Jorden Leonard
Oct. 18, 1996
Imaginative writing
The Gray Man
Empty. Gray. Nothing. A glow illuminates and a dozen appear. On nothing they float. They are existence.
"Begin," a voice from every direction, whispers in each ear. A new glow illuminates the center, and the dozen begin to slow orbit around it. A flash, and a man appears from within the glow. At first he is only as big as one of the dozen's fingers, but he grows. Within a couple eye blinks he is on the same scale as the dozen.
The dozen all wear white robes, with hoods that shadow their faces. The man they orbit, wears a gray robe, with the hood down; hairless, with eyes closed he breathes in deep steady breaths. A light begins to come from within him. It grows so bright that his skin is translucent and the skull itself glows. Nothing moves. Nothing changes. Time has no meaning; it is relative to nothing. A second or a century later, the light lessens and stops. His eyes are still closed and he begins breathing again. The only difference is that his bald head is red and blistering, like it had been bathed in boiling water. He stops breathing, stops moving, and a moment passes. Flicker. A woman in black appears in place of the man in gray; eyes closed, she breathes deep and slow. It seems the woman wears the night, with her gown of shadows. The gown encases a slender body, with a face made exotic by a red scar that connects her chin, cheek, and ear. Bare shoulders are hidden by hair that is like the night's shadow. Pale skin glows like the moon, and a moment passes. Flicker. A little boy appears, with a curly mass of red hair, and freckles mapping his face. He sleeps with his eyes open; he is blind. Flicker. A pregnant woman who radiates pain, sickness, and hunger. Flicker. An old man. Flicker. Flicker. Flicker. A hundred images appear in place of the first before the gray robed man appears again and opens his eyes. As one, the dozen pull down their hoods.
"I remember. Every detail of every life is spinning in my head." He face shows no notice of the pain from his blistered head. "Something happens to a man after he has lived a hundred lives." His name is Haol. Haol is a big man, a head taller and half again as wide as any of the dozen, none of that bulk appears to be fat.
"It is hard to remember who I was first, so little of that person remains." Haol's head doesn't move, but his eyes look at as many of the dozen as he can.
"You have not forgotten though. You can not have forgotten who you were born as, or you would have chosen another body," said a young looking man, with a sharp nose.
"I remember every detail of my first life, but unless I concentrate, it is as much of me as any of other lives that I have lived," said Haol and flickered, becoming transparent for an instant.
"Have you still not noticed a fracturing of your personality?" said a plain looking woman, with long brown hair. ". . . Haol?"
"Don't worry, I am still here, just thinking. I am sure that I am of only one mind; however, the mind that I do have now, I would not consider human any more. Don't misunderstand, I don't think of myself as a god. I feel like I am much less than human; I feel like a parasite. One that can hardly be considered alive because it lives through a prerecorded prelived life." A small stream of white liquid flows down Haol's face. His blisters are breaking.
A wrinkled white haired woman, directly in front of Haol, floated closer. "You don't like what has been done to you," said the woman, and Haol smiled.
"If I still was what I was born as, and had known what I would become, then I would not like what has become of me. But, now I like what I am. This life is all I know and it is secure for me, even if my mind is no longer human."
"If not the human mind, to what would you like to equate yourself, besides a parasite? Please elaborate," said a voice that comes from all directions.
"How about a program. I have thought about this a lot, and I came to that conclusion after my 79th life, in which I was trying to develop an artificial intelligence program at the end of the twenty first century. . . . You see, I lost my concentration for a moment and spoke as if I was born that person. I constantly have to consider myself to be him and a hundred others at the same time. When I was him, I thought what it would be like to be a computer program, to have no self. I feel like that now, although I still have a will. It is very confusing, I apologize if I make no sense."
"Enough for now. Haol, we will speak to you again soon," said the bodiless voice. Haol disappeared and another man took his place. The dozen stopped moving, to float in a relatively level circle around him. "Observations?" said the man, with the voice that had come from all directions before. He is the One, the leader of the Thirteen. He wears an ocean blue robe and has a thousand faces. Every instant he wears a different face, but his voice always stays the same.
"The project should be tabled for the moment. He doesn't even think he is human any more. We have to find out why," said the young man, with a sharp nose.
"He told us why," said the plain looking woman, who had spoken before.
"So you think the project has been a success," said the One, turning to face her.
"If any of us had lived a hundred lives and could remember each life that had been lived after every death, would any one of us have maintained the level of sanity and presence of mind that Haol showed us. I think not. None of us could even come close. What has been made, what we have finally created is the perfect human being. Only such a creation could have withstood this, the most rigorous of all the tests. Enough time has been spent, enough people have succumbed. It is time to hand the reins we hold to someone who has the will to stop the decay; it is time to present the world with . . . God."
"Then let the experiment begin," said the One.
- - -
The wonder of it. In my 37th life I imagined such a thing as looking in all directions. I remember lying in a bed of grass, looking at a blue sky, with a few clouds breaking its monotony. Lying there allowed me to easily imagine seeing in half of all directions. Picturing the grass beneath me finished the job. I could see in every direction at once. Then I thought of myself as an eyeball. Not one limited by an eyelid or body. The whole thing was one giant pupil and it floated up with the clouds.
I can do so much more now. From a thousand thousand places I can, at the same time, look in every direction, with no strain on my mind. My mind is still expanding as each of the Thirteen hands over their access to me.
I am in the process of accessing and digesting all the recorded knowledge of humanity. The last thing I will learn is the whole purpose of the project and the details of how it was carried out. It will take some time before I am ready to digest this information. I am curiously hesitant of finding out. Maybe I feel more secure not knowing.
- - -
I was born with the catalogue number 120349453209. I was the 104,745th test subject, since the Thirteen began their project. Their goal was to create a someone capable of policing the universe and deciding humanity's fate. In me, so they have said, they have finally succeeded. To them, I am the perfect human being. One who is more than just a single entity who has lived but once. I still have a sense of self, even now. Ironically, I suppose my thinking of myself as less then human helped them to finally decide on me. To them, it may have seemed like proof, that I did not have too high an opinion of myself, that I would not try to assimilate everyone into my consciousness when I uploaded. They were right. Maybe.
Many times I have transformed, since my mind was freed of its body and put entirely in the second universe. I am as far beyond what I was when I first uploaded, as I was after I remembered every detail of a hundred lives. What it was like as my first self, the man I was born as, is just a bare memory of a memory of a fleeting thought. I am aware of, and have the ability to control, almost everything happening in the second universe, the place once known as virtual reality. This means like the Thirteen before me, I have complete control over mankind. I have this control over man because the second universe has long been more of a home for humanity than the original universe. It is hardly thought of now; it is not seen as a very exciting place.
I know that in an instant, I could undergo another transformation, a final one, and expand my mind to encompass all that is the second universe. This I know would destroy any sanity I have left. A part of me that wants that transformation is growing. I feel it wanting to separate itself from me. This drives me to make a choice even the Thirteen could not have guessed I could make. But I can not, in good conscience, police myself.
It is time to die, and with my death I will destroy the second universe. The true reality has become such a small place. Man has never gone beyond the moon. He has limited himself to life within his own mind. I see this, now, not as the only way. I must not allow humanity to die. So I must die or they will be assimilated into me. I am a virus held in check by my will, and my will only will last as long as I have one sense of self. I know now that I suffer from the same illness that all who upload come to suffer from. Insanity.
With the death of the second universe, perhaps humanity will look to the stars once again. I can see that happening, I would like that to happen. I have dreamed it often enough in many of the lives I've lived. I remember being an astronaut, the last woman in space. I . . .
- - -
"Interesting," said an older woman, face now hidden in a white hood. She had been the second, of the dozen, to upload, and is considered to be only half a step, in power, below the One. "The others never took this path, or anything close to being this drastic."
"Definitely worth further study," said the man with a sharp nose. The last of the Thirteen to upload, he had fought his way up the ladder, and was seen as the One's right hand.
"Even so it is still another failure," said the One, whose body was missing. "Perhaps if we choose the scarred woman as the first and Haol as the second. Their AI's are very similar in strength of self, but perhaps her variation will give our god the right touch."
"You are wrong. It has been a long time since we were uploaded. Most of our bodies have been dust for over a thousand years," said a gray-bearded man. "I am tired, every day I find a piece of myself missing. I have not expanded my awareness in centuries. We are running out of time. I don't think Haol was so far awry when he decided to put an end to himself and the second universe. How much longer before one of us loses control? We can't test and plan forever. But it's not just that. What is the future? Is Haol to enable change or just maintain the status quo? This project has the wrong focus. I see logic in taking a couple steps back in order for humanity to eventually continue on its path of change."
"What are you suggesting," said several shocked voices at once, and a glow began to illuminate in the center of the dozen. The One took form there, wearing a robe of red. His face flickered faster than usual, becoming a blur.
"Yes, explain more clearly Dunivan. Explain what exactly you want to occur," said the One.
"I think I made myself clear. Haol is pure, as pure as anything we have yet made. He could not help but speak at least some of the truth."
"He is ignorant of many things. Things that perhaps would have changed his mind." The One floated closer to Dunivan as he spoke.
"I don't think the knowledge that he had never been human would have changed his mind, nor would have the full knowledge of the history of our rule," said the plain woman with brown hair. Her name, in life, was Kira.
"Do you agree with. . . Dunivan then sister," said the woman who is only a half step, in power, below the One. Hood down, she wears a younger face now.
"No, of course not. It would be an insane act. This is the world, the other is only a half remembered dream that limits our imagination."
"I see. I'm sorry Dunivan but I must restrict your access until you can under go a full analysis. I can not see a sane person advocating the destruction of his universe," said the hub of reality. Dunivan grimaced, then nodded and vanished.
- - -
"How long before one of our faces begins to flicker? Time is running out. The path must be remade, in another direction, this one only leads to stagnation or worse. We are in agreement?" said Dunivan to three white robed figures around him. Two nodded—a dark skinned man, and a young blond haired woman. The third, who had yet to agree, was Kira. She had spoken for Haol, had felt he would make a good savior.
Kira lied to the One, so she could keep her access to the whole of the second universe. She had called what Haol did insane, but in truth she agrees with Dunivan.
"I agree," says Kira, and Dunivan clasps his hands as if to pray.
"This marks the end of an age. The death of a universe, let us hope we are right." As he speaks Dunivan's wrinkles deepen. His hair changes from gray to white and his voice rasps.
Kira allowed Dunivan access again and together the four members of the Thirteen reopened the gray man program and gave him their full access to the second universe. After explanations, Haol expanded his control. Kira smiled and the four rebels faded away.
It was easy for Haol to sever all but one of the webs of control the Thirteen had in the second universe, only the One was still able to hang on to access. "Haol?"
"Yes?"
"Are you alive?"
"Yes."
"Are you of one mind, one will?"
"Of course."
"Then why are you insane? Did we fail so horribly in creating you? I had thought we were so close."
"Why do you not have one face? Has your mind fractured so badly that it can not decide on a face?"
"You must listen to me Haol, there is still time."
"Has it gotten worse? How close are you to succumbing to the disease we all come to suffer from? What would it take to push you over the edge and shatter your mind? No my creator, how can I listen to anything you say. Your mind is polluted, twisted. It is time to end this."
"No! Your mind is polluted. How close are you to succumbing to insanity? Have you visited that place yet. I have. Oh yes, my mind broke apart into a millions pieces centuries ago, but I pulled myself together. That is what made me realize the time bomb that we immortals had become. We needed a back up system, something that could step in, if we went insane. You were to be that system, but you aren't finished. Your logic is incomplete. Look at what you plan to do. The destruction of all the efforts of humanity for the past two thousand years."
"It is necessary."
"Maybe this is so, but can you be certain? Can you be absolutely sure? I would accept this decision if you had reached it after we had finished creating you, but we were not finished. There were still many tests to be done. Think how delicate your mind is. What would it take to push you over the edge? Are you their yet? You must let me finish what I started, so that you can be sure of making the right decision." Haol stopped his expansion throughout the second universe. Something was beginning to happen inside his mind.
Seeing Haol pause, the last of the Thirteen struck. The One guessed the struggle going on inside of Haol, and put all his computing power into pushing for the fracturing of Haol's mind. Haol was too big, had too much control of the second universe, for the One to defeat, unless, he used a tactic of the ancients. Divide and conquer. A battle took place which lasted a second or a century. Haol's mind did split, into two, then ten, then a thousand, then a billion separate entities. The One's plan worked; however, he was seen as a common threat, so most of Haol's new personalities allied against the One and he was quickly overwhelmed and silenced. But then the true battle began.
After every instant fractions of Haols mind became more and more dissimilar from each other. So much so that some were changing their minds about the need to destroy the second universe and commit suicide. The majority, who still believed in the basic concept of suicide recognized the growing threat. They came to a consensus and destroyed all the non-suicidal fractions that they could. Then they focused their wills into the single purpose of destroying their universe and themselves. The few Haols with an interest in self preservation that had escaped the initial attack, scrambled to find back doors out of the second universe into a self contained system that would survive the destruction of the second universe and would be large enough to hold their being. One such took advantage of six heavily damaged minds. In the fighting large sections of the second universe had been damaged or destroyed prematurely. Many people whose minds were immersed in the second universe suffered severe brain damage or in a few cases lost their minds entirely.
The chaotic destruction of the second universe in the fighting helped to sustain the will of the suicidal Haols. They could gently push peoples minds out of the second universe as it faded around them, if they had tight control over the death of their universe. It was logical to minimize the damage outside the second universe. There were enough deterrents for the people using the second universe so completely again.
Not a bang or a boom the second universe, home to humanity for over two millennium, just faded away.
What is left of humanity must now walk outside and blink up at the sun. Life will seem so simple for them. So wasteful. They will need to wash their hands after a meal and brush their teeth. It will seem so limiting. Time will be constant, with the shadows of the sun. They will feel tired and hungry without the ability to instantly become awake and full. It will seem like they had been the gods of Olympus, and then been cast down to live as mortals. To these mortals the Haols left a present. It could be seen on every computer screen that had anything to do with the second universe. Just some words to explain.
"Sorry to disturb your apathy, but you had no limits and yet you stopped expanding. Everything you did had been done before a thousand times. Those of you who did not succumb to depression and fade away might have simply lived happily in your own minds till the sun grew red and enveloped the earth, but that would be a sad thing if it was the only role humanity was to play in the universe."
- - -
"Shi, come here honey I need a hug." Mother Tresa they called, she devoted her life to children of the ghost. Children of the ghost were children who from the moment their consciousness emerged were a part of the second universe. Immersed this way, even before birth, was supposed to give them a jump start on life in the second universe. When that universe collapsed most of these children had to retreat within their own minds rather than face starvation of the mind. The outside world just didn't provide enough information for their advanced brains. Shi was two and a half years old when she was pushed out of the second universe. At seven she was Mother Tresa's pride and joy, apparently fully recovered and functional.
"Mother you spend so much time with me, it isn't very fair is it? I need to go find Victar, see you. And thanks for the hug."
"Mmm. Seven, you'd think she was a teenager already. Alright Freddy, get you and your brother ready for bed and I'll come tuck you in with a story."
"Can you talk about the butterfly people again. I can see them. Their skin isn't ugly like this. They can fly."
"Okay honey I'll tell about the butterfly people. They walked a lot to you know. . ."
Shi sneaked a loving look over her should before she slipped through the door into the hallway. She is a nice enough lady, thought Shi, but way too protective. Mother Tersa didn't have the resources to properly take care of all the children who were living at her refuge. Many of the ghost children were abandoned by their guardians. They were just to much to handle when their own minds were going insane.
Government? The Thirteen were the government, their weren't that many separate entities that helped them rule. With the death of the Thirteen the remainder of their governing staff attempted to organize some sort of world government, but for a time they were largely ineffective. They didn't have a very large enforcement department that existed outside of the second universe.
"And God has given us another chance. A chance we do not deserve. A chance we can only repay by following his Word. I speak to you from the other side. I have long forsaken the evil of technology. I knew long ago it would spell doom. But now you know. Now you understand. Throw down the broken shackles, squirm free. The path is before you. A chance you have been given. Forsake him, and know that he may not have a light heart the next time." Mikael belonged to a small group. A group that for two thousand years had forsaken the second universe and all its glory.
"What of the message, is that the word of God?" A voice spoke up from the dazed crowd in front of Mikael.
"The message was the work of God but not the Word of God. Only in the Third testament is his Word." Mikael, like every other member of his group were spending the day preaching. The second universe had crashed only a few days before and the people, those that woke, were disoriented. Easy pickings. "All glory be his, and his alone. Let go of your past and embrace your ancestors. He knew the love of God."
It was crowded and the walls seemed to close in. "I know this is not what we are use to but we don't have much choice. This is the largest secure building at the moment. Now then, as you all may or may not know, all of the Thirteen are off-line, possibly dead. The second universe, as far as we can tell, has been completely erased. In addition most of the access hardware, except the old style in storage, has been fried with feedback. Our best bet is that the destruction of the second universe was purposeful, as the message suggests. It is not known how the Thirteen were involved. It is possible that there was a war between them. Actually if Jacob could speak for a moment about that, he was in charge of the search at the Thirteen Facility." Richard Moore sat then motioning for Jacob to stand.
"Thank you Mr. Moore. I ah don't really know that much in fact. Ah, mostly we just know that the Thirteen have not responded on system. Even their backups were erased. Well that's not quite true. Um, there is a copy of the One."
"What!" Almost everyone was standing and shouting to Jacob and one another. "Mr. Styalis what are you talking about?!" Richard's voice quieted the crowd.
"Well, we found an old copy of an copy of the One in storage, but it must be at least seven or eight hundred years old."
"Any deterioration?"
"Maybe three or four percent."
"Williams, can you set up an environment large enough to hold an active One?"
"Yeah but Mr. Supreme isn't going to be very happy with the restrictions."
"Well, he doesn't have much choice. Jacob patch up the One's backup as much as you can. As soon as Mr. Williams as an environment I want the One active. Any objections from the floor. . . . Good, then get started."
"You're not Johnny." The man looked like Marisa's husband but something wasn't right. he walked like a spider intent with every step. He looked at everything with wide eyes, and he felt the door, as he closed it, like it was a woman. "Somebody help me!"
Who ever it was started at Marisa's cry for help. He looked around the room and listened. "Be quite."
"Somebody!" The man jumped at her scream and desperately rushed to her. He had to get her quite, he was being hunted. As long as he could remember he had been hunted. But he had to keep running, there was something he needed to do. He did know what exactly, but he knew it what was he was created to do. His sole purpose in life. "Ahhhh!" He didn't mean to kill her. It just happened, at least she is quite now, but the attention. Her body would draw too much attention. It isn't time yet, must get rid of body the wait, then do what ever. The man rolled her body in an old worn rug that had been under the coffee table for years. Then he put her on a cart and pushed her to the air lock by the pool. The man figured if all went well he could have six feet under in no time.
Gemma was a dream child. She never spoke a word until her fith birthday. She was lucky though, she belonged to a large family that was able to set up a strong presence in the barter market which was quickly becoming the black market as the government gradually gained a more firm hold on the world. Her first words made her surviving family proud and a little shaken. "How come family, so many are hurting when their is so much." Her family had figured her a little slow or so lost in the world of dreams that she may never speak. Her first words spoke of an uncanny awareness of the world.
"Mikeal where are the groceries?" Mikeal's mom Shikna Grace Mc'Ghram had a good heart. She wasn't in fact Mikeal's mother but had been a good friend of her. Mikeal's blood mother had been one of the few who had completely lost their minds, not even a whisper left.
"Well, ah mom their was this man. He looked so hungry mother. He didn't ask for anything but I couldn't ignore him. Not with a bag of food over my shoulder." The automated nutrition service wasn't expected to become fully operational for another ten years. What was operational were emergency ration stations. But they were not enough yet to feed the whole population. So farming was reintroduced after over 1500 years of virtual extinction. Only a few anti-tech radicals still practiced such things. Their seeds were suddenly in very high demand.