Mobius (27 page)

“It’s an awesome achievement,” I said, “that with all the worlds that have sprouted from the Brahman Station’s survivors, none have become known to the Fume.”

“Indeed,” said Fandoral proudly. “And now that paradox is no longer a concern, these fine protectors will be allowed to retire.”

We left the Corridor of Guardians and came to a balcony that overlooked Central City. It was like no city I’d ever seen. Enormous spherical structures floated in fixed positions—apparently the buildings of the city. Some were clumped together and connected by great walkways. Dimensional archways were prevalent on nearly every balcony of every floating structure, allowing anyone to be transported to their desired destination. I looked to the far surroundings of the floating cityscape and saw, in all directions, the mouths of the various forest channels. At the center of each opening was a glowing sphere like an artificial sun. The Oryx had said earlier that Central City was at the center of the Guardian Sphere, where all the forest channels intersected. It was a beautiful feat of engineering. It was the future of humankind. A testament to our greatness.

I thought Fandoral was guiding us to a dimensional archway, but he took us to a small air-car.

“There’s no dimensional archway where we’re headed,” said Fandoral.

The air-car took us away from Central City, into the mouth of one of the forest channels. We flew over the pink plumed canopy until we saw the most fanciful restaurant. It was no more than a giant platform hovering in air. People sat at tables on its large, round surface, eating and drinking in a merry fashion.

Fandoral rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “This is one of the finer establishments in the area. I urge you to sample their steamed snout beetles stuffed with sweet jelly.”

We docked the air-car at the side of the restaurant and got out. After seating ourselves, a fat fellow, with magenta-toned skin and bulging eyes, attended our needs. “The drink of the hour is Gray Nectar Liqueur. May I bring you a pitcher?”

Fandoral nodded eagerly. “Additionally, bring three platters of your finest local delicacies.”

“With pleasure.” The waiter moved swiftly considering his plumpness, and promptly returned with both drinks and platters.

All in the company proceeded to eat and drink with enthusiasm.

My gaze wandered through the crowd, finally fixing upon a group of girls on a nearby dance floor. They moved in an intricate dance of high kicks and handclapping. “It’s amazing these are human descendents. Though they look different, they carry themselves like any other human of Earth.”

Morion made a perverted grin. “And their exotic forms aren’t at all unappealing. I believe I’m developing a fondness for our newfound descendents. Tell me, Fandoral, would it be inappropriate to mingle with these other races in a less than innocent fashion?”

“By all means, mingle to your heart’s content. There are many races here from throughout the Brahman Sprawl celebrating this great time. But, be careful what you say. A few misplaced words may arouse insult—or more severely, may bind you to some verbal contract in which you may find yourself married.”

“I’ll heed your advice.” Morion rose from the table and looked down at his clothes. “This environmental suit is unfit for the celebration. I’m embarrassed to be mingling in such rags. Mr. Orsteen, I require your presence on the dance floor. Your great stature may take notice away from my dreadful outfit.”

“If you insist,” replied Orsteen. “Let me first refill my mug.” Orsteen signaled the waiter, who rushed a fresh pitcher of Gray Nectar Liqueur to the table. Orsteen grabbed the entire pitcher and followed Morion to the dance floor.

The rest of us continued to eat and drink. I munched on a biscuit slathered in a rich pâté of meat, or insect, or possibly some kind of fleshy vegetable. I was uncertain. I laughed as I watched Stimple walk across the table and refill his tiny mug by dipping it into my larger mug.

I proceeded to drink heavily, attempting to calm the commotion of so many revelations occupying my head—time travel, multiple universes, and alien creators.

I finally felt more relaxed. “Fandoral, you said the Obelisks will be aligned soon?”

“Correct,” replied Fandoral, popping a steamed snout beetle in his mouth. “I’d approximate within the hour.”

“Then this is the climax of twenty-one million years of preparation. I’m impressed, even worried, at how calm you are. Are you so confident in your plans? Additionally, aren’t you concerned the Fume will retaliate?”

Fandoral wiped his large mouth. “I’m calm for two reasons. First, the Obelisks have been effective at keeping the Fume trapped in temporal stasis. Second, he has no way to retaliate, since he cannot manifest himself beyond Earth. His powers in our universe are limited only to the planets where he’s formed an outpocketing of his consciousness. At this distance, we’re beyond his reach. As well, every planet shrouded in the Fume’s outpocketings—that’s over a thousand in the seven galaxies—is being held in temporal stasis. Once the Obelisks are aligned, the dimensional barrier between our two universes will be created, and our lives will proceed without the Fume.”

I couldn’t help but think Fandoral was overconfident. I took a drink, and suddenly heard the sound of water trickling nearby. I looked down and found Stimple pissing off the side of the table, whistling a happy tune and swaying uncontrollably from side to side.

Fandoral apologized for Stimple’s behavior and then reached across the table and poked him. “It’s good to see your spirits higher, my little companion. However, there are bathrooms by the kitchen for you to relieve yourself.” Fandoral helped the tiny drunkard to the floor and nudged him on his way.

I returned to our conversation. “You described the Fume’s presence around Earth as an outpocketing of his consciousness. This confuses me, Fandoral. What kind of entity are we dealing with?”

“Indeed,” said Allienora. “I’m also curious.”

“Forgive me,” said Fandoral. “I’ve neglected to explain the fundamental nature of the Fume. Firstly, the universe that the Fume’s native to is nothing like ours. It’s a universe filled entirely with the Fume’s consciousness—a single conscious universe. If you visited it, it would be like traveling through the neural pathways of a brain, the structure of which is a complex web of exotic energy that extends to infinity. Even the dimensional symmetry of the universe is different. The fabric of his universe has twenty-seven dimensions, not eighteen—and they are weaved in a pattern nothing like ours. We couldn’t even occupy the space of his universe, our matter would be unstable, it would dissociate at a quantum level. Only the exotic energy of his consciousness can exist.”

“There are no stars or galaxies?” asked Allienora. “No matter of any kind within his universe?”

“Precisely so,” said Fandoral. “There’s only his matrix of consciousness.”

I took a large gulp of Gray Nectar Liqueur. “So, the exotic energy that occupies the unnatural dimension around Earth is only a fraction of the Fume’s being?”

“Exactly,” said Fandoral. “His consciousness is as vast as his universe.”

“Remarkable,” I uttered. “Then the Fume truly is a being of great power.”

Allienora shook her head. “Earlier, Fandoral, you said he wasn’t a god. Yet a being that encompasses an entire universe seems godly to me.”

“Not at all,” said Fandoral. “He may be all-powerful in his universe, but he’s the god of no one. There are no mortal beings under his command. No one worships him. There’s nothing but himself.”

Allienora took a contemplative sip of her beverage. “It would seem a deprived and lonely existence, having only yourself in an entire universe. Sad, wouldn’t you say?”

“Possibly,” responded Fandoral, “but we shouldn’t be concerned with the Fume’s introverted existence. Besides, he’s kept himself entertained by playing god in our universe.”

I reflected on my memories of the Fume’s past manifestations. “As far as the Fume’s social manipulations on Earth, do you have any detailed records of his actions?”

“With our advanced methods, we were able to maintain a complete record of humankind’s history, including the Fume’s manifestations.”

“I’d be eager to have a look at these records,” I said, “so to better understand the Fume’s motives.”

Fandoral laughed so hard he coughed. “You, Mr. Mobius, wouldn’t be the first man to give his attention to this subject. There have been more theories than stars in the sky. But...” Fandoral gave a noncommittal shrug. “...I see no harm in letting you look. I’ll send you the surveillance archives when you’ve settled into quarters.”

I nodded graciously and emptied my mug at a gulp. I sat at ease, absorbing the colorful landscape that spread beneath and around the floating restaurant. In the distance, I could see the floating structures of Central City. In that moment I felt privileged.

What wonders I’ve seen in this life.
I looked away from Central City and then to Allienora.
Some wonders more beautiful than others.

A loud electronic voice echoed from all directions. I couldn’t understand the alien language.

“It’s time,” said Fandoral. His eyes glowed.

I leaned close to him and noticed a film over his eyes, apparently displaying a large amount of numerical data to him.

“The Obelisks are aligned?” I asked.

“They are. Everything looks good.”

Above the restaurant, a large hologram of Earth appeared. Its atmosphere was unmoving as it remained in temporal stasis. The image revealed the presence of the Fume’s outpocketing with the standard sapphire-blue aura.

The crowd of the restaurant roared enthusiastically. I felt more nervous than excited as the Obelisks initialized, energizing the atmosphere with a growing white light. The luminous spectacle continued for just a minute and then faded. The sapphire-blue aura of the Fume’s outpocketing was now absent. Again the crowd roared. Success was apparent.

I admired the image of Earth. It spun on its axis and glowed with its normal blue-green pallor. For a moment I felt strange, almost cathartic, as though an imponderable burden had been purged from my mind. I was free. I looked to Allienora and smiled.

Suddenly, a collective gasp could be heard across the restaurant. The Fume’s outpocketing returned with a growing intensity that startled everyone.

“This doesn’t look good,” I said.

“To say the least,” replied Allienora.

I found Fandoral shaking his head and mumbling in disbelief. His eyes were great white spheres, glowing bright as data passed quickly along the ocular film.

Allienora pointed across the restaurant to the dance floor. “There! Something’s appearing.”

An unidentifiable mass materialized. Its substance twisted and swirled in a strange evolution to find solidity.

“It’s the Fume!” I said. “He attempts to manifest himself beyond the limits of Earth.”

From a pocket of his blue velvet garment, Fandoral retrieved a small eyepiece that glowed red around the edges. He placed it over his eye. “You’re right. I’m detecting his exotic energy. Wait... it’s gone.”

What remained was a large black cinder of flesh. A hot, rancid steam emanated from its charred surface.

Fandoral lowered his eyepiece. “You were correct, Mr. Mobius. But the Fume’s attempt has obviously failed. I’m not detecting his exotic energy anymore.”

I approached the smoldering mound of flesh. Its odor was extremely pungent. I avoided breathing through my nose. Allienora joined me to examine the fleshy bulk.

“It’s horrendous,” said Allienora, turning away in revolt. She peered from the edge of the floating restaurant to the forest below. “There’s another one down there! Do you see it, Theron?”

“And more!” I pointed throughout the forest.

Fandoral and the waiter who’d been serving us approached the charred cinder of flesh.

“What is it?” asked Fandoral.

“I don’t know, but it might still be alive,” I said, observing subtle pulsations at its surface. I retrieved the surgical tool still concealed under my sleeve. The blade became energized and I stabbed the burnt flesh. It reacted, contorting away from my assault. “Whatever it is, we should destroy it. Do you have a weapon, Fandoral?”

“No, but I’ll call a Guardian for assistance.” Fandoral fled the scene.