Sarah. A young woman had walked through a passageway leading into the hall. An assist showed she was an evolved hybrid similar to Adam. She wore jeans and an oatmeal-colored sweater. Her hair was long and pulled into a thick ponytail. She looked like any normal young woman; she moved comfortably into Adam’s personal space, kissed his cheek, and then continued walking on. She was the first hybrid Mark had seen other than Adam. Mark could not take his eyes from her retreating form, and the assist that showed incredible nanotech development.

“You are free to leave, but it would be wise to stay until we present you with what little help we can offer. The mother knew you would come. We have one more veil to penetrate and then we will be in her heart.”

As soon as Adam finished speaking, Mark sensed another vortex directly in front of them. How could he have missed it? He was certain it had not materialized with Adam’s words. This wall of dense thought energy had been waiting unobtrusively all along. He knew or, rather, was being mentally schooled by the god-machine that this vortex was even more powerful than the last. Sarah double-squeezed his hand again. She was experiencing everything right along with him. He had to remind himself this vortex was just radio waves carrying network packets of thoughts. It was not physical. Was it? Adam led the way. Mark was not sure whether he could have stopped himself from walking into the maelstrom and did not even try. Knowledge materialized inside him that this mystery school had three concentric esoteric circles. Remarkable! This place, this commune, was identifying itself as a mystery school. Mark was surprised by the revelation but also sensed something false at its core. Something more was going on here below the surface. He was certain of it.