Ocean in the Sea Page 45

  “So you’re sure? You trust that this future is correct?” Scott’s hands shook and he gripped his cup to steady them. “You really believe that this is what would have happened to you if you hadn’t met Valon Kang?”

  “There is no reason to doubt the accuracy,” stated Kingery. “Your reality is a simulation of my own. It is not a ‘new’ future. It is a predicted one. And despite all the ramifications and variables I have watched it come to pass. Thus, here we are. The recalibration has long-since completed, and I’ve got my answer. That’s all I wanted here.” Kingery shrugged. “I’ve also done an extensive amount of meta-editing on my personality and mental structure while waiting. I didn’t have anything else to do besides watch.”

  Scott shook his head. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean I’ve had time to fix myself,” said Kingery. “You said I’m not Lewis, but I’m not Herman or Garibaldi or Kingery either. I’m something new. My mentality was quite damaged from the merger with Garibaldi, and Lewis had his own problems. Do you want to know what I did?” Kingery’s eye’s glowed in memory. “Do you want to see the veil I ripped from my eyes?”

  Scott leaned back, unsure of how to respond. “See it?”

  “No,” said Kingery. “I won’t show it to you. I’ll simply tell you. I took away my feelings of guilt for what happened to Jacky Jacobson. I took away the despair over the train accident. I altered my brain chemistry and repaired my autism, but retained the focused attention to detail it provided and installed a switch to toggle it. I distilled Garibaldi’s innate understanding of social conventions without his sociopathic disassociation. I made my memory perfect, and enhanced my neural efficiency. I didn’t remove Garibaldi’s memories – I wanted them – but I didn’t want his motives or his psychosis. It was extremely difficult to weed those out, but in the end, it was well worth the effort.”

  “Worth the effort to you,” said Scott. “So you’ve become whatever you are. Not Lewis. Not Garibaldi. What does that mean to us? We’re just part of this program.” He waved his hand. “And now that our purpose is served...”

  “Ah, self-preservation,” said Kingery. “Relax, Scotty. Your simulation isn’t going to end when I leave. I wouldn’t do that to you. I care about you. I’ve watched you too long and invested too much not to care. I will leave your simulation running when I depart.” Kingery looked at the young man. “In fact, I was planning on transferring administrative rights to you.”

  “ME!?” Scott’s eyes widened in shock. “Are you, I mean, hold on but, are you saying you want me to be… in control? I’m not qualified.”

  “You’re as qualified as anyone,” said Kingery. “But I’m not going to force it on you. Either way this simulation will continue to act as if the universe you live in is real. And trust me, it’s a lot smaller than you might think it is. It’s only as big as it needs to be. But you’ll never know the difference. No one will. Ever.”

  “Except me.” Scott frowned.

  “You don’t have to remember.”

  “No.” Scott shook his head. “No, I DO. Someone needs to know the truth. Everyone should know the truth!” He looked up with the brightness of a hopeful idea. “We can tell them! You said there’s no variance here. The sandbox won’t recalibrate. We can show people the truth!”

  “Wake an entire world?” Kingery smiled sadly. “Give them interfaces? Remember the lesson of Paradise? The Paradisians were happy pacifists, but when Tanandor woke them, they ripped their world apart. Can you imagine what humanity would do?”

  “We don’t need to give them interfaces.”

  “No.” Kingery nodded. “Just clinical depression like poor Lewis. How do you feel about the truth?”

  “It’s… I…” Scott sighed and dropped his shoulders. “You’re right. I guess I’d rather not know, but now that I do, I don’t want to unknow it.”

  “But you would inflict the truth on others?”

  “No. Not after you brought up Paradise.” He curled his upper lip. “It doesn’t matter anyway. Even if I showed them miracles, a lot of people would believe something else. Find another explanation that suits them.”

  “So what do you want to do?” asked Kingery. “Do you want guest admin access to the sandbox controls, or do you want to stay as you are?”

  “If I take administrative access,” said Scott, “what will I be able to do? Anything?”

  Kingery nodded. “Anything you want. You could reset this simulation to any point in time. You can make a duplicate of it. You can reshape the Earth and make it into a wonderland of beauty and peace and harmony. You can force everyone to be happy. You can restore Lewis’ mind. You can even create sub-simulations, alternate universes. It’s completely up to you.”

  “Can I leave?”

  Kingery shook his head. “No. That’s the one thing I can’t give you. I don’t know how to transfer the jump interface. This place is a sub-simulation. Here I have admin rights. Out there in the ring I only have what Tanandor gave me, and I don’t know how he did it. I can transfer the sandbox administration to you, but that’s all.”

  Scott frowned. “So I’m trapped.”

  “Trapped in a simulation that you can control, yes. And as you pointed out, there is no variance here. You can do what you want. Out there, any changes you made could force a recalibration. In that regards, you’re free here. Far freer than other simulants. Freer than I will be in the ring.”

  “I’m not sure if that makes me feel any better.”

  Kingery shrugged. “Maybe it will later.”

  Scott rubbed his chin. “What are you going to do?”

  “When I leave? That’s a good question. Obviously, Tanandor has a message he wants me to deliver. Maybe a battle to fight. Maybe enemies to distract. Who knows? The bastard is a genius and I’m a string of code in the cosmic cloud. But I can’t stay. I’m done here and I’m bored. I need to explore.” He toyed with one of the pawns on the nearby chess set. “I’m sick of being a pawn.”

  “Then be a bishop or a rook or a knight.”

  “Yes. I think I might jump after Arsus and see if I can find Jenny.” He cracked his knuckles. “Maybe I’ll pry some skulls open. I owe Arsus that, petty as it might be.”

  “So you’re still human.”

  “Absolutely I’m human! I’ve still got all the flaws. Anger. Jealousy. Fear. Raging curiosity. I was very careful with my personality editing. I didn’t turn myself into a robot. At least I’m not programmed for an obsession like the Paradisians.”

  “You think you can find Arsus?”

  Kingery chuckled. “What are the odds my next jump will follow the same conduit they took?” He snapped his fingers. “Yes. I can find them. I don’t need Valruun to navigate the ring. I just need to be lucky.”

  Scott looked down in thought for several seconds. “I have to say yes,” he concluded. “There are too many people I can help. There are too many wrongs in this world I could fix. Every time something horrible happened I’d know I could have changed it.”

  “I’m sure you’ll make an excellent administrator.” Kingery stood up. “I’m also sure you’ll make a lot of mistakes. Try not to let that drag you down. Just remember that every action has consequences and that you can always reset things and try again if you mess them up.” He handed Scott the folder of papers on the table. “Take this.”

  As Scott took the folder, it slowly faded from his hand.

  Kingery turned and gestured. “Now, let me introduce someone.”

  A man in a business suit popped out of nowhere and looked dully around the room. He brushed a piece of lint form his lapel and sniffed.

  “This is Professor Thomas Yangley,” explained Kingery. “He’s the avatar I selected to represent the Attistar controlling the sandbox. He’s yours now. You can ask him anything. Summon him whenever you want.”

  The Professor nodded at Scotty. “Greetings Administrator.”

  “Um, hello.” Scott looked the Professor up and down. “You’re the progra
m that runs my universe?”

  “An inaccurate description, but understandable. I maintain the rendering of this child-simulation which is a duplicate of 932883 E -32SRK4471. It is a pocket simulation existing within 4480953 E -28883789 which was designed to answer the question, “what if Adolf Hitler had survived his assassination in 1939?”

  “Oh.” Scott raised an eyebrow. “Uh… I guess I should have paid more attention in history class. How did that make a difference?”

  “The difference is extensive,” said the Professor. “In simulations where Hitler survives, such as this one, Germany loses the war. Your current status is largely a result of that. This outcome, however, is in the minority of percentages.”

  “Strange, isn’t it?” Kingery smiled at Scott. “As it turns out, our simulation is unusual. In most simulations, Hitler dies right after the war starts and the Germans end up dominating Europe.” He pointed upward. “That’s what the world outside this sandbox is like, and let me tell you, it is NOT a nice place. I don’t plan on staying there long.”

  Scott narrowed his eyes at the Professor and folded his arms. “Can I change history?”

  “Yes,” said the Professor. “You may alter this simulation at any point and run its linear progression at will from any temporal locus.”

  “Can I make myself immortal?”

  “You may reset your physical form any time you wish. The simulant you wish to inhabit is entirely up to you.”

  “You mean I can be other people?”

  The Professor sighed impatiently. “I can see we’re going to have semantic issues. Would you like me to adopt your vernacular?”

  Scott nodded.

  “Then yes. You can ‘be’ other people.”

  “More than one at the same time?”

  “That may be difficult for you,” said the Professor. “Unless you’d like me to upgrade your personality’s multitasking capabilities.”

  “Hold on!” Scott waved his hands at the Professor and turned to Kingery. “I seem to recall that’s how you ended up merged with Garibaldi.”

  “Correct,” agreed Kingery. “It’s never a good idea to let the Attistar tinker with your mind. Not without a backup of yourself first so you can reset. But I don’t recommend doing it at all unless you really want to become someone other than Scott Herman. You might not find your way back. I didn’t.” He clasped a hand on Scott’s shoulder. “And now I should say goodbye. You’re the Admin now. The power is yours. Just imagine what you want and will it to happen. Goodbye, Scott, and good luck.”

  Before Scott could respond, Kingery abruptly took his hand away and blinked his eyes rapidly. He backed up with a stunned expression. Spinning around, he stared at the room and its two inhabitants. “What the Hell!?” Focusing on the Professor, he demanded, “Where AM I? I’m on the ground?! How did I get here?”

  Scott frowned in momentary confusion. “Er… Kingery?”

  “YES!” Kingery spun back to Scott. “I’m Kingery. Starman Kingery of the USAF.” He clenched his fists and took a step forward. “Who are YOU?”

  “Um.” Scott turned to the Professor. “What’s happening?”

  “The Lewis Herman mentality,” explained the Professor, “was transferred here while connected to this host. Its personality was stored in a buffer. When Lewis departed, he restored its connection. I assume his motive was one of mercy, although this simulation will seem strange to Mr. Kingery. His history is markedly different than your own.”

  Starman Kingery raised his eyebrows. “History? What are you talking about?”

  “Freeze him in place,” Scott commanded. “I mean, stop time for him.”

  The Professor nodded. “As you wish.”

  Kingery’s motion ceased. His body lost balance and slowly toppled backwards, landing heavily with a deep boom that shook the house.

  Scott glared at the man on his floor. “Great.” The beep of a car alarm sounded outside from the driveway and his eyes widened. “Lisa! Oh crap! I can’t explain this to her right now. Um…” He pointed at Kingery. “Put him in the closet!” he ordered the Professor. “And then go away until I call you back.”

  Kingery and Thomas Yangley both vanished just as the door opened. A tall woman with long black hair stepped in. A young blond eight year old boy bounded from behind her and raced up to Scott, jumping up to give him a hug.

  “DAD!”

  “Darion! Hey!” Scott smiled and set him down. “Were you brave?”

  “It only hurt a little,” said Darion. “I’m glad it’s over though.”

  “He got all his shots,” said Lisa. She took off her coat and headed for the hall closet.

  Scott smiled and suddenly realized he hadn’t specified which closet to put Kingery in. His smile vanished and he stepped forward quickly, grabbing the coat from Lisa. “Here. Let me get that for you.”

  “Thanks.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek and walked past. “Why’s the salt on the floor?” she called from the kitchen.

  “Uh… sorry!” he called back. “I must have knocked it over.”

  Scott peeked into the closet. The enraged frozen face of Kingery stared back at him from between the coats. Dismayed, he covered Kingery’s head with the Lisa’s jacket and shut the door. He had to do something fast. He wasn’t sure if he knew how but there was no time like now. Taking a deep breath he imagined Kingery vanishing from the closet and appearing in garage, then willed it to happen. When he opened the door, the man was gone.

  “Wow!”

  But was he in the garage or somewhere else? This question became more important when he heard Lisa’s heels clicking in that direction. CRAP! She must need something from the freezer. “Hey, Honey,” he yelled. “I, uh… have you seen the dog?”

  “The dog? Isn’t he in the back yard?”

  Yes, thought Scott, he probably was. “I haven’t seen him all morning.”

  Lisa gave him a weird look. “Scott, if the dog got out of the yard then we need to find him.” She looked up. “Matilda, locate Peewee.”

  Scott pinched his eyes and focused. The dog was… at a park. In Kansas!

  The speaker on the ceiling responded. “Peewee is located in…” the house AI paused. “Peewee’s location is unknown.”

  “What do you mean, unknown?” demanded Lisa. “What was his last location?”

  “Peewee was last located in the backyard,” stated the machine.

  “Did he get out?”

  “That is the logical conclusion,” reported the house AI. “Peewee is not in sensor range, therefore Peewee must be out.”

  “Out where?” she demanded.

  “Unknown.”

  “SHIT!” Lisa shook her head and looked at Scott. “There must be a hole in the fence. Unless someone STOLE him! Oh my God! What if someone stole Peewee?”

  Really? Someone stole the dog? Scott tried to fake a horrified expression although deep inside he wouldn’t be entirely unhappy of the stupid Chihuahua was never seen again. “I’m sure we can find him,” he consoled her. “Matilda, send a drone and search for Peewee.”

  “Dispatching drone.”

  Lisa stomped through the living room toward the sliding glass door. Staying where he was, Scott opened the garage for a quick look. “Lights,” he whispered.

  The frozen body of Starman Kingery lay on top of the stack of boxes they had yet to unpack from their move. Still locked in place with his hands clenched in fists, his blank eyes glared in confusion at the ceiling where the fluorescent bulbs illuminated his clueless expression. Scott bit his lip and focused again, forcing his will upon reality. Kingery would be… in the attic. When Scott opened his, Kingery was gone. “Cool,” he whispered in relief. Lisa never went in the attic.

  “SCOTT!” she yelled from the backyard.

  He turned around. Now what?

  Aftermath

  Two monumentally strange weeks later, Scott Herman visited his father at the clinical care facility where Lewis had been committed for treatment. Quite some tim
e had passed since he’d last seen met this obligation, but Scott didn’t feel guilty, he felt nervous. He couldn’t remember what his Dad was like before his symptoms got worse. All he remembered was his parents fighting. Dad would disappear for days on end. He was always a mess when the police brought him home, and the things he told Scott never made sense. They never made sense to anyone. Today that would change.

  Scott’s car dropped him at the curb and went to park itself. He made his way through the glass front and scanned his eyes at the reception desk. The machine dispensed a badge which he dutifully slapped on his chest. On his way down the hallway, Professor Yangley popped out a bathroom and stepped smartly alongside, matching his pace. Scott gave him a nod.

  The ‘Happy Room,’ as it was commonly referred to, consisted of a large open chamber filled with tables and couches. This was where visitors were allowed to interact with their relatives while they were being treated and, since it was a long-term treatment facility, the room was also used for day-to-day activities.

  Televisions lined the walls, several displaying news reports. The media was abuzz regarding a rash of strange events. One screen discussed how every nuclear weapon on the planet had vanished last week. Each government blamed the other, and without the threat of nuclear deterrent, most nations were massing conventional forces on their borders. World War III appeared imminent.

  Another show talked about changes to the environment. Carbon dioxide levels had suddenly decreased world-wide and sections of the Antarctic Ice Sheet had spontaneously reappeared. Scientists were dumbfounded and predicting that runaway cooling would lead quickly to an ice age worse than any in history.

  The Professor gave Scott an accusatory glare. Scott shrugged sheepishly.

  The patients sat and lounged in various drugged states, most staring off into nowhere. A few colored with crayons. A couple played checkers. They wore soft blue puffy jumpsuits held together with Velcro. Their ages and ethnicities occurred in all possible mixtures. None of them paid any attention to the news screens.