The Machinery Of Light Part 46

"Have you spoken with Him?"

"I've felt felt Him-" Him-"

"Real trick's getting an answer," says Haskell.

Her voice is coming from all around-from every screen that's hung about the inner Room. The face of Claire Haskell sits on all of them. Each one's saying the same thing.

"Nice to see you again, Matthew."

Linehan's already clocked it-Haskell's body's still contained within that pod. Sinclair isn't even bothering to look. Presumably he's already taken it all in. He's just gazing at one of those Haskells on one of those screens-smiling as he does so- "So glad you could join us, Claire."

"But you weren't counting on it, were you?"

"Such a.s.sumptions don't-"

"Your future-sensing ended when you got to the Room."

Sinclair says nothing. And suddenly Haskell's voice sounds in Carson's head- get ready to move fast The Operative shakes his head violently as though to clear it-can't seem to establish any kind of return communication. He has no idea what the h.e.l.l she's planning-no idea if it's even her her anymore. Maybe Sinclair doesn't either. Because Haskell's voice has taken on what might almost be a certain wary confidence- anymore. Maybe Sinclair doesn't either. Because Haskell's voice has taken on what might almost be a certain wary confidence- "I'm right, aren't I? You knew exactly what would happen up until the point you stepped within. But you can't postulate the condition of a structure cut off from all s.p.a.ce. Nor could you antic.i.p.ate what course your creation would take when cut off from all time, a bubble universe adrift amidst the sea of-"

"But there you go again," says Sinclair. "With your a.s.sumptions. A luxury the trapped can't afford."

Some of the Haskells laugh. "You think I'm trapped?"

"I have your flesh, don't I?"

"You of all people should know that meat means nothing-"

"We'll see if that's true when I burn it."

The Operative notices something. Sinclair's eyes are tracking on some of the screens, ignoring others. He wonders if any of the others have noticed this. But everybody else seems just too intent on trying to keep up- "Do that and you won't find your way home," says Haskell.

"Home?" Sinclair laughs. "Why would I want to go home?" home?"

"How else are you going to rule humanity-"

"And go back in time to change it," says Lynx.

"I'm not," says Sinclair.

"What?" asks Lynx.

"You can't can't go back," says Sinclair. "Travel to the past is travel to a go back," says Sinclair. "Travel to the past is travel to a parallel parallel past by definition. Thus do the laws of quantum gravity sidestep paradox. And as to going back to the future of the world we left, Claire: a better question is, why would I want to?" past by definition. Thus do the laws of quantum gravity sidestep paradox. And as to going back to the future of the world we left, Claire: a better question is, why would I want to?"

That last one seems to catch her off guard. "You-don't-?"

"I don't know if you noticed, but Earth really went to the dogs these last few days."

"Thanks to you-"

"Can't make an omelette without ... well, what can I say? There are only so many ways to hammer a hole into the next dimension. Ma.s.s killing was always one of the more direct routes-"

"That was just one part of it," she says coldly.

"Sure. First we had to get a bridgehead established."

"Me," she says.

"Us," says Sarmax. says Sarmax.

All of them, and he's been left to live with it all: his role as the original prototype, his part in the creation of the ultimate hit-team, his days training those who would take his place, his nights with the woman whose body sprawls in front of him- "Exactly," says Sinclair. "The Rain. And only Leo here had any idea what he was getting into."

"I was young enough to be into masochism."

"A vice that failed to fade with time."

"f.u.c.k you, Matthew."

"Do you want to see Indigo again or don't you?"

"I see her in my mind right now, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

"That might be all you ever do."

"Didn't you once tell me that memory is real?"

"Everything in the mind is real," says Sinclair. "Though it got a lot more complicated once I'd remixed your head with all the histories of your other selves-" in the mind is real," says Sinclair. "Though it got a lot more complicated once I'd remixed your head with all the histories of your other selves-"

"I thought Control was lying when he said-"

"He wasn't. How else do you think I got a duplicate Marlowe into the mix? Took a sh.e.l.l and charged charged it with emissions seeping in from-" it with emissions seeping in from-"

"f.u.c.k," says Sarmax. He feels like he's been punched in the gut. He notices Carson and Lynx seem to have the same reaction- says Sarmax. He feels like he's been punched in the gut. He notices Carson and Lynx seem to have the same reaction- "This is bulls.h.i.+t," says Lynx.

"I'm sure you wish it was."

"But-they-the memories of those years-they were all consistent," consistent," says Sarmax. says Sarmax.

"Consistent at any given instant. Not necessarily across across instants, though-" instants, though-"

"Jesus," says Lynx, "that's why it's been such a head trip."

Lynx's mind's spinning, but it's finally all starting to make sense. Sinclair reprogrammed them with the real memories of others, left so much latent-and tapped so much else to enable telepathy among his agents, breaking down the walls that are- "Everywhere," says Lynx. says Lynx.

Sinclair nods. "s.p.a.ce-time riddled with bubbles; quantum foam that pervades us, each bubble a momentary wormhole, and all of it entangled. And once you postulate that Einstein's hidden variable is actually consciousness consciousness, then the mind's real significance in driving nonlocality becomes apparent. Unless, of course, your civilization is so dysfunctional it's based on blinding itself to the obvious. Of course Of course minds can link. Animals do it all the time. Just watch flocks of birds changing direction. Or the hive minds of bees and ants. But the human animal shackled itself in chains of language-language that opened up new possibilities even as it foreclosed others-" minds can link. Animals do it all the time. Just watch flocks of birds changing direction. Or the hive minds of bees and ants. But the human animal shackled itself in chains of language-language that opened up new possibilities even as it foreclosed others-"

"I thought you said you blamed religion," says Linehan.

"'In the beginning was the Word': what the f.u.c.k do you think language is? is? How else do we label the universe?-and so much of that labeling is the papering-over of things we don't understand. Why do humans have to be so f.u.c.king certain about How else do we label the universe?-and so much of that labeling is the papering-over of things we don't understand. Why do humans have to be so f.u.c.king certain about everything everything even when they know even when they know nothing?" nothing?"

No one says anything.

"I'll tell you why. They don't have the strength to gaze into abyss."

"Unlike you," says Haskell.

His eyes snap toward her, and she's wondering if he's realized what's up with the screens. Or if he's way ahead of her ...

"I'm going to find you," he says.

"You can try," she says.

"But she's right there," says Linehan.

"I'm talking about her awareness," awareness," says Sinclair. "On what sunless seas is she traveling? What stars gleam in the s.p.a.ces through which she's soaring? Is she even now beachcombing the sh.o.r.es of inflating universes?" says Sinclair. "On what sunless seas is she traveling? What stars gleam in the s.p.a.ces through which she's soaring? Is she even now beachcombing the sh.o.r.es of inflating universes?"

"She is," she whispers-he's right. They stretch all about her, whole hierarchies of dimensions, endless grids of no-grids, vast innation fields, pure information begetting endless chains of existence ripping past her, each one described by a wave-function that in itself describes a whole multiverse within it, infinite possibilities of some larger megaverse megaverse, the myriad paths stretching out on all sides and she can only see just a f.u.c.king fraction fraction of it all. She takes in the plight and promise of infinite humanities, sees too- of it all. She takes in the plight and promise of infinite humanities, sees too- "Tell me we're not the only ones," says Sinclair. says Sinclair.

"We're not," she replies-sees in his eyes that he gets it, knows he can't wait to see it-the limitless forms of life that populate existences-so many of those worlds just life and nothing more and some of them rising up toward intelligence, and some of that intelligence becoming starfaring- she replies-sees in his eyes that he gets it, knows he can't wait to see it-the limitless forms of life that populate existences-so many of those worlds just life and nothing more and some of them rising up toward intelligence, and some of that intelligence becoming starfaring- "But what about in here?" says Sinclair. says Sinclair.

"I see nothing," nothing," she says. she says.

"Nothing's managed to slip between the cracks of time?"

"What the f.u.c.k are you talking about?" asks Carson.

"I'm talking about the compet.i.tion," compet.i.tion," says Sinclair. says Sinclair.

"You mean aliens?" aliens?" asks Linehan. asks Linehan.

"They wouldn't even have to be that," that," says Sarmax. "Could be any other humanity that's managed to crack the code-" says Sarmax. "Could be any other humanity that's managed to crack the code-"

"We have to a.s.sume others have done it," says Sinclair. "Have to a.s.sume that they're out there, maybe maneuvering against us even now-"

"Other Sinclairs," says Sarmax.

"Other Haskells," says Lynx. "Infinite numbers who have accomplished-"

"There are," she says. "They've converged."

"Meaning what?" asks Carson.

"They're all me."

Linehan's the only one I might be able to get to The voice rings out clear within him, but it's not telling him anything he doesn't already know. Sarmax is going to side with Sinclair rather than face a life without the woman he lacked for so long. Lynx will play the chameleon to the end. And the Operative can only wonder if Sinclair has planted some last trick within his head. He glances at him again-sees that he's focused only on Haskell now- "So you're really a nexus," says Sinclair.

"There must must be others-" be others-"

"Presumably. That's what makes this so exciting."

"That's why you said you didn't want to go back."

"And now you see what I mean. It's like we're on a ladder. All we can do is climb the rungs. All this talk about world-conquest, and all it signifies is how small everybody's been thinking. The whole point of the eternity-game is to get out there and stretch your legs." get out there and stretch your legs."

"Eternity?" asks Lynx.

"Every last one of them," says Sinclair.

"You can make me live forever?"

"Been wondering when you'd get around to asking that."

"Stefan," says the Operative, "back off."

"What do you mean?" asks Lynx.

"I mean he's tempting us with whatever we most desire."

"More than just tempt," says Sinclair.

"You can really deliver?" asks Lynx.

"Haskell's already cheated death. No reason the rest of us can't either."

"Has it occurred to you that might be a bridge too far?" says the Operative.

"No need to get all mystical," says Sinclair. "Death is merely the ultimate event horizon. And Claire's already crossed it. She's seeing things that no one has a hope of seeing until they expire. Access to states of consciousness that one typically has to give up the body to get to-"

"I did did give up my body," she says. give up my body," she says.

"But I have yet to cut the cord," he replies.

Which you'd be a fool to do."

Except she's nowhere near as confident about that as she's trying to sound. Even though her body seems just like a fiction to her now, she's under no illusions that it gives Sinclair advantage. She feels like a balloon on a tether that he's controlling-feels like all her purview is merely a function of his sufferance, that everything that's happened is still part of the way he intended it. She takes in the Room, an anchor far beneath her-takes in the way it hangs amidst nothing, superimposed against the core of the Moon of one universe in particular, superimposed against all those other Moons in all those other universes-all of them resolving themselves into Sinclair's face. She can see he's only looking at a few of the images on those screens now-that many of the remaining screens are starting to wink out. That he's almost narrowed down her coordinates. That as soon as that happens- "You're mine, child. You can't escape that-"

"But whose are you?"

"I think you know the answer to that."

But she doesn't. Not when the real question is how this all began. Did Matthew Sinclair become the tool of some ent.i.ty that reached in from beyond to give him guidance as part of some unholy barter? Or did he accomplish this all on his- "What makes you think there's a difference?" he asks.

"What?"

"Whatever I summon, I consume."

"Just like he did with Control," says Carson.

"I thought you built built Control," says Lynx. Control," says Lynx.