What about senses? This ESP faculty you have?
The world around him altered, shifting to slippery shadows.
There were several more questions and observations on the nature of Dariat’s state, which the rebel possessor did his best
to answer. In total, the recording amounted to over fifteen minutes.
“Wealth indeed,” Gilmore said when it ended. “This kind of clarification is just what we need to pursue a solution. It seemed
to me as though Dariat actually had some freedom of movement in the beyond. To my mind, that implies physical dimensions.”
“A strange sort of space,” Nowak said. “From the way the souls were pressed close enough to overlap, there appeared to be
very little of it. I won’t call it a place, but it’s definitely a unified area. It was almost a closed continuum, yet we know
it exists in parallel to our own universe, so it must have infinite depth. That’s damn close to being paradoxical.” He shrugged,
disturbed by his own reasoning.
“That perception ability Dariat demonstrated interests me,” Euru commented. “The effect is remarkably similar to a voidhawk’s
mass perception sense.”
Gilmore looked across his desk to the tall Edenist, inviting him to continue.
“I’d say the possessed must be interpreting local energy resonances. Whatever type of energy they operate within, we know
it pervades our universe, even if we can’t distinguish it ourselves yet.”
“If you’re right,” Nowak said, “that’s a further indication that our universe is conjunctive with this beyond realm, that
there is no single interface point.”
“There has to be an identifiable connection,” Euru said. “Dariat was clearly aware of the lost souls while he occupied Horgan’s
body. He could hear them—for want of a better phrase. They were pleading with the possessors the whole time, asking to be
given bodies. Somewhere there is a connection, a conduit leading back there.”
Gilmore glanced round the desk to see if anyone else wanted to pick up on the point. They were all silent, concentrating on
the implications Euru and Nowak raised. “I’ve been considering that we might need to approach this from a different angle,”
he said. “After all, we’ve had a singular lack of success in trying to analyse the quantum signature of the effect, perhaps
we should concentrate less on the exact nature of the beast, and more on what it does and implies.” “In order to deal with
it, we have to identify it,” Yusuf said.
“I’m not advocating a brute force and ignorance approach,” Gilmore replied. “But consider; when this crisis started, we believed
we were dealing with an outbreak of some energy virus. I maintain that is essentially what we have here. Our souls are self-contained
patterns capable of existence and travel outside the matrix of our bodies. Hemmatu, how would you say they are formed?”
The energy expert stroked his cheek with long fingers, pondering the question. “Yes, I think I see what you’re driving at.
The beyond energy is apparently present in all matter, including cells, although the quantity involved must necessarily be
extremely tenuous. Therefore as intelligence arises during life, it imprints itself into this energy somehow.”
“Exactly,” Gilmore said. “The thought patterns which arise in our neurone structure retain their cohesion once the brain dies.
That is our soul. There’s nothing spiritual or religious about it, the entire concept is an entirely natural phenomenon, given
the nature of the universe.”
“I’m not sure about denying religion,” Nowak said. “Being inescapably plugged into the universe at such a fundamental level
seems somewhat spiritually impressive to me. Being at one with the cosmos, literally, makes us all part of God’s creation.
Surely?”
Gilmore couldn’t quite work out if he was joking. A lot of physicists took to religion as they struggled with the unknowable
boundaries of cosmology, almost as many as embraced atheism. “If we could just put that aside for the moment, please?”
Nowak grinned, waving a hand generously.
“What I’m getting at is that something is responsible for retaining a soul’s cohesion. Something glues those thoughts and
memories together. When Syrinx interviewed Malva, she was told:
‘Life begets souls.’
That it is
‘the pattern which sentience and self awareness exerts on the energy within the biological body.’
”
“So souls accrue from the reaction of thoughts upon this energy,” Nowak said. “I’m not disputing the hypothesis. But how can
that help us?”
“Because it’s only us: humans. Animals don’t have souls. Dariat and Laton never mentioned encountering them.”
“They never mentioned encountering alien souls either,” Mattox said. “But according to the Kiint, they’re there.”
“It’s a big universe,” Nowak said.
“No,” Gilmore countered. “That can’t apply. Only some souls are trapped in the section we know about, the area near the boundary.
Laton as good as confirmed that. After death, it’s possible to embark on the great journey. Again, his words.”
Euru shook his head sadly. “I wish I could believe him.”
“In this I agree with him, not that it has much bearing on my principal contention.”
“Which is?” Mattox asked.
“I believe I know the glue which holds souls together. It has to be sentience. Consider, an animal like a dog or cat has its
individuality as a biological entity, but no soul. Why not? It has a neural structure, it has memories, it has thought processes
operating inside that neural structure. Yet when it dies, all that loses coherence. Without a focus, a strong sense of identity,
the pattern dissolves. There is no order.”
“The formless void,” Nowak muttered in amusement.
Gilmore disregarded the jibe. “We know a soul is a coherent entity, and both Couteur and Dariat have confirmed there is a
timeflow within the beyond. They suffer entropy just as we do. I am convinced that makes them vulnerable.” “How?” Mattox asked
sharply.
“We can introduce change. Energy, the actual substance of souls, cannot be destroyed, but it can certainly be dissipated or
broken up, returned to a primordial state.”
“Ah yes.” Hemmatu smiled in admiration. “Now I follow your logic. Indeed, we have to reintroduce some chaos into their lives.”
Euru gave Gilmore a shocked stare. “Kill them?”
“Acquire the ability to kill them,” Gilmore responded smoothly. “If they have the ability to leave the part or state of the
beyond where they are now, they must clearly be forced to do so. The prospect of death, real
final
death, would provide them with the spur to leave us alone.”
“How?” Euru asked. “What would be the method?”
“A virus of the mind,” Gilmore said. “A universal anti-memory that would spread through thought processes, fracturing them
as it went. The beauty of it is, the possessed are constantly merging their thoughts with one another to fulfil their quest
for sensation. En masse, they are a mental superconductor.”
“You might just be on to something here,” Hemmatu said. “Are there such things as anti-memory?”
“There are several weapons designed to disable a target’s mental processes,” Mattox said. “Most of them are chemical or biological
agents. However, I do know of some that are based upon didactic imprint memories. But so far my colleagues have only produced
variants that induce extreme psychotic disorders such as paranoia or schizophrenia.”
“That’s all we need,” Nowak grunted. “Extra demented lost souls. They’re quite barmy enough as it is.”
Gilmore gave him a disapproving glance. “Would an anti-memory be possible, theoretically?” he asked Mattox.
“I can’t think of any immediate show-stoppers.”
“Surely it would just self-destruct?” Yusuf said. “If it eradicates the mechanism of its own conductivity, how can it sustain
itself?”
“We’d need something that rides just ahead of its own destruction wave,” Mattox said. “Again, it’s not a theoretical impossibility.”
“Nobody said the concept wouldn’t need considerable development work,” Gilmore said.
“And trials,” Euru said. His handsome face was showing a considerable amount of unease. “Don’t forget that phase. We would
need a sentient being to experiment on. Probably several.”
“We have Couteur,” Gilmore muttered. He acknowledged the Edenist’s silent censure. “Sorry: natural thought. She caused us
more than her fair share of trouble in court three.”
“I’m sure there will be bitek neural systems adequate for the purpose,” Mattox said hurriedly. “We don’t have to use humans
at this stage.”
“Very well,” Gilmore said. “Unless anyone has any objections, I’d like to prioritize this project. The First Admiral has been
placing considerable pressure on us for an overall solution for some time. It’ll be a relief to report we might be able to
finally go on the offensive against the possessed.”
______
Edenist habitats gossiped among themselves. The discovery first surprised, then amused Ione and Tranquillity. But then their
multiplicity personalities were made up from millions of people, who like all the elderly were keen to see how their young
relatives were doing and spread the word among friends. The personalities were also integral to Edenist culture, so naturally
they took an avid interest in human affairs for the reaction it would ultimately have upon themselves. The minutiae of political,
social, and economic behaviour from the Confederation at large was absorbed, debated, and meditated upon. Knowledge was the
right of all Edenists. It was just the method of passing on the more miscellaneous chunks which was delightfully quirky. Manifold
sub-groups would form within every personality, with interests as varied as classical literature to xenobiology; early industrial
age steam trains to Oort cloud formations. There was nothing formal, nothing ordained about such clusterings of cognate mentalities.
It was, simply, the way it was. An informal anarchy.
Observing this, Tranquillity began to consider itself the equivalent of some ageing uncle overseeing a brood of unruly young
cousins. Its own decorum generated a mild feeling of alienation from its contemporaries (which Ione also found amusing). Only
when the full Jovian Consensus, with all its solemn nobility, arose from the gabbling minds, was there a notion of kinship.
By the time Tranquillity did arrive at Jupiter, there were literally millions of sub-groups convening within the habitat personalities
to consider every possible aspect of the possession problem (essentially, Gilmore’s committee to the Nth degree). Eager to
participate in the search for a solution, Tranquillity contributed its memories and conclusions of the crisis to date; information
which was eagerly disseminated and deliberated over. Among the groupings who surveyed all matters religious, the most interesting
development was the Kiint’s curiosity in the Tyrathca’s Sleeping God. The question of what the Sleeping God might actually
be was passed to the cosmology groupings. They didn’t have much of an idea, so they queried the xenopsy-chology field. In
turn, they wondered if the enigma would be better served by the xenocultural historians…
At which point, two very distinct (and in their different ways, very important) mentalities among the collective personalities
became aware of the Sleeping God problem. The sub-Consensus for security and Wing-Tsit Chong together decided the matter was
best dealt with by themselves and a few of their own specialists. In collaberation with Ione, of course.
______
Joshua had a bad feeling about Ione calling him to a conference without being told the reason. There were resonances of being
asked to go after Mzu coming into play. It got worse when she told him it was to be convened in De Bouvoir Palace. That meant
it was going to be formal, official.
When he arrived at the small tube station which served visitors to the Palace, Mzu was climbing the steps ahead of him. He
wanted to turn round and go back to supervising
Lady Mac
’s refit. But at least this was as bad as it could possibly get. They made laboured small talk as they walked along the dark-yellow
stone path to the classical building. Mzu didn’t know why she’d been invited, either.
A horde of servitor chimps were scurrying about on either side of the path, along with specialist agronomy servitors. All
of them were busy repairing the once immaculate parkland. Grass had been trampled into mud by thousands of dancing feet, topiary
bushes were knocked into odd shapes, with bottles sticking out of unusual crevices. But it was the tomis shrubs which had
taken the worst battering; with their blue and gold trumpet-shaped flowers torn from broken branches to form a brown, slippery
mat across the path. The servitors were optimistically trying to repair them with adroit pruning and staking; though the smaller
ones were simply being replaced. Vandalism on such a scale was unheard of in Tranquillity. Though Joshua did have to smile
at the pile of clothes which the chimps had gathered up. It was mostly underwear.
A pair of serjeants were on guard duty outside the basilica’s archway entrance. “The Lord of Ruin is expecting you,” one intoned.
It led them along the nave to the audience chamber.
Ione sat in her accustomed place behind the crescent table in the centre. Long, flat streamers of light from the towering
windows intersected around her, giving her an almost saintly portrayal. Joshua was hard pressed not to comment on the theatre
of the moment when she smiled a welcome, but he played the game and bowed solemnly. Mzu was given a more punctilious nod of
recognition. There were six high-backed chairs set up along the convex side of the table, four of them already occupied. Joshua
knew Parker Higgens; Samuel was there as well; but he had to run a search through his neural nanonics to name the Laymil project’s
chief astronomer, Kempster Getchell. The fourth turned to face him…
“You!”
“Hello, Joshua,” Syrinx said. The possibility of a smile teased her lips.
“Oh,” Ione murmured in a suspiciously sweet tone. “Do you two know each other?”
Joshua gave Ione a punitive look, then went over to Syrinx and gave her a light kiss on the cheek. “I heard what happened
on Pernik. I’m glad you came through it all right.”