EXOSKELETON II: Tympanum (45 page)

2

Saturday, 13 June (1:17 a.m. EST)

Will was face up on the lower bunk with his head resting on a stiff pillow. Taped to the bottom of the bed above were pictures of a sailor’s family – a smiling woman that seemed too young to have children. Her red hair was tied in a tight ponytail and she held a little blonde girl, maybe two or three years old. He knew the crew were away from their families for six months at a time and, by the nature of their job, put themselves in harm’s way. He hoped that whatever was going to happen – whatever he was about to do – didn’t jeopardize their safe return.

He closed his eyes and separated. He passed downward and to the starboard side of the
North Dakota
, through the floor and into the ballast tanks. Finally, he slipped through the hardened-steel hull and into the water. Cold currents flowed through him, a sensation that was both pleasing and uncomfortable. The orb emitted a tone that, at below 100 hertz, was ominously deep, as if it were growling. At less than 50 meters away, the sound was so intense that he felt it in the water around him.

He approached and touched the surface of the sphere, which was vibrating. It was physically identical to the first beacon, but something was different. It felt dark, like an ancient ruin with a sinister history.

He softened his physical state and dragged himself through the shell and into its large, spherical void. The beating ceased, and the tug from his body was gone.

Illuminated in bright white light at the geometric center of the sphere was a circular platform. It was perched atop a tapered stem that protruded from the bottom. The rest of the void was as dark as sackcloth.

The platform was at least 20 feet in diameter, and looked to be composed of the same material as the beacon. On its smooth surface were two chairs and a white, circular table. Seated across the table from each other were two human-like beings – naked and hairless. They sat a meter apart, motionless and silent, staring blankly at each other with their hands flat on the table.

Will was moving closer when he sensed motion to his right. He darted to the opposite side of the sphere and looked into the blackness, in the direction of the motion.

A faint image, not unlike the wraiths he’d seen before, emerged from the shadows. This one seemed to take a human form, but the features were subtle, and he wasn’t sure whether he was imagining them – like one’s mind recognizes objects in puffy, white clouds in a summer sky.

“Why don’t we settle into a physical presence and talk,” the wraith said in a deep, grating voice that Will found unsettling.

“I don’t understand,” Will replied, almost startled by his own voice.

The wraith took a position just above the table. “Come,” it said.

Will approached the table. He was close to the wraith now – so close that he thought he sensed heat radiating from its location.

“Take the empty body below you,” the wraith said and pointed to one of the humanoid beings.

Will was confused. “What do you mean?”

“The body below you is vacant,” the wraith explained. “It is pristine – it has never been occupied by a soul. Enter it.”

Will froze.
Occupy another body
. Thoughts of demonic possession entered his mind.

The wraith descended and entered the body below it, the eyes of which suddenly changed from those of a dead fish to those reflecting self-awareness, and life. The arms moved, and then it spoke. “Please,” it said in a physical, epicene voice, and gestured with its hands to the body directly across from it.

Will moved slowly. As he entered the other body from the top, a warm sensation engulfed him and then seemed to pull him in. It was different from what he’d felt when he’d entered the CP inmate’s body to pinch an artery. In that case it had been as if something were trying to repel him. The present situation was like falling into a tub of warm mud.

He opened his eyes and found himself looking into the face of the being across from him. The first thing he noticed was that his vision was perfect – much better than in his own body. He held his hands in front of him and examined them, turning them back and forth and squeezing them into fists and releasing. He couldn’t believe what was happening: he was
someone else
. With the palm of his right hand, he pressed on his thigh, the one with the broken femur. There was no pain – it wasn’t
his
body. In fact, he felt unusually comfortable – no pain of any kind. He wondered how much discomfort he’d lived with on a day-to-day basis: his leg, lower back, feet, neck, sinuses, knees … how much pain had he gotten used to?

“Who are you?” the being asked.

“I’m William Thompson,” Will responded. “Who are you?”

The being stared at him.

After an awkward silence, Will asked, “Why am I here?”

“All that is relevant is that I
am here,” the being said.

“Why are you here?”

“You have reached maturity.”

“Me?”

“Your kind.”

“My kind?”

“Humanity.”

Will’s mind reeled. The words
existential implications
came to him – something Daniel had said to him. For an instant he panicked. “Will I be able to get back to my body?” he blurted.

“Yes,” the being replied and seemed to look deep into his eyes. “You do not yet understand that you can control time.”

Will had no idea what he meant and looked back in bewilderment.

“You cannot go
backward
in time, but you can operate so quickly that time effectively stands still in the physical world. That is what we are doing now. Your physical brain can only think at a finite speed – it takes a minimum amount of time to process a single thought. It is physically limited. No such limitations exist when you are outside your body.”

Will recalled the pistons in the engines on the Chinese carrier: they had slowed when he concentrated on grasping them. Perhaps he was moving, and perceiving, so quickly that they only seemed to have slowed. “But we’re in physical bodies now,” Will said.

“We are inside the sphere,” the being said. “Time is essentially standing still on the outside.”

“Who are you?” Will asked

“It is not
who
I am that matters. It is
what
.”

“
What
are you?”

“I am the Inquisitor and Judge.”

Will didn’t like where the conversations was heading. “Judge of what?” he asked.

“Your world.”

Will’s chest tightened.

“I am here because I have been summoned,” the Judge continued. “The probe was actuated three days ago.”

“You mean the first beacon – a
probe
?” Will asked.

“Was it you who had actuated it?”

Will nodded.

“This action has confirmed that your world has come of age,” the Judge said.

“Come of age?”

“Passed into a new phase of existence,” the Judge explained. “The probe can only be accessed in the evanescent state, where the consciousness extends itself beyond the confines of the physical body.
You
have accomplished this. You turned the lever.”

Regret flooded Will’s mind.
Why had he pulled the switch?

“Accessing and actuating the probe required an advanced level of development,” the Judge continued. “First, you – your kind – had to discover and decipher the disk to obtain the location of the probe. Then you had to travel to that location of the planet – a place that is highly inaccessible. That had required you to exceed a threshold of technological development.”

The bottom of the Southern Ocean was certainly an inaccessible place, Will thought.

“While discovering the probe requires a certain level of intellectual growth,” the Judge explained, “you cannot access its interior unless you have developed an evanescent existence.”

“And what happens now?” Will asked.

“Evaluation. Judgment.”

Judgment? It implied a punishment – a sentence. “What are the ramifications?” Will asked.

“There are
existential consequences
.”

Daniel’s words echoed again in Will’s mind. “Our
existence
is at stake?”

The Judge nodded.

“On what is this judgment based?” Will’s mind flooded with numerous negative images of himself, and even more of human history. His stomach churned.

“It depends on your answer to
one
question,” the Judge said, keeping steady eye contact.

“One question?” Will scoffed. “How can the future of the world depend on one man’s answer to
one
question?”

“It is a very revealing question,” the Judge replied.

“What if your judgment is negative – what will happen?”

“A chain of events will be initiated to renew your world,” the Judge responded.

“Renew?”

“Wiped clean, followed by a new genesis.”

“Humanity will be wiped out.”

The Judge nodded.

“And if we pass your test?”

“You will receive further enlightenment.”

“To what end?” Will asked.

“Immortality.”

Will was taken aback. What did that mean?

The Judge seemed to read his expression and his silence. “It is complicated,” the Judge said. “But you are seeing a crude aspect of it right here – in that body you are occupying. If it were able to exit this sphere, it could be claimed by any free soul in the same manner as you are occupying it right now.”

Will thought of the Nazis’ plan to reincarnate Hitler. It seemed their conjecture was not as absurd as it appeared.

“But immortality reaches beyond the physical world,” the Judge continued. “Even souls can be destroyed before they are cast.”

“Cast?”

“Made a permanent part of existence. This is the true immortality.”

“Our souls are not cast?” Will asked.

The Judge shook his head.

“What happened to those who have died – where are they?”

“They lie in wait,” the Judge replied. “Their existence depends on the outcome of this inquiry.”

Will felt like he was being crushed. Why was he put into this position? Why him? It then occurred to him:
why not him
? He was as guilty as those who had created him. He’d killed many.

“The idea of judgment should not surprise you,” the Judge said. “All humans have an innate sense of immortality, death, and judgment. It is manifest in religion – a collective guilt and fear of judgment. But you also have hope – hope that there is something beyond this existence. Both your fear, and hope, are justified.”

Will didn’t feel any hope. “What if I refuse to answer your question?”

“It would result in a negative judgment.”

Will wanted to flee back to the
North Dakota
. He regretted bringing things to this point, but he quickly rejected culpability. He’d been forced into it from the beginning. He did not acquire the ability to separate – to access the evanescent state – by his own will. It seemed to him that humanity had finally meddled with something that would lead to its destruction. He’d always thought that, if it were to happen, it would’ve been thermonuclear war, or some technology-gone-wrong, that would destroy the world. Humanity would eventually have done everything within its reach, most of which was driven by power, greed or, more benignly, curiosity. Either way, someone would eventually have occupied the chair in which he currently sat.

“Ask your question,” Will said.

The Judge nodded and looked into his eyes. “You are here only because you have acquired the ability to transform into the evanescent state. There are only two ways to attain this ability.”

Goose bumps formed on Will’s arms. The Judge seemed to notice.

“The first way is through enlightenment,” the Judge explained. “It is nurtured through the development of the intellect over generations. It is a progressive process accomplished through an environmental stimulation of evolution. In this case, the evolution occurs in both the intellect and consciousness, the latter of which you refer to as the soul.”

The situation was looking bleak. “And the second way?” Will asked. He was pretty sure he already knew the answer. The face across from him became grave.

“The opposite of enlightenment,” the Judge replied. “A single being is made to suffer so greatly that its consciousness wants to escape the physical world, but is somehow constrained.”

“Torture,” Will said.

The Judge nodded slowly, keeping eye contact. “I am here because you summoned me,” he said. “Now the question becomes, how did
you
get here?”

Will’s thoughts scrambled in his mind. The answer to the judge’s question was unequivocal, but he couldn’t answer – not with the truth. He remained silent.