War in Heaven (81 page)

The third phase of constructing the Universal Computer would be the utter triumph of the Way of Ringess. As Lord of the Civilized Worlds, Hanuman would bring his new religion out to the other peoples of the galaxy. He would win them to his vision, either with words or electronic samadhi or war. He would excite them to build yet more billions of lobes of the Universal Computer's brain. Somewhere along the way of this crusade, perhaps in towards the light-drunk spaces of the core, his Ringists would come across the Iviomils who had destroyed the star of the Narain people. In a lightning duel of ships falling through the manifold and flashing laser lights, they would capture or kill these deadly Architects once led by Bertram Jaspari. They would capture the deep-ship containing their
morrashar
and study this star-killing machinery. And then the same robot factories that had built the components of the Universal Computer would begin building new
morrashars
, millions upon millions of them. The factories would build robot black ships as well. With the Universal Computer programming and setting the mappings of the ships from star to star, Hanuman would send this death fleet out to the farthest reaches of the galaxy.

And then would come the terrible fourth phase of the Universal Computer's making. After many hundreds or thousands of years (after Hanuman had tortured the Agathanian engineers and had wrested the secret of immortality from them), he would turn upon the trillions of Ringists whom he had promised to lead towards godhood. In truth, he would lead them down into the dark and endless cavern of death. It would be the greatest betrayal in the history of the human race, perhaps the greatest in the history of the universe. For Hanuman planned nothing less than the extermination of all human beings everywhere. All
beings
everywhere: every man, alien and animal around every star of the Milky Way galaxy. He would do this because he no longer needed them to help elevate him towards the divine, and because in his great compassion, he wished to spare all life the horror of what was next to come.

This was the killing of the stars, the exploding of the stars into light that would eventually put out the light of the entire galaxy. The stars, in falling into supernovas and dying, in the incredible heat of their blazing plasma furnaces, would use up their hydrogen and helium atoms to manufacture lithium and oxygen and silicon and cold black iron — all the elements of material reality. Hanuman would need these elements to construct ever more lobes of the Universal Computer, for much of the matter of the universe was bound up into the stars. Using his robot fleets of
morrashar
black ships like swarms of locusts, he would destroy the stars of the Sagittarius and Orion Arms one by one and ten thousand by ten thousand. He himself would long since have removed his physical person to safety, perhaps to one of the earths that Ede the God had once created in the Vild or to a new earth that he would make at the edge of the galaxy out near the stars of the Magellanic Clouds. For Hanuman would now be the greatest of the galaxy's gods in actuality as well as in dreams, and all the stars from the core out to the Ivory Double would be his to use as he pleased.

In truth, all the other gods of the galaxy — the Solid State Entity, Chimene, Iamme, Pure Mind, the Silicon God, the Degula Trinity and perhaps even Mallory Ringess — would have been slain in the explosions of the supernovas, if not during the first rush of destruction, then certainly in the chain reaction when the densely packed core stars blew out the entire centre of the galaxy in a vast wave of light and death. This terrible killing light would seek out all the huddled human beings on all their natural and made-worlds floating in space; it would put an end to
Homo sapiens'
great galactic adventure begun on Old Earth so many thousands of years before. It would also destroy millions of lobes of the Universal Computer, melting off many miles and layers of optical circuitry and sometimes even vaporizing an entire moon-sized lobe in a flash. But always Hanuman's fleets of robot black ships would follow in the wake of this destruction and release its swarms of assemblers upon the glowing dust and other debris. New lobes of the Universal Computer would be continually refabricated and interfaced with the older lobes in brilliant streams of tachyons criss-crossing the galaxy; every part of this godlike machine would be connected to every other in an almost infinitely complex network of interflowing information. And thus some day, farwhen, after perhaps ten million years or more, the entire galaxy would be remade as a cloud of trillions of diamond-skinned lobes that would be a single, vast, black, glittering computer.

And then, in the fifth and final phase of the making of this
shaida
thing, Hanuman would turn his ice-blue eyes outwards and gaze across the dark and endless void at other galaxies. Having accomplished what no other gods would have dared to attempt, his hubris would have grown as vast as the Universal Computer itself. Nothing would remain to come between him and the fulfilment of his dream. Ages earlier, a would-be god named Mallory Ringess had proved that there existed a one-to-one mapping between any two stars of the universe — and thus that a lightship or black ship might fall almost anywhere in spacetime in a single fall. But such mappings could be hideously difficult to find; between two stars of different galaxies, they could be almost impossible. Indeed, no pilot of the Order had ever succeeded in journeying out from the Milky Way, not even to one of the nearer galaxies such as Draco or Fornax. But now Hanuman would use the Universal Computer to overcome the limitations of man's mathematics. With its almost infinite computing power, it would discover mappings between the stars of the Magellanic Clouds (those few million stars that Hanuman allowed to remain untouched by his galaxy-killing machines) and those of Leo, Sculptor and Andromeda and all the other galaxies of the Local Group. Hanuman would then send millions of
morrashar
death ships and deep-ships containing both disassemblers and assembling robots out to these blazing, far-flung stars. In each of the twenty galaxies of the Local Group, Hanuman would set loose a wave of destruction similar to the catastrophe that had overcome the Milky Way. But he would create as well. Like some black, malignant crystal almost infinite in size, the Universal Computer would grow explosively ever outwards, absorbing dark matter and cosmic rays, as well as the remains of quasars and nebulae and blue supergiant stars. How long it might take for it to encompass the three million light years of space from the Anur dwarf galaxy to Triangulum, Hanuman couldn't know. But by that time, however far in the future that it be, Hanuman's patience would have grown almost infinite along with his power.

Inevitably, the Universal Computer would begin to absorb whole clusters of galaxies. From the Canes Venatici Cloud out to the Pavo-Indus and Cetus Clouds of galaxies, the Universal Computer would continually convert all matter into circuitry or other computer parts before incorporating it into itself. It would swallow up thousands of galaxies: the ring galaxies and the ellipticals and the lovely, sparkling swirls of stars in spiral galaxies like the Milky Way. Even the rare Seyfert galaxies, whose bright cores radiated strongly in blue and ultraviolet light, it would deconstruct, digest and remake in its own form. The Grus Cloud would die to its program to grow towards infinity, as well as the Virgo Cluster seventy million light years distant and all the other clusters in the Local Super-cluster. The Superclusters were like brilliant knots in the long, glittering strands of galaxies that wove the glorious tapestry of the universe. And now this beautiful piece of work would all unravel and come undone as the Universal Computer tore apart the Coma, Perseus and Hercules Superclusters, all of which lay within a billion light years of what was left of the once-marvellous Milky Way. The Universal Computer would grow ever outwards devouring the stars, on and on, until it had consumed and folded up the whole universe. And after many millions of years there would be almost nothing left of the universe except this single, crystal-like machine and a god named Hanuman li Tosh.

He would dwell on his earth at the centre of what he had created. Perhaps he would keep tigers or monkeys or other tamed living things as pets; perhaps he would even keep a few million human beings this way as well. Sometimes he might sit in a forest clearing and let the blowing leaves brush against his hair; sometimes at night he might walk along a darkened beach crunching shells into the sand and letting the light of the stars fall across his face. But there would be only a few dim stars left to behold. In any case, Hanuman had never cared for the world's marvels or the glories of creation. He would have his own creation now, and he would face it not with his eyes or living senses, but only with his mind. Whenever he chose — and this would be almost every moment of his endless life — he might stare off and interface the Universal Computer, which would now be truly universal in its scope and power. He would be finally and totally alone, even as God is alone, without the sound of a real ocean to make his heart beat faster or the touch of a woman's breath upon his eyelids. Outside, the stars would have died and all would be as dark and hard as the black diamond shells that encased the moon-lobes of his computer. But inside there would gleam a brilliant if artificial light, for Hanuman would have all eternity with which to play with his dolls and to shape pure information into a whole universe without pain, suffering or flaw.

The whole universe.

Danlo, still crouching down on one knee and gasping in horror at what he remembered, finally managed to stand back up. He looked around at the rippling grass and the blue sky beyond the meadow. And again he noticed that the clouds floating above him like puffy white dreams seemed almost too perfectly shaped.

"No." He uttered this single, simple word with a sureness that came from deep inside his belly. "No."

Upon hearing this, Jonathan came over to him and said, "That's really the only way to save everyone, you know. To bring them here from the other universe."

"To kill all the people, then? All the stars? All things ... everywhere?"

"But, Father — isn't every living thing doomed anyway? In the end, doesn't everything that lives just suffer and die?"

"Yes, truly everything does, but — "

"Life is a disease that has no cure. No cure except extinction."

"No — that cannot be true."

"The flaw, Father — the fundamental flaw runs down to the fabric of the universe itself."

Danlo looked at his son sadly and said, "Is the only way to save the universe, then, to destroy it?"

"It's hard," Jonathan said, "but didn't you teach me that true compassion is the hardest thing in the world?"

"Do you think that it is compassionate to
murder
people?"

"But they don't really die, do they? If they can be brought here to this universe, if they can be made to live for ever without suffering — isn't this really the only way they can live without the dread of death?"

"No," Danlo said again. "No."

"The whole universe can be healed of its flaw and perfectly re-created here. Is it wrong to want to save the universe, Father?"

At that moment it was hard for Danlo to look at Jonathan, so he closed his eyes and took a breath of air. And then he remembered something important, something that he should never have forgotten.

"Jonathan," he said softly as he looked off towards the beach and the world all around them, "even if the Universal Computer grew infinitely large and the simulation of the universe became perfect, it would still be only a simulation."

Jonathan stepped closer to him and threw his arms around his waist. And then he looked up with his deep blue eyes and asked, "Aren't I real Father?"

Gently, Danlo reached behind him and pried Jonathan's fingers apart, gently placed his hands on his son's chest over his heart and pushed him away.

"No," he said, struggling to breathe, "you are not real."

"Won't you help bring Mama here and everything else?"

"No, I will not."

"Please, Father."

"No."

"But why not? I don't understand."

With a sudden but graceful motion, Danlo swept his hand out towards the city where many of the people would be gathering for an hour of prayer. Then he looked into the jungle at the lovely parratock birds with their brilliantly coloured plumes and bright little eyes. In a way, he thought, all these dolls were perfect — perfect like diamond crystals frozen in ice. Because each of the almost infinitely many parts of the world did not die and were not re-absorbed into an ever increasingly complex web of creation, there could be no true evolution here. And so the universe as a whole was freezing up into a vast, single crystal without flow or true consciousness.

"Please tell me why you won't help me, Father."

At last, as tears built in Danlo's eyes, he turned towards Jonathan and said, "Because all this life that you have made ... is so unalive."

And Jonathan just stared at him silently for a long time as the innocence melted from his face like honey beneath a glaring red sun. And then he said, "Damn you, Father."

Because Danlo couldn't speak just then, he looked at the soft locks of hair falling across his son's forehead.

"You might have saved me, you know. You might have saved everyone."

Danlo continued to gaze at his son who wasn't really of his flesh or spirit or heart but only an instantiation of images out of his and Hanuman's mind. "No, no, I — "

Damn you, Danlo!

These words came not from Jonathan's lips but fell down from the sky like thunder and shook the ground upon which Danlo stood. He clasped his hands to his ears, but he couldn't seem to shut out the deafening sound that rolled out all around him.

Damn you, damn you, damn you! I've offered you the
whole
universe. I've created a heaven for you, and you choose only hell. You should know, it's your choice, Danlo.

And then the sky opened and a bolt of lightning tore down through the air and struck Jonathan full upon the forehead. He staggered backwards as blue bands of electricity crackled and sizzled all about his body like glowing snakes. "No!" he cried out as his eyes opened wide with the sudden and terrible pain. "Please, Father — help me!"