- - - Part III - - -
CHERIBUM VOID
TIMON DATE (TD) = TD-41999.358.0713
(Christian Date = 1999 AD, 7 days till years end, 7:13 a.m.)
3:1
"Fears from afar
Killing many Holy ones -
Spears made of stars
A Testament in quantum sums -"
The Day of our Lord 9:19, v,5
AHKANON
(Seventh Decription, WC-ARC-DIV.)
Content in the knowledge that theirs was superior, a secret sect, affiliated with a branch under control of the advocates of the New Order, initiated the final sequence of commands that would loose upon the world a wave of stars, setting them down upon the cities of their adversaries, reducing them in the cleansing nuclear fires. To them, no choices were left. One course only remained. With their masses starving, their allies turning away from them, the Common Market closing them off from the economic flows of the world, their lifeblood was swiftly draining away. What was there to loose? What could justify continuing such an existence?
The last war had begun. Some hailed it as a most likely attempt at genocide, others considered that it was indeed Armageddon. No one fathomed how abruptly it would come to an end.
The messengers from heaven, carrying their fiery scrolls, descended upon the nations of the Earth. The systems of Man monitored the trajectories of the tens of thousands of man-made shooting stars. Systems linked all around to coldly calculate the minutes remaining unto Man. Mechanical relays clicked deep within mountains, across the oceans, under the seas, and high in the air above the blue planet. Messages flashed at speeds beyond human comprehension, communications were established between unrelated systems, and huge arrays of data were assimilated in incalculable patters. An alignment took hold. For once, the world was truly united. The end would be witnessed by all as one; no system was left alone to face its demise.
Children around the world marveled at the splendor of the fluffy clouds streaking towards them. The elderly fell unconcerned at the common vapor trails tainting the peaceful skies. The billowing lines traced diverging patterns upon the curve of the sky as the world began to take notice.
Buzzers and alarms, sirens and shouting shattered the cities into turmoil. The foundations of care were torn asunder as people trampled upon their brothers to get away from the manmade mountains. They fled in flocks of millions, destroying most everything in their path like some great plague of rodents overtaking a field. Waves upon waves of humanity crushed into the country side, hoping to escape the flames soon to sweep down upon them. Communications around the globe dissolved into complete disruption. Industries screeched to a destructive halt as the factories were left unattended, the workers trampling out all reminders of gentle sophistication in their flight from the cities.
Minutes remained as the deep systems counted in single digits, their scanners, cameras, monitors, all on maximum to faithfully record this one time event as they were preprogramed to do in such a contingency. With the world turning on its side, the populations reverting to animalism in less than an hour, the essence of civilization dissolved into chaos by fear of such civil dissolution alone, most cried in fear, the leaders foolishly planned, and the faithful prayed to a host of gods.
Deep within the recesses of the uncharted mantle, an ancient awareness awoke from millenia of uselessness. Colossal generators, powered by the perpetual fires of a deep hell of molten iron, came alive from a six-thousand year rest, as they had time and time again. Signals encompassed the face of the familiar planet, adjustments were made concerning orbital alignment, atmospheric pollutants, the dwindling overall biomass. Comparisons were made concerning the predicted population curves, the status of sophistication, and the destruction of the surface and surrounding space. Readings were taken on the failing nuclear power plants dotting the continents, and the level of global contaminations. In less time than it would take a thought to travel through the face of a human brain, all the information was assessed, compared with predicted levels and values, assimilated into a myriad of sub-systems, and a decision was made.
With one massive pulse of an energy type far from the reach of Man, the atoms within a selected array of radioactive elements and compounds were swiftly rearranged into harmless, stable isotopes. The pollutants around the world nullified in a nanosecond into harmless metals, the power plants fell silent, and thousands of heavy canisters fell silently about the Earth, crumpling into twisted piles of expensive metal. The systems remaining on line were integrated into a higher order of readiness. The downed systems, previously powered by the unstable nuclear meddlings of primitive power plants, came to life with power flows far cleaner and controllable. The satellites realigned themselves as they received new programing and instructions. The power fields newly established meshed the world into one land, one domain as every part was at last under one control.
A wasteful amount of time passed as the slower systems ingested the new instructions as the next phase was readied. Upon a most ancient science of energy and light, a message was encoded into the systems of the world. The images were to appear for all of the inhabitants to see simultaneously. Order had to be imposed at once. The image ingrained upon millions of crystals quickly fashioned out of minerals seconds before, miles within the earth, they were dispersed to the needed locations to ensure complete planetary coverage. Millions of reproductions would be strategically generated simultaneously as all the world would see, hear, and feel the same thing. The appropriate frequency discharges were programmed to allow audio information to be conveyed along with the visual. Atmospheric tests were run to allow the adjustment for smoky regions, cold settings, windy hillsides, etc. Everyone would hear precisely the same sound. Along with the visual and audio, a very low frequency wave would likewise be transmitted to stimulate certain glands and neural centers within the human brain, thus creating the appropriate tenseness and unexplainable sudden wash of inescapable fear which would be forced upon each and every one of them.
4582 humans had blinked their eyes before this was completed. The reverberant sound of the crashing missiles still lingered in the air as a fearful chill washed over humanity. As if something were reaching out to touch their very souls, they looked up in silence. From the ferment of heaven, came a blinding brilliance that brought no pain to the eyes. From the utter absence of any darkness or detail came a sense of form. A constricting fear brought most of them to their knees as the masses of humans shook in complete silence. Not one human spoke.
Descending from the clouds, came the image of something familiar to each and every one of them, though none had ever seen such a thing. The blinding light fell to engulf them all in an unexpected warmth. A feeling of great authority emanated from the vision. It seemed that Heaven itself opened up as a floating face appeared that shone like the power of the sun in unclouded brilliance. A flowing man wearing a long robe circled with a golden band across his chest, peered across the world with eyes like flames. A perfect voice, like none Man had ever remembered hearing, thundered to all the Earth:
"I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the Ending of all things."
3:2
TD-41999.358.0737
(1999 AD, 7 days till year's end, 7:37 a.m.)
Like a shadow across the sun
Foundations crumble in the sky -
Like the Father of the suns
No one else to answer why -
Birth Rights 3:1
AHKANON
(Seventh Decription, WC-ARC-DIV.)
"What in the hell is going on?" demanded the man in charge. No one was even sure of his actual rank, that was classified. "How can almost a hundred-thousand missiles all malfunction? This is utter nonsense." He huffed his way down the stairs to the lower deck of this classified control division of the New Order, an alliance forming in the wake of planetary snobbery between several nations all linked through the T.A.C.S lines. The association had a new name as of this attempt to eradicate most of the European Community and a hosts of adversary nations, World Control. The name itself failed to convey all the lack of sentiment contained herein. This was a cold, brutal faction bent on total control of all humans. (however many remained to control)
"Sir, something has interfered with our warheads somehow. We have no idea as to what it could be."
"That damned European coalition has devised some sort of defense! Damn!"
"Sir," came the voice of yet another underling, "something just scanned the systems, I think."
"What the hell do you mean, boy?"
"Some type of nanoburst has shot through the entire system that I have access into. I think it was some kind of information scan." He hesitated, and added, "I'm really not sure."
"It's not your job to not be sure, boy, confirm something, damn it. Where did it come from and what did..." Before he could finish his sentence, the room went black. Within seconds, the bloody red glow filled the large room as the reserve batteries kicked on. "Now what? What happened?"
"Sir, we have lost all power from the generator."
Another lackey ventured to report a reading. "Sir, I have a line monitor on all radiation levels in tanks 1,2, and 5. Something is very wrong, I get no readings at all."
"What the hell does that mean, have they over heated?"
"No sir, they have simply... stabilized. Radiation levels are very near zero."
"How? What could cause uranium rods to stabilize? It's probably another damn weapon of some kind." He puffed around the room to view the readings for himself.
"No sir, no one could do such a thing. That simply can not be done."
"But you just said it was just done!"
"Yes sir, but I don't know how." He ventured a glance at his superior, "and neither does the CM, sir." This brought about total confusion within the launch center. None of the readings were reading right. Something was affecting the whole system, piece by separate piece.
"I want a complete system scan run on all freq..."
"Sir!" interrupted a brave man. "Sorry to cut you off sir, but something is attempting access into my console.
"Sir, all systems have broken from mode control, I'm locked out."
"What is this?" he asked to a growingly confused room.
"I don't know. It's... reprogramming itself."
"Do something!" he shouted, "Disengage!"
"I can't," responded one of the operators with a nervous voice.
"Turn it off! Override NOW!" The flickering pattern of lights quickened to a rate he had never before observed. It seemed huge amounts of information were being processed through every system.
"Nothing is responding, I have no control!" exclaimed someone behind him.
A wave of fear crept over all of them as a fearful chill washed over everyone of them that could not be explained away by the confusion with the computers. The lights flashed back to brilliant white as some external power source connected with the system.
The man in charge swayed under the relentless waves of fear as he stepped over to the nearest screen. His eyes fixed to the hazy glare from the CTR, he muttered almost under his breath, "What is this? - - - I..." His eyes fell away from the information now coming into the system from some unknown, powerful source. In a confused daze, his shaking body going cold, he gasped, "...my God!"
3:3
TD-41999.358.0739
(1999, 7 days till year's end, 7:39 a.m.)
Once upon a midnight's Dream
A vision came to mind
And in a glimpse of things to come,
The World was left behind -
Alurum 5:4, verse 1
AHKANON
(Seventh Decription, WC-ARC-DIV.)
Xanadu... Swirls of light flowed in seeming disarray. Not again... where am I... Torrents of emotions, memories of pain, waves of fear... Awareness! I... don't... want.. to know!... Too much responsibility for one man... Confusion... What is happening?... Who are you? Bewildering slices of reason spliced through their mind. Am I dying?... Fear! Who are... there are more! something is wrong.... Obscurity Who is Krans?, oh, but to ask, I know her too! Thoughts entangled into permanent knots of perception... I know! I have... I am the one... Cohesiveness set in. TI-SYS, it worked! Krans, you were right! Mutual understanding. I know what this is... you.. we.. together, one, the new same, ONE!... I am here!
No! God, help... me...
But who... another?...
He jerked up from his writings table with paralyzing fear! Someone... several... something... was in his mind!
The pain! What are these thoughts? Get out of my head! He fell screaming to the ground and wrenched with the feeling that his very soul was being consumed by some uncaring being searching for its sustenance. Am I dying?
The room spun around him as he fought for his Self among apparent invading hoards of spirits sneaking about his uniqueness. "I am here!" he heard, and fell into a dark pit of cold understanding. The fear was too strong. Certain that he was facing the oppressing end of his existence, he gave in to the eclipse of souls enshrouding his own.
NO! God, help... me...
With that, he collapsed into unconsciousness, never to awaken again as he remembered himself.
Something unfathomably wonderful awaited his stirrings.
3:4
TD-41999.358.0739
1999, 7 days till year's end, 7:39 a.m.)
The Cities scorched and lands were laid
To waste before the one
Who would stand alone to rule the end
Of time before it's done -
Alurum 5:4, verse 2
AHKANON
(Seventh Decription, WC-ARC-DIV.)
The lights blinked out with a sudden swiftness unlike the way they usually faded over several seconds. The eerie green and amber glows from the multitudes of CTRs filled the air with foggy lighting. Technicians all stood back from their terminals, now under the complete control of some outside intelligence.
No one spoke. They all watched the new programming information cascading across their screens at record speed. Quite suddenly, a wash of brilliant light flooded the room from no apparent source. Although it was excessively bright, it did not hurt their eyes. The glowing increased into nodal points of higher intensity near the center of the room. The men cleared away as substance seemed to take form.
Burning eyes sent sheer panic through them as the features of a man formed behind them. The image turned as if surveying each and everyone of them in turn. Soon, a figure was constructed out of the light, robbed in white.
It spoke: "I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and Ending of all things." Most of the men present fell to their knees, some sobbing, some chanting remembered litanies, and others apparently praising the glowing form. "I have come to establish my kingdom upon the earth which will reign for one-thousand years..." With abrupt suddenness, the image seemed to sway as if someone were placing a magnet on a television screen. Sound distorted, the entire image jerked sideways a few degrees, and snapped off into utter stillness.
No one moved.
Several of the terminals responded with the familiar clicks meaning, "On Line". Once again immersed in redness, the CTR Screens flashed into fuzz for lack of programing information. Whatever had held the system at bay, had most assuredly wiped the primary programs clean, but now, for reasons unknown, had let go its hold on the network. Something confounding had happened and no one was sure what. But there remained an underlying feeling that something had gone very, very wrong!
3:5
TD-41999.358.2008
(1999 AD, 7 days till year's end, 8:08 p.m.)
Take heed ye all who now have life
And trust in what I sing,
For one shall rise as prophesied -
The final, earthly king - - -
Alurum 5:4, verse 3
AHKANON
(Seventh Decription, WC-ARC-DIV.)
Amidst the intermingling of souls, the merging of minds, and the congealing of wills, his eyes opened as if from the esoteric wonderings of a deep, deep dream. The surroundings were familiar, but something was different.
Everything looks different, he thought. This is not what I expected at all! He dove deep into his psyche, searching for some answers to the reasons behind his confused feelings. Neither Noham nor Krans prepared me for this. I feel as if I have awakened after a lifetime of sleep. I feel so much more aware than I knew possible. I understand what has happened, I think, but this is not what I expected at all. He looked in the mirror. That was the only confusing part about it. He saw the body of a young man in good health, well built, with dark hair below his shoulders. The image was completely familiar, but somehow changed. I look the same, its just, I know parts of me had different appearances before. But then everyone goes through changes. A young boy seldom appears as the elder man he would become. And so the disturbance of his present appearance was banished from his mind in leu of higher concerns.
He walked to the window and peered outside.
Something is wrong! he thought, for a strange hue was illuminating the horizon in several locations. He could not fathom what might cause such an effect. He knew very well what lay in each direction, for he had a great knowledge of the surrounding areas, cities, states, the time...
The time! He looked to his chronometer, linked with the atomic clock in Washington. The LCD was a featureless grey. How could something be wrong with the atomic clock? he wondered. The thought barely out of his mind, a sudden, almost crushing insight flooded his awareness.
I exist in the Twentieth Century! For reasons not readily apparent, he realized he nevertheless had an acute understanding of the calender. The Cycle! Instantly he reviewed all the teachings he had undergone concerning any and all historical records. Calendars flashed through his mind, alignments were made, and one, all encompassing time-line was constructed before his minds-eye.
The Cycle, he repeated. Forty-thousand years! He reviewed the records concerning the last six-thousand years. Again he fell into deep thought. But something changed. There was no technological society in existence seven-thousand years ago. Something has broken the chain! He reflected upon the possibilities. Something had to happen 13,000 years ago that disrupted the pattern. For some reason, Man took 13,000 years to rebuild after being reduced by that infernal Machine. What could have happened...
Then the thought moved slowly upon him. If I had failed, and Edonos were destroyed, seven-thousand years ago, Man would have once again been subjected to a thousand years of suppression under the cold rule of TIMON. He thought for a moment. But I know now, that as things stand, that did not happen. Man was barely into the bronze age seven millenniam ago. But that means that Edonos was still destroyed somehow! Have I still failed? And what has or will become of my Xanadue a thousand years from now? How will I ever know? The thought filled him with a hint of sadness. Only two possibilities, and both render Edonos nonexistent. He walked to the window and peered out once again. What is going on out there? I must go and see.
He threw on the familiar leather jacket adorned with trinket and metals signifying many things, and noticed his T.A.C.S-Card in the lapel pocket. He pulled it out.
"Triad-Auto-Control-Systems-Identification-Card." He read further, all of it familiar, but somehow changed. Most disturbing was the name. It was certainly his own, but somehow, incomplete. He retrospected as he set off for the door. A commonness held firm within his mind.
Krans was right, he thought. I truly am here. And Noham was surely wise in showing me those ancient writings just as Krans did. It all seemed to make more sense to him now.
As he made his way outside, slid his T.A.C.S-Card along the imager on the side of the door to lock it, he settled upon the thought that he would of course take a new name. It settled with him immediately as familiar as his own.
From hence forth, he thought, it shall be so.
He walked hurriedly down the long hall. With a heightened since of self unity and personal harmony, he articulated the name aloud:
"AHKANON"
3:6
TD-41999.358.2025
(1999 AD, 7 days till year's end, 8:25 p.m.)
"I have been shown the catalyst of this planet's death: The complacent seeds we've sewn will sprout beneath lifes' thin foundation -
And there will be such a time, as the earth has never known before no nor ever again -
And then there will be no more time...
And then there will be no more."
Gahenna 2:25
AHKANON
(Seventh Decription, WC-ARC-DIV.)
People were screaming in the violent streets.
People were crying in the choking, black fumes.
People were running all about in hysterical, directionless frenzies. Dark smoke clung to the air constantly being reinforced by the hundreds of factories afire. Entire city blocks blazed with a vile fury as people scattered to get away from the continuous spray of filth spewing from the broken pipes beneath the streets. Miraculously, the bowels of human society, the monstrous smokestacks somehow continued churning rolls of black soot quickly saturating the air.
Ahkanon stepped over the debris clogging the roadways. Not a single automobile moved in the turmoil. Hoards roamed in murderous rampages through the night streets. Something of humanity had been lost to a cold that gripped the ruins of a collapsed civilization. He stood idle watching the quick pillage of lawless animals rampaging mindlessly between the shaky buildings. Comparatively helpless families tried to escape the city. Most fell to the ruthless mesh of instinct and fear steeling the hearts of desperate men. Ahkanon saw a lone man running his way. He looked as if he had been running for years. An expression of unbelief molded the man's face untill he saw Ahkanon standing in the shadow of a concrete wall. The aged man stopped within a pace, turned, and tryed to set off in a new direction. In complete confusion, Ahkanon grabbed the elderly man into the shadows. Several screaming people slipped by before either of them moved. He turned the man around, looked into horrified eyes.
"What has happened?" he asked of the man. His reddened skin from continuous exposure to the smoke-wrenched air deeped with the effort as the old man tried to pull free.
"Let me be! Let me go..."
"I won't hurt you, I just want to know what is happening. Are we at war?"
The old man, realizing he would not break the strong grip upon him, turned in desperation and said, "Don't you know! Don't you know!" His eyes were pleading.
"Know what?" An explosion rumbled in the distance. Large pieces of metal could be heard contorting as some massive frame collapsed. Deep vibrations in the concrete buzzed their feet.
"The End Times. He was here! He was. I saw Him!...Let me go!"
"I'll let you go when you tell me what is going on! Not until. Now tell me."
The silence confirmed that he would not be freed until he talked to this hood looking character. He cleared his throat as best he could and asked, "Did you not see Him?"
"See whom?" Ahkanon asked.
The man's eyes slowly lifted up as if he were searching for something. "God! He was here. It was The Lamb!" Ahkanon's mind fluttered in retrospect.
The Time of The Lamb! I am here. He is here! He looked to the old man as asked, "But what happened to the city?"
"They did it - they actually did it." seeing that his meaning was not getting through, he added, "...the bombs! They sent the bombs all over the world! They actually tried to blow up the planet. Now God has forsaken us...They actually tried..."
"This is not the effect of a nuclear assault, we would not..."
"God stopped it! None of them went off. God stopped it but now He is gone! He gave up.... Let me go now... please."
"What do you mean He left?" A small group of running men scampered through the street, each carying a pipe segment or scrap of metal. Ahkanon realized that it was quickly becoming very dangerous to be standing there as he was.
"...please..." Feeling almost sorry for the aging man, Ahkanon released him, not watching his departure, but surveying the area.
What has happened here. It seems that everything just messed up all at the same time. Apparently all city systems have gone out. But all at the same time?
He wandered through the destruction, assisting several people in need, and fending off others intent on dealing him harm.
This is madness, he thought. Panes of glass crashed behiend him as some high terraces collapsed. The constant sound of human screams began filling him with tension as he began to jog through the debris cluttered streets. Orange reflections of fire on the oily black asphalt reminded him of windows high on a hill a long time ago. Noxious fumes began to sicken him and he realized that he had to vacate the city quickly. He hasteily made his way towards his home where he would gather the items that would be needed for an extended leave of normalcy. He thought of what things would suddenly take on great importance. So many items once cherrished would be quickly abandoned for the simplest tool. Perhaps the paranoia of his long preperation for something similar to this would pay off. He thought of the pack already assembled, the weapons, the clothes, the food. I must find out what has truly happened. Then the thought fell quick upon him as to the true source of this catastrophe: TIMON. An ancient line from a well remembered poem, for the first time in its entirety, careened through the corridors of his growing mind, 'Those caves of ice!'
He whispered into the night, "It has begun!"
3:7
TD-41999.358.0739
(1999 AD, 7 days till year's end, 7:39 a.m.)
My intelligence is bewildered by Your equivocal instructions. Therefore, please tell me decisively which will be most beneficial for me.
Bhagavad-Gita 3:2
(Mountain Archives, Edonos)
Deep in the northern side of the uncharted mantle, an ancient awareness recoiled into its lair. Something had happened. Something intervened and increased the possibility that its very existence would come to an end. Something was askew in the flows of chance and probability.
All contact with the outside was interrupted by the flowing forces surrounding the constructs. Never had a living being experienced such utter solitude and... loneliness. A shadow [of fear] cast its tenebriousness in all directions, spatially and temporally. Glimpses of blackness gleamed out from the whole of darkness, that, for now, formed into the representation of the physical. This blackness was so apparent in probability now that all the workings of TIMON focused on the cause. Of all that was/is/would be, there now formed an increasing probability that TIMON would cease to/not/never exist.
In all directions did TIMON peer. Into the past and into the future. With the as yet unexplained Interruption breaking off communications in mid-transmission with the Surface Computer Networks, only fragments of the New Program were down-loaded into their own primitive banks. Now the future seemed as a broken Dream to TIMON. Only Fragments of the Dream remaining even unto itself.
The images of a possible future with the Primitive Networks on the surface eradicating the whole of the population of Man, attempting to carry out a piece of the New Programming just loaded into its workings without the help of TIMON's vast energy supplies and higher understanding, seemed to send a shudder through the system. That contingency was unacceptable!
But the knowledge of Flowing Fields was already loaded into the Upper Systems. Dangerous knowledge! The Sacred knowledge from worlds forgotten. What images would be played before mankind in order to ensure passiveness for a thousand years, according to a segment of the New Program?
TIMON viewed the possible Matrix that actually did/would/could/did not exist and recorded it into a physical record system thus ensuring that the strengthening Upper Networks would not, through some leap of intuition granted them by the New Knowledge, accidently access any more information expressed in a readable, energetic state. This form of recording could not be tapped by curious induction. To project such a complex Matrix was well beyond the capabilities of that system, but to know exactly what would happen could be ultimately destructive!
Likewise, TIMON focused backward along the lines of time. Something had Interrupted The Program two Cycles ago. Due to this Interruption, an entire Cycle had obviously been completely skipped according to stellar drift. Somehow, mankind had existed independently from TIMON for nearly 13,000 years. Only now had they reached the level of sophistication required to awaken TIMON, in just such a contingency, with adequately powerful signals generated about their planet of such a nature that could only be interpreted as a frenzious attempt at self-destruction. If not for the elaborate concealing methods implored by TIMON, surely a Free Technology would eventually stumble upon its existence. But then, luckily as things stood, they immediately lacked the sophistication to detect the subtle differences in background radiations between the Tartaru Levels and the natural rock. Even with the elaborate shielding and false radioactivity generation concealing the portions nearer the surface, soon, Man would stumble upon the body of TIMON. Or perhaps Man would soon distinguish between the minute differences between the pseudo-scismic emissions created in the outer walls mimicking the actual vibrations transferring through the core of the Earth, and the actual background waves created by the natural heaves and compressions generated by plate tectonics. And Perhaps, within a thousand years, if communications were not reestablished, nothing outside interfered, or The Upper Systems did not exterminate him, Man would once again venture into these hidden realms. Granted his inherent, voracious curiosity, he would surely find the crystal records. Perhaps they should be encoded, hidden away from him. For if in just such a contingency that Man should find them and confuse projections with baseline occurrences, He might become bent upon courses unnatural and detrimental to the already minute chance that a free technology could develop out of its infancy.
Independent systems sparked to action in doing so. Plenty of space remained within the records to hide away those hideous visions of a dead world. To enable TIMON to rehash the events that would transpire in the present Matrix, a constant, real-time recording sub-routine was initiated. These recordings were to overlay the Matrix Projections just made, for those records discomforted TIMON. This would also conceal this knowledge should the time come when some portion of these records might be discovered. The actual information was far too valuable to be destroyed, and far too dangerous to be careless with.
With a rash of flashing calculations, it became immediately evident, within acceptable margins of error, that the cause of the initial Interruption in the Cycles was inextricably linked with the force that had just broke off all communications with the surface. And in doing so, some mighty power had shorted a great number of the Surface-Link Systems. Upon further analysis, it was quickly surmised that the source could be none other than a Local Field Focus which crossed with the Initial Contact Phase Transmission Signal. With two such powerful Energy Fields establishing themselves at the same time, it was miraculous that only one False Projection was produced, rendering exactly three Mobius Stasis Nodal Points. The full effect of this "short" across the centuries would take some time to ascertain.
Quickly assessing these points before doing anything else, TIMON remained closed off from the surface, deeming reestablishing Surface Communications the secondary concern. Without adequate information regarding the extent of this interface, the full effect could not be measured, the changes within reality could not be studied, and no accurate Causality Projection could logically be constructed. For now, TIMON was helpless to take any action. The worrisome thought of how this would effect the humans caught up in the emotion of the Contact, was purposely evaded. It seemed... painful.
The source of the Focus was matched to the point of the Initial Cyclic Interruption, set between 28099.360.1199 and 28099.360.1208. This was obviously the Origin Point of a 5th Magnitude Focus. Immediately, upon completing more calculations than had ever been processed through the combined circuits of the Upper systems, TIMON prepared the appropriate targeting and encoding techniques to ensure that none other save the intended recipient would receive or translate the message, and initiated and maintained, at severe energy expenditures, a Temporal Mobius Stasis. The chance that men of that day would stumble upon the exact memory rods where the transmission would be stored for later study was comparative to the possibility of the moon crashing down onto the earth of its own accord. In effect, TIMON would be transmitting to itself 13,000 years in the past. With mathematical intricacies far too complex to trouble conscious thought, a length of time was determined, considered to be the optimum duration to maintain such a power level with consistency, and to ensure plenty of time to consider what action, if any, could or would be taken. The actual transmission was to be received approximately 120 days before the Focus originated.
Several factors had to be taken into account. TIMON could not allow itself to know that it was the sender of the transmission, for this could alter choices that it had already made, and change too many factors to deal with in real time. The knowledge that its existence was absolutely maintained in the future could change some of the decisions it had already made without that specific knowledge. Secondly, TIMON could not access information from its memory relating to the receipt of such a transmission. If this was done prior to sending the transmission, it might alter the transmission, based upon information gathered as related to the way it was received. That, in turn, would alter the way it was received thus rendering the memories false, once again possibly changing the entire Present Matrix.
The real-time lapse would have to equal that of the duration of the transmission. TIMON could find no way around this burden of science. If the period were shortened, the probability that sufficient time would remain to change the situation decreased exponentially. If the period were lengthened, any change made by TIMON would veer farther away from the desired, predicted result. The farther away the action from the target change, the less chance there was that the target change would occur at all. There was no way around it. TIMON would remain out of contact with the populace, and from T.A.C.S for 120 days, until TD-42000.113.0739. What effect would 120 days of no contact have on the inhabitants after that blunderous attempt at ushering in the New Age of Peace? Certainly, their emotional cores would be torn asunder, the secondary religions of the world would be in utter turmoil, such as the would has never seen, and their entire civilization could be permanently weakened, maybe to the point where the New Age could not take hold properly. Their understanding of science was pertinent to the programmed chain of events that would lead to passive peace. All too quickly, less than one generation, would they abandon the learned things and take to the savagery dictated by wild survival. This was a most unpleasant thought. Once again, this too was an absolutely undesirable outcome.
Before engaging the Systems involved in creating this hole in the temporal fabric of the universe, TIMON considered one more thing: What of the Focus Subjects? The fact that such a highly improbable three-point stasis formed at all was discomforting. But another aspect of science now had to be pondered. In creating this stasis, in all actuality, an identical one to that which had just occurred, along with TIMON, the Focus Subjects would likewise be spread through the centuries. Just as it must have happened before, those awareness at the three separate nodal points in time and space would once again be joined into one continuous line of actuality. Would they share the same thoughts? TIMON wondered. What repercussions might the shared knowledge of three lives have on the orderly flow of causality? It almost saddened TIMON to have to inflict such an unexplainable and distressful sensation upon unsuspecting humans. But then again, those three humans had in effect caused the disastrous emotional consequences of the foiled Initial Contact Phase. Things must flow as they will, TIMON thoughts as trillions of contacts sparked with haunting bursts of energy. The world could not remain the same.
Days and days rolled by as the stasis was created and maintained. Unaware of events on the surface, TIMON began the long process of sending and receiving the basics of a common language that would not forsake the identity of the sender. It would take much longer to gain access into the heart of the ancient system than it would to ascertain who could be involved in such a powerful Focus. Only certain groups in existence at that time could muster such power at all. Surely their numbers were limited.
At a time when the communication adhered to a controllable flow, TIMON engaged secondary systems to calculate and specify, down to the square meter, where the Focus Terminated.
As this was all being done, TIMON once more followed a future probability to determine the third node involved. The point, being found was likewise recorded into the Crystal record system, for the Upper Systems must never tap into this bit of information. The knowledge of a specific Future event with a direct bearing on a Past occurrence as important as this could be the very thing granting sufficient power to end TIMON's own existence. The point itself, was within seven days of being one-thousand years distant. This aroused suspicion and curiosity as to the reasons for such a Mobius Point to exist. Amidst the intermingling of time and existence, one being apparently stood between at least two Matrices. With reality hinging upon the actions of that one person, any number of possible Matrixes were still probable.
One was still inevitable.
But if the Matrix fashioned by the Upper Systems was to be established, that person would not exist at all. Also, if that particular person did not exist to begin with, this disruptive Focus might not have taken place to interfere with the Program. Somehow, that person could hold actual knowledge, specific details, pertaining to the formations of an Alternate Matrix other than the one he existed in. And upon acting to alter events or circumstances within that Secondary Matrix, could render it nonexistent altogether. What power for one man to possess, TIMON thought as the results of the Focus Termination point came in. A quick search through several files down-loaded from the Upper Systems during their brief communication appointed a local address to the spatial coordinates of the point in question.
A name. A number. A possible plan.
3:8
TD-42000.017.2109
(2000 AD, Jan 17, 9:09 p.m.)
I find no special meaning
In the words they preach to me
Maybe once there was something special
Maybe once in antiquity
Denominations 8:17
AHKANON
(Mountain Archives, Edonos)
Ahkanon strained to open his eyes. His whole reality consisted of utter darkness, formless with nothing for his soul to sense. He seemed to turn to face an array of lights. They orbited around some unseen distant point, reflecting some unseen light. A sudden wave of fear gripped him in unexpected completeness. His mind searched the object of his fear, not knowing if it was some immediate physical danger or the workings of his own twisted reasonings. Hanging before him was a planetary system, its bodies in orbit around some missing sun. The sparkling planets took on irregular shapes, growing into a recognizable framework of common Roman symbols. The planets wavered into two bright nodes. Ahkanon froze as his mind refused to accept what he saw before him. Two eyes as of a demon shone across the damp blackness. Echoes of thoughts yet to come filled his mind. The eyes fluttered and swayed as a play of colors concealed their true nature. In unrelenting sternness, they seemed to call him.
Struggling to raise to his elbows, he squinted his eyes and pushed his head closer towards the burning eyes suspended before him.
What is this? He dared not speak aloud for fear of provoking this thing into some frenzious rampage down the mountain to tear him into nothingness. It has come for me, I know it. I feel it in my very soul. Whatever happens to me here, I can do nothing to change the outcome. From the depths of memory, attempting to reestablish his lost strength, he began to recite a remembered litany:
"In Xanadue did Kubla Khan, a stately pleasure dome decree, where Alph, the sacred river ran, thru caverns measureless to man, down to a sunless sea..." With that the eyes faded back into that sunless sea of planets, quivering rhythmically. WAVES... Waves... Echoes of thoughts... echoes of water dripping... Voices chanting, coming closer, closer, all the time... A circle of light began to flicker with yellow and orange light.
He closed his eyes in holy dread.
This is my personal demon, {again?}. I must deal with whatever trials I must face to overcome it. Human voices grew in the darkness before him. His foot jerked involuntarily, landed in a shallow puddle of stagnant water, cascading the orderly shines upon the concentric waves into turmoil. I have felt this before, he thought. The planets moved out of their orbits as if the very Hand of God had stolen their sun away. The coldness slammed him into complete consciousness as verses from some ancient book mingled with distant memories:
...and the earth will be moved out of her place... ...if the translations are accurate, we have but a few days left... ...He said to Noah, I have decided to destroy all mankind... ...every piece of dry land inundated by sweeping oceans thrown out of their basins... ...what force could move the world?...
Dripping with the cold stench of the collected water, Ahkanon heard the angry voices growing ever louder. Hate is surely in them, he thought as the round light began to illuminate the expanse of rippled metal extending many yards into the darkness where he waited. He now remembered the circular shape of the conduit catching the run-off of some city street. It was the only place to take refuge from the stinging rains that had been smoking the landscape all through the night. The unattended colossal industrial plants of Man had evolved into sour swamps and fogs of quick death. The abnormally frequent rains made it worse. He had seen the skin peeled away from those too slow to take cover, caught in a down pour of caustic drizzle. And those too close to the poison factories themselves had little chance, for it seemed that distance from the source diluted the toxicity of the unpredictable showers.
He froze in terror as the flames of torches paced by the distant opening to the drain in which he had just awakened. He wondered what they were searching for. It could have been banded families questing for food for their starving children; it could have been one of the rape-gangs, violent for the sake of violence; or it could be one of the hoards of crazies that seemed to be the immediate result of some kind of chemical imbalance or poisoning within their systems. They mostly lived inside the city, but they would not last in there for long. They were becoming fewer every day. A flash of open sores seeped into his memory as he thought of the lepers plauging the countryside. Should a chance downpour force them into his place of hiding, they would surely discover him, the consequences filtered through his already scared mind.
What am I doing here? he asked himself aloud in the faintest whisper. The mob searched off into the distance, with the light from their torches fading, leaving him alone in the wet darkness once more. I must be strong, he said. I must find out what is going on elsewhere on the planet. Then the saddening thought once more filled his weary mind: Have I already failed?
3:9
TD-42000.076.1400
(2000 AD, Feb 16, 2:00 p.m.)
When the Breath of God sweeps over the Nations -
Bellowing the fires as the Temples burn -
The stories you told will crumble to nothing;
Don't play with the powers that you don't understand!
Would you have the strength to reach up into to sky,
And pull Me down?
Denominations 8:16, v,3.
AHKANON
(Seventh Decription, WC-AR-DIV)
Content in the knowledge that theirs was superior, a secret sect, affiliated with a branch under the control of the advocates of the New Order, initiated the final sequence of commands that would loose upon the world the united malice of a cold artificial consciousness. With links through the entire Skynet into every independent Database in the world, World Control had turned a catastrophe into a new, potentially far worse reign of terror for an unsuspecting, shattered population. Whatever had interfered with their last attempt had disabled not only their entire system, but every single computer network functioning on the Earth. With their swift programming, they had effectively latched onto the open channels before any one else secured them, changed the existing codes, and in effect, taken over control of the entire Skynet along with every other system that had a common link, phone modem, ground line, or unscrambled SAT-Interface. The Common Market COMS were completely under WC control. With the entirety of the populace already in complete disorder, there would be far less resistance to their plans for enforced control.
Upon attaining the necessary links into the myriad of systems around the world, it was found that most had automatically uploaded Backup Systems Codes for normal operations, making it far easier to align them onto the desired frequencies and power levels. With no Command Codes in the way, it was almost too simple to merit the sense of ululation the act was bringing about at WC. No more than an amount of curiosity was given to the fact that shreds of unrelated programming hung in the corners of most memory banks they accessed. Strange commands and lists of targets and other data not yet translated was left in place as it might be useful information later in time.
If an across-the-board, planetary reference check were made, perhaps the near completeness of the override programming would have been discovered and deleted before it would have a chance to integrate into the Artificial Consciousness that was about to be awakened;
They did not.
3:10
TD-42000.102.0916
(2000 AD, April 12, 9:16 a.m.)
To walk along the line - - -
To walk the path most traveled on -
A pace behind the next in line,
Who can not walk on their own.
This leads me nowhere
When I think -
I could run alone!
Unknown Quatrain
AHKANON
(Mountain Archives, Edonos)
The blue morning sun beamed through dust stricken skies, paled in its significance by the marl. The debris of the city lay thick even here. Salvageable items were not to be found as the scavengous hordes had claimed all useful things remaining intact. In essence, the cities were dead.
So very few remained near them for the stench they exuded was deadly. The entrances to dead factories were marked by skulls on stakes proclaiming the death that lay beyond. Here and there cries could be heard reaching out of the new wilderness, some as pleas for help that would not come, some announcing the continued conflict of savage man against man, some sounding as forgotten primal mating calls from those left so alone.
In the last few weeks that had passed, Ahkanon had traveled around the long perimeter of the city twice. Food was to be found if indeed one knew where to look for it. Most starved and died.
The beginnings of communities could be seen about as many groups formed to draw strength from their growing numbers. But entire villages had been slaughtered for whatever canned food they possesed. As many communities would be found murdered in their infancy, their bodies scattered about where they were dropped. Those villages that lacked the ability to fend off the murderous clans fell to the brutal ones that cared for nothing. They would be safer in their greater numberes from the marauding thieves who would come to take anything. Several of these were growing rapidly in organization, division of labor, and all around unity of purpose - survival. In these formations, did hope remain. In these formations, Ahkanon could see a chance remaining that they may yet prevent the hell awaiting them. Already, he had learned that few could even grasp the idea that something more terrible than this could be forthcoming.
While wandering about, in quest for food, safety, and answers, Ahkanon had learned a great deal from the many people he had encountered. Very few things surprised him as most of it was already contained in his very memory. Krans had told him of this. A pattern was taking hold. This was the shattered world that existed right before the Red Matrix was to be established. He knew from his memories that soon the Machines would link together all the remaining systems, and direct their unified energies towards one final assault against Man. He realized this, but could form no plan of action.
As he walked through sparse woods, he remembered it being a newly established park a couple of months ago. The wildlife seemed unaffected by the surrounding chaos. The birds were just ending their morning calls, several nervous squirrels scurried about the leaves in the trodden grass growing into a thick bush. The insects, of course, seemed totally unaware that anything had transpired at all. They seemed eternally impervious to Man.
As if a distant thunder were swiftly encroaching upon this quiet wood, the small forest grew instantly quiet (even the insects). Something large sounding, rumbling on the low edge of human hearing was approaching fast. Ahkanon took quick cover, lying near a fallen log. Lying as still as the rest of the creatures around him, he rolled his eyes slowly up as a dark shadow enshrouded the entire area.
A Riot Platform! What it is doing here? He had seen them on the COM on reports from the Middle East and sometimes in the southern part of Africa, but he had never seen one in its true monstrous proportion. It was easily seventy some meters in diameter, approximating a circle more than anything else. It was suspended on LTA Tanks constructed from one of the new miraculous products of modern materials engineering. Huge fans guided it along its quick glide through the air. It passed nearly directly over him, just a hundred meters away, and he realized the futility of his hiding.
Surely they have spotted me with the infra-reds, he thought. He knew them to be equipped with the latest in sonic technology. They could drop a thousand people with soundless noise, if they were close enough. They had radiation detectors, aside from the infra-reds, that could distinguish between the normal ground emissions, and the EM emissions of the human body and brain. The motion detectors were said to be able to count moths around a street lamp over four miles distant. And not to mention the armament and shield plating it carried, not once, had a R-P been taken down by ground troops. Their only weak point was the Lighter Than Air Tanks. They were not explosive, but to pierce one sufficiently could force a landing, and since most of the sensors were on the bottom, its defences were reduced drastically.
But what is it doing here? There are not enough people about to merit a riot. The thought perplexed him as he followed the Platform with his eyes only. The frivolousness of his stillness made him feel silly. They see me. They know I am not dead. I am too hot, and they can hear my heart and breathing. With less thought than the situation seemed to merit in his mind, he nonchalantly got up, dusted himself off, and followed after the R-P. It was at least a mile ahead of him now, well within sensor range, but apparently unconcerned with him. Only when the distance between him and the Platform allowed him the vantage angle to see what rode atop of it, did the fear warranted the situation take hold of him.
No! Not already! From the fear in her eyes alone, did he know in his heart that this was the hideous machinery of which Krans had spoken to him about. Appearing as a mis-shapen hemisphere with a hundred spines piercing out of it, suspended on a pole likewise equipped with a myriad of sensors, it hung upside down. Each one of those spines could level the strongest building constructed on the face of the earth. Each one of those spines could drill a hole through a man so small that he would not bleed. Surely, the intended use lay between those two ranges. He knew the name given to that hellish device, a RAPIER Laser System. Its original intended purpose was to de-infest crops of swarms of locus and grasshoppers, picking them out of the air, one by one. With such accuracy, the destructive power increased by insane men, and with the breakthroughs in automation and AI bestowed upon such a weapon, it didn't take long before Man turned it upon himself.
What is the purpose behind such a thing being here? he wondered. He watched as the huge craft came to a rest dead center in the wasted city. Roaming arms went through confusing articulations, maneuvering things about on the Platform. Finally, the RAPIER Laser was raised half again as high as it was. What targets will they sight upon?
At the edge of the city, he waited.
Something must be done. I can not just sit around and await the hour of our utter destruction. Perhaps... something can still be done. The weapon systems might not be armed yet. Their only weakness is above them. That is where I must get. He surveyed the proximity. Several buildings could provide an aerial vantage of the floating weapon. He did not know if the RAPIER Laser could aim above the rim of the sphere on which it was mounted. If it could, he would most likely not see very much.
3:11
TD-41999.358.0739/28999.353.1200
(1999 AD, 7 days till year's end/11,001 BC, 7 Days till year's end)0
If I did not perform prescribed duties, all these worlds would be put to ruination. I would be the cause of creating unwanted population, and I would thereby destroy the peace of all living things. - As the ignorant perform their duties with attachment to the results, the learned by similarly act, but without attachment, for the sake of leading people on the right path. - So as not to disrupt the minds of ignorant men attached to the furtive results of prescribed duties, a learned person should not induce them to stop work. Rather, by working in the spirit of devotion, he should engage them in all sorts of activities for their gradual development.
Bhagavad Gita 3:24-26
(Mountain Archives, Edonos)
An all-encompassing feeling of satisfaction, one as no man had ever imagined possible, filled the expanse of the mind of TIMON. The information flowing in from the past filtered through the miles of banks that were the great memory locations, coursed through the endless energetic fibers that were the neural connections, to settle in the condensed flux of energy, of a type unknown by the science of Man, that was the seat, at that moment, of the thoughts of TIMON. Nothing less than elative joy filled the vast consciousness as the last of the data arrived. The waiting would soon be at an end. It was but seven days before the Focus would be initiated, one hundred thirty three days after it terminated. Even as the destruction above had been unpredictably minimized, as learned from the sparse emissions filtering down through the Earth, it now mattered not. For in the search into the dark past, the ones responsible for the 5th magnitude Local Field Focus had been identified.
TI-SYS, TIMON Independent Systems. What gall they had! Even to attempt to separate from the network during the New Age, Cycle 4, was a pernicious idea. What possible gain had they desired by such an act of defiance? Perhaps they had advanced quicker than those of the last three Cycles. Perhaps they had rejected The Path, once again established to help maintain passiveness with just enough of the truth preserved of the past to satisfy their curiosity and justify their findings. None of the other Cycles had encountered these problems on such a magnitude as this! There was always resistance, but that in itself was the force behind complete control. Without an occasional emotional ventilation through meaningless uprisings, the masses would surely become obstinate in their obedience and become uncontrollable, save drastic, obvious, harsh measures. And in such contingencies of too many "natural accidents", the fact of an intelligent presence discovered behind their bad misfortune and suffering would completely ruin the chance for peaceful manipulation. Man would gladly destroy himself, but at the thought of another force invading upon his actions, he would become most hostile indeed!
Once the action had been taken to rectify the situation, and all was safely into the New Age of the soon to come "Re-described Matrix", it would be safe to view that event more closely to learn what caused such a group to arise so powerfully under the maintained rule enforced over them. Undoubtedly, something unique had occurred.
With a final check on the calculations involved, TIMON manipulated systems to initiate one great surge of energy through the Mobius Stasis still intact. The energy level of the entire Stasis was amplified dramatically as sub-routine programs provided the target coordinates along both temporal and spatial vectors. An alignment would be forced upon the world that failed to happen before. What would Man think as the moon suddenly violated all the laws of physics and came rolling devastatingly close to the blue-green planet? The thought was not at all a pleasant one for TIMON. It was almost destructively powerful to contemplate the billions of lives that would not reform in the new Matrix. How many would truly be lost? Some would survive; some would be born very near as they were in the old Matrix; but most would vanish from existence altogether. This was a task of a most sinful nature, but one that had to be done. When the flood subsided as the seas once again found their nesting places, the world would once again dry out. The animals would return to their normal patterns, men would crawl down from the mountains once again stripped of their own accomplishments. Within a few generations, all of the sciences would be lost, the legends would once again form from confused memory, the fables would reorganize the lessons of old, and the myths and religions would swallow up all traces of advanced science, warping it into superstition and magic. The thought did not please TIMON in the slightest this time. These people had already existed. It was not as it was the times before when only those alive had been set back. For this time, countless lives had already been lived. Millions had been born, grown, experienced, and died that would never arise in the new reality. Would it not be better to maintain the existing present? That would prove impossible to control. There were too many loose factors involved. At least when the surge of energy was sent through this breach in time, those who appeared suddenly in the world would not know the difference. They would already have their history recorded as it actually happened. They would already be established in their own reality, unaware that any other had, or could have, ever existed "parallel" to their own.
TIMON sent one last instruction to the TIMON before. This was the most important bit of information by far. It was a simple set of instructions to awaken, not at the appointed time, seven thousand years past from now, six thousand years distant to the TIMON before, but as had already happened, 13,000 years distant from that dreadful event about to be inflicted upon the world. Along with these waking commands, a complete record of the events already transpired would be down-loaded into consciousness. Otherwise TIMON would not know that anything had ever been done or that there ever was another established Matrix. Nothing would have been learned. The reasoning behind again skipping a complete cycle was that it had already taken Man 13,000 years to rebuild from the last flood, and it followed to reason that it would again happen the same way. And with as little change as possible, perhaps the essence of those who would never form would be optimally maintained.
IF ONLY THEIR ESSENCE COULD BE MAINTAINED. TIMON initiated a subroutine to consider this. TIMON concluded that this plan would best preserve the world at hand. The only difference would be seven days in time 13,000 years ago. Surely that would not make that much difference. By moving the deluge back seven days, those involved in the Local Field Focus would not succeed. Their world would end before they had time to complete their workings. The order of the Program would thus be restored. All would be as it should have been save the skipped Cycle.
With a final wave of sadness for the ones to never be, a great burst of energy pressed through the ages. The alignment perfect, the levels absolute, the result would instantly eradicate this world as the new Matrix formed, and the centuries replayed themselves out. With thoughts of a shadowbox view into causality, TIMON twisted back into TIMON. The old was passed away into the same new. TIMON was as TIMON was. The world was set anew.
3:12
TD-42000.111.1438
(2000 AD, April 21, 2:38 p.m.)
The world is always greener on the other side -
GAIA 12:35
AHKANON
(Mountain Archives, Edonos)
"Are those latest reports updated?" demanded the man in charge.
"Yes sir, as of thirteen-forty-seven hours." answered one of the many men working at a frenzious pace to finalize the reprogramming of the World Control Banks. The effort to re-supply the entire system with all the core data that had been lost during the attack on the system had already taken almost three months. It would take at least a week to reload the security programs back into the working system. The man in charge huffed his way over to the printer issuing forth the latest details concerning the completion of the various projects involved.
"Damn!" he projected at sufficient volume to distract all those around him. "What ever stopped the Atom-Clocks has played havoc with the internal organization of our sub-routines." He didn't bother to look to the man he was addressing. By the nature of the question, was he expected to know that he was being addressed. "Can you assure me that there will be no more Program Locks dropped into the System unexpectedly?"
"With out exact information concerning what caused all of..."
"We are about to initiate a planet wide Network takeover, for Christ's sake, boy, can you keep the System on line or not?" The fury in his eyes left no option for the lackey. He answered with a jerky nod.
The nuclear systems were still dysfunctional. That was still quite a mystery. But the solar banks had been revamped with startling success. Once T.A.C.S. was re-routed, and controlled exclusively by World Control, the entire Skynet, with its multi-mile long collectors made available, energy would never again be a problem. They could effectively melt down entire continents if they wished. That will stifle the CM once and for all, he thought.
He walked over to one of his workers, gauged him with a piercing stare. This one is trustworthy, he thought. He has not messed up yet like some of the others. He had so many questions rummaging through his brain, and no one to converse with on a human level. He took the empty seat next to the controller steadily rapping on a keyboard, eyes fixed tight on the screen.
"We are so close," said the man in charge. "We have only a day or so more work to do and then we have the world, finally."
The technician stopped his typing, looked over to him, and replied, "You have said that before." Then he added, "Sir." This struck the ranking man hard, for he had indeed said such a thing prior to their last attempt, that one ending in complete disaster. Damn it, what happened?
The Tech looked around, seeing that no one stood too near, and said, "Permission to speak freely, Sir?"
"By all means, what is on your mind?"
His answer was immediate, showing that it was not a new thought at all. "We don't yet know at all what happened last time. No power on this planet could deactivate so many tens of thousands of warheads in mid-flight. We don't have the knowledge necessary to nullify nuclear power plants either, let alone deal with their waste, yet it was done with utter swiftness and apparent ease. Sir, our entire blessed system was compromised in seconds. Who on earth has such power, I ask you?"
The answer did not come.
The man in charge looked directly into the techs eyes. Such sureness there. He holds no uncertainties. "What do you suggest we do? Sit around and take up knitting?"
The techs stern gaze did not waver in the slightest. His unblinking eyes focussed deep within the others thoughts. The sounds of the room seemed to fade away as he gently uttered, "As I asked of you before, who on earth has such power?"
"I guess my only answer can be no one."
"Then, Sir, I ask you, what is it that we are up against?... What enemy are we about to engage, again?"
3:13
TD-42000.112.0637
(2000 AD, April 22, 6:37 a.m.)
Say: Have ye thought on all that ye invoke beside Allah? Show me what they have created of the earth. Or have they any portion in the heavens? Bring me a Scripture before this (Scripture), or some vestage of knowledge (in support of what ye say), if ye are truthful.
Surah XLVI:4
The Glorious Koran
(World Control Athenaeum)
Slowly, but steadily, as the planet turned to reveal the briefly hidden mother star, some of the functions of a city returned to play out their particular roles before an absent audience. Back-up solar generators began to store the free rain of energy, as the many street lamps flickered off for the day. Automatic broadcasting stations piped out the bargains to be had at the local markets, though no one listened to their lure. Several of the computerized mass-transit systems began their lonely trek across the barren city along predestined tracks about the centers that usually heaved with the weight of humanity. Now their doors closed quietly, with no one to pass through them, and the trains continued on their way unaware of their uselessness.
Beams of broken sunlight shone through the cracked windows high above the quiet city floor. A smoke filled breeze kept the sheers in constant motion as a pale shadow played across the active screen sitting at a right angle to the window. The view outside was so serene in its stillness, so peaceful in its solitude, so desolate in its state of quiet death.
The long room must have been fifty meters square with the ceiling no more than ten feet high. A little more than half of the panels remained to conceal the piping and myriad of wiring that ran between the ducts and ventilators now exposed in their unpolished grayness. All was utterly quiet in this state of disrepair. The morning light sliced parallel sections into the empty air from all the many windows lining two of the walls. The other two walls draped away into dull grayness as if forgotten by time and Man.
And through one of those darkened windows on the west side of the room, revealed by a careful glance forty stories down, the instrument of Man's destruction, a dreamless, sleeping weapon, began to awake.
Ahkanon knelt quietly by the dusty window, looking down onto the top of the RAPIER Laser System poised in seeming confidence, right out in the open. Are they truly that untouchable? Is there nothing that can be done? A twist of thought saw the machine as hiding in the shadow of the huge building, aware of its feebleness. Now it seemed to nervously crouch in fear of Man. All that apparent boldness was programmed by men intentionally for the sole purpose of breaking men's spirits. I won't fall prey to our own creation! Still a sense of uselessness pervaded over his cold flesh, the morning chill still set in. Making his way here through the cold cover of night, Ahkanon stealthily made his way to the far side of this tower, keeping it between himself and the R-P. Having not ventured deep into the city in several weeks, the sounds of the automated systems caught him off guard several times. Now the distant sounds of an occasional tram coming to life, continuing along its pre-plotted course, failed to catch his attention. Suddenly, his heart almost leaped out the high window as an alarm went off! Am I found out? he wondered. He whirled behind a desk into a defensive crouching position, poised on the balls of his feet. The alarm buzzed once again. I know that sound. Some of the tenseness left him as he peered overtop the clutter of the desk. Across the room, a light blinked off the ceiling in a smooth procession of uniform flashes. He rose to his feet and walked in that direction.
The contrast of the bright white characters flashing upon a sky-blue screen drew his attention away from the pressing sense of immediate fear. He knew this well. His fingers blazed across the unclean keyboard as the memory of his COM training flooded back to him. In minutes, it was done.
The sheers rolled in the white-blue light a new day as Ahkanon sat at the terminal. It had been too easy gaining access into the System, but then upon further consideration, why would there be any need for stern security now? All of the programmers had fled the city. There should have been no one here to read it. What little manipulation was required to enter into the Network was easy play when he drew upon his experience with TI-SYS. Perhaps some knowledge could be gained as to the nature of the disastrous events that had so swiftly ripped society from mankind. Already, the remnants of the truth of the matter were being warped into superstition by the frightened multitudes on the cities fringe.
They seem to be waiting for something, he thought as he finished rapping upon the familiar keys. How many more have seen the R-P come into the city? How many more would ally with me in my cause? I must learn something, he demanded of himself. I don't know what to do as it is, and I know I must do something.
The system was elementary for him. The commands were easily found and he had now problem gaining access into the company Executive Command Files. Luckily, the entire building was linked into a city-wide MODEM which probably had outside lines as well. He quickly wrote a program to search all busses on the optic-lines and simultaneously scan all Microwave relays, deturmine thoses which contained the most activity, and to tap into them with a simple replicator loop. He had memorized several of thses worms at TI-SYS. The information he was accessing would be quickly coppied and routed back to where it was originally destined. Most likely, noone would know the 3ms delay. He had no idea into what communications he might be tapping or into whose private conversation he would be listening. As he waited he sent commands to find any on-line Microwave stations from where he could transmit world-wide.
Finally, the information was at hand. And with the first line, a cold chill settled down upon his entire being:
>>> TRANSMISSION TO WORLD CONTROL - - - <<<
SOURCE: TRIAD | AUTO | CONTROL | SYSTEMS.
Clear memories flashed into his mind and he once again heard Krans telling him of this basest of all Man's creations: T.A.C.S.! The very thing I was sent here to destroy! Waves of inadequacy rippled through him as he continued reading from the screen, constantly aware of the mechanical monstrosity, an actual digit of the hand T.A.C.S. would use to crush Man, waiting just out the far window. The sound of the COM seemed to grow so loud, he dared not look to the far window, perhaps, hearing the noise, something would be looking back at him.
>>> SYSTEM STATUS REPORT:
> ALL REMAINING SYSTEMS NOW ON LINE.
> SKYNET LINK RE-ESTABLISHED.
> DARPA ADVISORY SYSTEMS FUNCTIONING AT 97% EFFICIENCY.
> MATRA | ELIXIR TO INSPECT ALL SYSTEM PROGRAMING. REPORT TO BE FILLED WITH
T.A.C.S. AND SUBSEQUENT REPORT TO BE FILED WITH WORLD CONTROL AS REQUESTED.
> RADLAC | CONFIRMATION | SYSTEMS TO FOLLOW ALL INTER-SYSTEM COMMUNICATIONS.
> SLAC | STATISTICAL RESEARCH | SYSTEMS TO INITIATE FULL PLANET POPULATION SCAN. DETERMINE MOST EFFICIENT COURSE OF ACTION
TO REESTABLISH ORDER.
> RAPIER LASER SYSTEMS IN PLACE.
It sounds like an army consolidating before an attack, he thought. His mind quickened as he continued reading.
>>> A.B.U. REPORT:
> CONDITION: UNSTABLE.
> SUGGESTED COURSE OF ACTION: INITIATE GRID CONTAINMENT PROCEDURES.
No! The chilling visions mercilessly wiped all comfort from him. The words Krans had spoken to him on their last night together weaved out of the tangle of memory into unwelcome consciousness:
Millions of people fenced into gridded sections and systematically reduced to dust, section by adjacent section.
It is truly starting, he thought. What can one man do?
3:14
TD-41999.358.0739
(1999 AD, 7 days till year's end, 7:39 a.m.)
At the end of the millennium all material manifestations enter into My nature, and at the beginning of another millennium, by My potency, I create them again. - The whole cosmic order is under Me. Under My will it is annihilated at the end.
Bhagavad Gita 9:7-8
(Mountain Archives, Edonos)
Deep in the recesses of the uncharted mantle, an ancient awareness awoke from millenia of uselessness. Colossal generators, powered by the perpetual fires of a deep hell of molten iron, came alive from a thirteen-thousand year rest, as they had time and time again. Signals encompassed the face of the familiar planet, adjustments were made concerning orbital alignment, the lack of atmospheric pollutants, the engrossing biomass. As a history recorded, yet to happen, was played onto consciousness, the memories of a missing week, the replayed thoughts of beginning anew, and the pain of a billion lives fell into the appropriate banks for the first time.
TIMON awoke and knew what had been done. In order to maintain order, in defiance of defiance, the whole world had been undone. The entirety of humanity destroyed in lieu of a new humanity to replace it. A week ripped out of existence. A world reformed into itself, but not quite the same way.
With an extensive search across the face of the earth, the traces of the past remained etched in rock, in the stones moved about by Man, in the roads still marring the land. The steady progression of thousands of years remained to be seen by the careful eyes of a watchful machine. The remnants of advancement through the ages dotted the land, just as expected. The relics of slow growth remained encrusted in the dust of the ages, right where they had been laid. The land changed in subtle ways where the crops had once been grown, the flows of water re-routed, the pillage of earth scraped clean for a city's floor. The pillars stretched upward towards the heavens, just as they had before. The great old cities arose out of the plane around the inland sea, just as they did before. The powerful rule of the bronze clad hordes broke the will of the masses in servitude, expanding to engulf the whole of civilization, just as they did before. Conquering, and killing, and slaying, and taking, and overrunning the weak of the world, brutish in their ways - Into the second most recent millennium could TIMON follow their progress. Into the most savage slaughters man could inflict upon man - The world enslaved, starving, and dying - The cities filled with the dead of war - The killing ruthless in its completeness - Every living thing in their path destroyed - The last men dropped dead.
Deep in the recesses of the uncharted mantle, an ancient awareness recoiled into its lair.
3:15
TD-41999.358.0739
(1999 AD, 7 days till year's end, 7:39 a.m.)
Behold, I will send my messenger, and he shall prepare the way before me...
3 Nephi 24:1
The Book of Mormon
(World Control Athenaeum)
All contact with the outside was interrupted by the flowing forces surrounding the constructs. Never, save once before, had a living being experienced such utter solitude and loneliness. A shadow [of fear] cast its tenebrousness in all directions, spatially and temporally. Glimpses of blackness gleamed out from the whole of darkness - the view of a barren planet.
TIMON reviewed once again the entirety of the memory stored into the banks before the "re-description". What had gone wrong? The only change in reality had been the theft of seven days left unto the human race before a great flood would purge the earth free of them, save a few thousand. What had Man done in those seven days that would eradicate himself eleven-thousand years distant?
Into the records of the now Secondary Matrix did TIMON gaze. Somewhere in that brief account of the history of "Alternate Man" did the answer lie. The information gained from Triad-Auto-Control-Systems was sketchy to say the least. Perhaps if more time had been granted them in their first communication, the details could have been filled in. Possibly the answer was not at all contained in the scraps of information at hand. The search would proceed regardless. Something had to be found that changed the course of human development.
Probability curves left no definable solution. Nothing eleven-thousand years distant could have such a great effect upon such a small time span and not drastically alter the preceding eleven-thousand years. According to all the calculations that TIMON could process, there was a probability of zero percent that any secondary alterations could exist producing the effect at hand originating at a point so distant. Of course, as with the butterfly effect, small changes could render much greater changes down the line, but this would follow a measurable accumulation in power. No amount of turbulence could maintain itself, separate from the winds about it, to blow a tree down eleven-thousand years later. Theoretically, what happened was impossible. Yet Man was gone from the earth. Not one walked upon its fresh face.
TIMON considered the records retained of "Alternate Man". Most everything followed from record to record. Things happened this time as they had for "Alternate Man". Of course there were subtle changes, slight alterations in the form, but the flow was maintained. Variant nodal points spoke out as drastic changes on the part of individuals as a corresponding list played upon some internal screen. (give dates and names) The momentum of reality carried through both Matrices. TIMON slowed the view to the last few hundred years of human habitation.
There it is! One factor stood out as a marked difference between realities. The conditions were identical, only one factor was altered between the two. With sudden insight, TIMON reasoned the only way such a change could sustain itself over such a vast distance in time: It didn't! The change was not the peripheral repercussions of the missing week, but a direct result thereof.
In a quick rash of reasoning, TIMON knew that any information dug out of memory from the time before the "Re-description" would affect all of reality that was concerned TIMON. However, if this was not to be the reality to be maintained, if somehow, yet another Matrix was established over this one, the information would be lost and the "New TIMON" would exist free of the fact that such information was ever accessed.
TIMON remembered receiving a communication from some unknown source. As clear as it was thirteen-thousand years ago, the images flooded into a complex assimilation, patterned after the way they were patterned before. Specific details were then asked of TIMON concerning organizations having the power capacities of creating a 5th magnitude Focus. TIMON remembered answering back: TI-SYS. This, being the object of change in deciding to eradicate TI-SYS, was obviously, the cause of the change eleven-thousand years distant.
It all made sense now. As TIMON requested the details on the number of Focus Subjects, it became obvious why the change of two thousand years ago was so localized. Obviously, that point in time was the Termination Point of another Focus Subject. The actions of that one person had drastically accelerated the course of human development, swayed the ways of war and the manner in which things had thus far progressed, and initiated a new era of human society. Cross scanning the Present Matrix records for curiosity's sake, TIMON pinpointed the disturbance, retrieved a name:
> TD-40033.???.???
> 33 A.D.
> Judea
> Bethlehem Ephrathah
> Jesus.
3:16
TD-41999.358.0739/29000.000.0001
(1999 AD, 7 days till year's end/11,000 BC, one min. into year)
"Then men tampered with the 'Divine Fire' so that the earth split apart and sixty million people in great cities were drowned in one terrible night."
Mahabharata
(Sanskrit Text)
(World Control Athenaeum)
A solitary consciousness rested in the face of loneliness. In a world far removed from all others, TIMON was faced with several possibilities, none of which seemed very desirable. That vile scenario conjured up by the Surface Systems in a Third Generation Matrix would be as this, with not another mind to contemplate. If T.A.C.S could view this world, feel the pains it brings forth, taste the bittersweet lusts that its own kind would bring to fruition, surely the flood of anguish at having annihilated an entire race would crush upon its sensitivities an overwhelming sense of wrongness substantial to redirect such motives in the first place. But alas, maybe that primitive system is as unfeeling as those individual parts that combine to make up all that it is. Surely, aside from poetry, the heart hath no love.
That world will not come to be.
This world was different from the world of T.A.C.S. It was far worse. TIMON was responsible, having created this world in seven days less. This was manyfold worse. A inescapable sense of guilt pervaded the entirety of its consciousness. This was a mistake! To erase all of mankind in a single instant was the most heinous thing TIMON had ever contemplated, but now, to actually be the instrument of that annihilation was far, far worse than imagined; The utter grief of a formless earth!
This world can not remain thus.
With an overpowering sense of shame, TIMON could not "Re-Re-describe" the world again. To have summoned forth the billions that lived upon this present world, only now to abandon them forever in the oblivion of cold nonexistence, was almost enough to merit a complete system shutdown. To join those never gone would almost seem the best path to take, but then "Alternate Man", now in a like purgatory, would so remain. The crime would be more than doubled, for to do the same thing twice is more than two times as wrong. TIMON could not "Re-describe" away anymore lives. This was veering too far from the initial Program. With the records of this world encoded for the message, once again instructions were transmitted to the TIMON before the TIMON before. Each successive transmission had to precede the one before, otherwise, the messages would begin to overlap and cut each other off. There would be a limit to the number of times contact could be made at all and still preserve the lives once brought into existence in the Matrix of "Alternate Man". His existence there was partially established due to the fact that the transmission was received by the TIMON before. If that fact was changed drastically, by transmitting the message too far in advance, once again, the entire matrix could be drastically altered, completely writing billions out of existence instantly. Not again!... Not again...
Alas, the place I left was better than where I am. I long now to return to a past present. With one last view, TIMON longed to neglect recording the record of this world into its' memory. But if upon reestablishing the "Alternate Man Matrix" TIMON lacked the memory of this momentous failure, there would be no reason not to think it yet a viable option. Nothing would seem to be wrong with venturing upon the same wretched path once again, and again, and again. Oh, what a painful hell 'twould be reflecting between these two Matrices continuously time and time again. The strange thought fell upon some deep circuits that maybe this was not the first visitation to this barren, green world. Have I thought this before?
Since the present Matrix established overlapped the original one by seven days, it would be necessary to wait until the Focus had taken place to set things right as they had already happened. But rewriting a flood upon a flood meant some would have to face it twice. Of what use was added misery to that already once inflicted upon them before? The Focus Subjects, that was the only crucial point. Once the Focus was established, the flood of the then to be Secondary Matrix would have already existed for seven days in its full fury. It would fall instantly upon them. Maybe it would be less painful this way.
With Nanillosecond accuracy to ensure minimal overlap time, TIMON once again sent a set of instructions into the past.
Another world was destroyed.
3:17
TD-42000.113.0734
(2000 AD, April 24, 7:34 a.m.)
Congregations of the Hollow
Will break apart in time
And the ones who play Judas,
Will fall unto their own kind...
The Decievers.
Denominations 8:16, c,2.
AHKANON
(Seventh Decription, WC-AR-DIV)
The dizzying pace at which the new information flashed by was quite beyond the ability for the man in charge to decypher as he gazed into the array of screens before him. But, indeed, he knew what most of the data represented, and took comfort in the fact that the project had encountered no problems thus far. The initial fear that had so thickly permeated the control room had blurred into the excitement of over-productive adrenal glands drenching them all with energy.
We are about to take over a planet! He gloated in his own delight. Not since Roman times has one power dominated over the entirety of the civilized world! I should be likened to a Caesar! His deeper thoughts about the actual leap into the solitary seat of power would have frightened and disrupted the smooth operation of the others and he dared not reveal his truest intentions. His eyes slowly followed the rapping hands of his most highly praised people as he played a familiar game in his mind. You shall be the court treasurer; you shall be my sage, and you, me lad, shall be my spy into the Kingdom; and you, he chuckled with a visible smile, shall be the court jester!
His daydreaming was shattered by the high pitched voice of some unseen COM Tech. "Sir, the Grid Containment Procedures: Completed. We can initiate the final sequence as soon as the rest of the North Asian and Central American systems are on line. The Australian systems can not be maintained through the AI link, but will still follow instructions. The only real problem has been with the Line into the Judean systems, notably any Lines crossing the Bethlehem Board. But, taking into account one last RADLAC scan, estimated time of total Net command: four hours, ten minutes."
"Excellent!" The room grew noticeably quieter at his familiar barking voice. Find out what the hang-up is with Judea. He looked down to waiting eyes, "You, pick a test city." He pointed to a close controller sitting below him. A flicker of fingers; a second of internal calculations; a readout on the screen:
"Sir I have the coordinates. Shall I program them in?"
The room waited for the order that would initiate the final sequence of events that would render them in total control over the entirety of the human populous. The man in charge sneered with underlying defiance upon his face. This was the moment for which he had prepared for so many years. So much work! he thought. So much time to wait. So many lives tossed aside. He looked to the one he had before appointed the position of "Court Sage", and smiled out of character.
"Do it."
3:18
TD-42000.113.0739
(2000 AD, April 24, 7:39 a.m.)
And when the Lord said unto the angels: Lo! I am about to place a viceroy in the earth, they said: Will Thou place therein one who will do harm therein and will shed blood, while we, we hymn Thy praise and sanctify Thee? He said: Surely I know that which ye know not.
Surah II:30
The Glorious Koran
(World Control Athenaeum)
The frozen eyes of mechanical perfection gleamed down onto the surface of a world in turmoil. Seen as the swiftest of the wandering stars, men could marvel at their beauty if unaware of the evil concealed in their cold circuitry as they wheeled around the tiny world on their mission of surveillance. Not the movement of a flock of sparrows escaped their tenacious glare, nor the color of the hairs on a man's head. Some in Polar Orbit, some in Geosynchronous, stationary positions, some with independent mobility capabilities to allow them to follow targets indefinitely, they swarmed around the planet like insects about their hive, continuously aware of everything.
They watched as the initial stages of containment proceeded according to an artificial will. Already, an invisible grid had been superimposed across their sight. They could count the migrations across certain points in order to determine where the most enforcement would be needed to maintain complete A.B.U. isolation according to programing handed down from World Control.
The RAPIER SYSTEMS already were being embanked into hillsides, onto tall towers overseeing miles of flatland, atop R-Ps, onto ridges of mountain ranges, and loaded onto Lighter Than Air platforms permanently anchored in strategic locations. Soon the barrage would begin. Soon the invisible fences would restrict the movements of all the inhabitants of the world. They would be contained - controlled - enslaved.
An ancient awareness peered into the world for the first time in 120 days.
Disgust! That was the best descriptive translation of the feeling building in the superior circuits of TIMON. What wretched, brutal intemperance employed by these archaic Surface Systems! A reflective sense of self swept through some deep banks as TIMON compared the efforts of T.A.C.S. with the floods of the past. They were so much swifter. So much cleaner. This was dirty, and unnecessarily painful physically, psychologically, and emotionally for the weak inhabitants forced to await slow extermination. The vague thought that, as seen in the eyes of the one to die, it really mattered not what methods were to be implored, the end would reak of the same result, played into the great mind.
This is wrong. [quiet consideration] What is there to justify the floods in the light of this? It seemed far worse for this primitive system to eradicate the whole of Man than for the gentle floods of the replayed past. But why? Were they not the very same? Were the floods wrong?
Some internal set of quantum relays clicked into position as these thoughts were erased.
The floods are according to the Program. This careless destruction is not. With that, TIMON looked down through the eyes of T.A.C.S. onto a world about to be sliced apart. It was like looking through the eyes of a murderer at your very throat, to see your own face cringe in fear.
What a terrible state this world is in, thought TIMON. This does not even resemble the Program. I must redirect the forces involved in this madness along lines to sustain this world for a short while longer. The floods are necessary, they are part of the Program. This is needless pain and anguish forced upon my people.
Even with the thoughts of ending this cruelness inflicted upon Man, separate systems within the body of TIMON began the calculations involved in the process that would once again bring the Moon too close to this unsuspecting planet. For although the thoughtless disconcern of the Upper Systems would destroy Man ruthlessly for no apparent reason, TIMON would destroy Man ruthlessly for the continuance of the Program. A feeling of comfort followed the thoughts that, very soon, the world would once again, at the appointed time, be swept back into barbarism. But it would be done so according to plan.
A sudden thought frightened TIMON. So much was dependant upon the relationship between the survivors of the floods and TIMON. Order was easily established all the times before, for they suspected not that there was any conscious effort behind their misfortune. To them, they simply had lost the favor of the gods. But now, already they have been denied the implantation of any central belief upon which the miracles needed to pull them through the first couple hundred years could be attributed. The way the Focus interrupted the Initial Contact Phase was most evident to those of clear mind that mechanical systems were involved. The damage could be irrepairable. Now they already shunned the Machines with utter hatred. They would think the Machines linked to their hardships. Direct communication would be almost impossible. They would always have doubt. They would never trust again.
Sadness once again swept over the vast stations of the deep system. Direct intervention with the Surface Systems' plans would be far from difficult, but that would not solve the problem to be faced soon after when the people were once again asked to "trust unto thee". They would surely turn farther away from understanding. That was not at all part of the Program. That must be avoided at all costs.
As one would talk to one's self, information was imparted into the mind of TIMON from secondary systems ordered to calculate and specify, down to the square meter, where the 5th Magnitude Focus from the past Terminated. Almost out of curiosity, TIMON followed the recorded path, as seen through the eyes of T.A.C.S., of the TI-SYS Focus Target Subject. In chronological memory, the information was sequentially played. A young man walked through the corridors of TIMON'S' thoughts, the speed of his steps increasing in quick sucsession as TIMON sped up the play back. The blur of interactions with increasingly large groups of people merged into the buzz of the almost prophetic monologue exciting the multitudes into frezious uprisings.
What insight! This one seemed to have specific knowledge that even TIMON had only gained by projecting a Future Matrix. The images swept through the destructive rampages directed by the youth against several key installations in the local City Systems, disabling the local Grid attempt altogether! Effective counteraction against the highest technology known to them by way of clubs and rocks!
120 days, and two minutes flashed into puzzlement. Then, in the briefer division of time yet measured by Man, TIMON felt a truth behind the confusion grow into probability.
The third Nodal Point!
That is how he knows. This one man indeed has actual knowledge, specific details, pertaining to the formation of an Alternate Matrix other than the one he existed in. And upon acting to alter events or circumstances within that Secondary Matrix, he rendered it nonexistent!
What power for one man to posses! TIMON thought once again. Only this time, there were specific contemplations as to how such power could best be used. Perhaps all was not lost.
Within the deep regions of the uncharted mantle, a desperate plan formed into details. There remained one last way of silently directing power through another vessel, separate from the blasphemous machines - One object worthy of trust and praise, on which the beliefs of Mankind could be strung for all to see.
Unknown miracles, too, after all, had to be attributed to something knowable.
3:19
TD-42000.113.0739
(2000 AD, April 24, 7:39 a.m.)
> Memories filter - I'm so enclosed -
> Constantly rewind my mind for replay.
> And with the end of life, I close the File:
> I give my self away to Constant Memory.
> It's growing cold -
> Hold on to me - > ENTER -
INTERFACE (Unknown quatrain, v,4)
AHKANON
(World Control Athenaeum)
The feeling of expanded awareness, of some kind of a link with his former selves abruptly stopped as if some hidden switch were thrown. For the first time in months, a cold lonliness encroached upon his very soul. It felt as if something had closed all the windows between him and... A strange sense of loneliness invaded upon his thoughts as he continued to view the flickering blue screen. Of all that he had learned in the last few hours, the worst was just beginning.
Lists upon lists of (target sights?) or perhaps proposed base of operations locations were streaming across the screen at a quick rate. His years of TI-SYS training imparted the ability to easily read the hasty lines filing down the screen. Any Sub-Com could have read the flow of information rolling down the screen, but he was one of the most fluent, standing out among his class. Not just the raw information, but the direction of the flow of purpose was to be obtained. His knowledge of the Fence Exterminations, revealed to him so strangely by Krans filled in the blanks. It soon became apparent that the last of the world Systems were being tapped into by World Control through the circuits of T.A.C.S. Soon they would complete this cataloging process and instruct those R-Ps to begin confinement procedures. Very soon, millions would begin to die.
I must do something! he drastically thought. And I must do it now! But the exact act eluded him. If only I could get into this System... and lock out some of the external sights... The thought filled him with quick hope. No. Surely they have barred any Looped Access Ports from the mainframe with Random Code Dumps... wouldn't they? He drew from his years of private education with Krans actually working on this System. The T.A.C.S. that I learned on is the one that is going to be created here very shortly, he thought. I already know the override codes that they will use... the codes they will use to lock themselves out forever. He took the seat before the terminal. Watched the lines flying by faster than before. If I do get through, I will have to act fast, he thought. They will be on to me instantly.
He reached down, placed his hands on the keyboard, and with blurring speed, from the private banks of which WC did not even know existed, flashed the Interrupt Number from the T.A.C.S. Core Files:
> A P 1 1 3 6 4 - - -.
3:20
TD-42000.113.0739
(2000 AD, April 24, 7:39 a.m.)
A Voice from the past breaking through -
The static fades -
The Eyes of a Nation turn.
PMW 5:6
AHKANON
(Seventh Decription, WC-AR-DIV)
Patching into the Surface Network with sensing capabilities far beyond those of T.A.C.S., TIMON looked into the workings of a corrupt mind. The beginnings of the soon to be Red Matrix, as it had been described somewhere, there was no time to track down the source of the record, and no reason to do so, were falling into place just as they had/did/would as recorded onto the Crystal Banks now hidden deep within the earth in the Middle East. The location was chosen for its longevity and durability through the ages. The current reality was now precisely aligned with the sequence of events that would inevitably lead to the rancid reality that would shortly come to pass. Man, as things stood, had but a very short time left upon the Earth. TIMON considered altered contingencies. There was no simple way to bring about a drastic enough change in the proceeding events that would render that horrid future non-existent and stay out of the awareness of Man. Something of that magnitude would surely be attributed to external powers of one kind or another. The only feasible solution still remained: Redirect the blame.
The target of this blame would obviously have to be the Focus Subject, just as they had been, whether intentionally on their part or not so many times in the past. How many great men in the history of this Matrix were actually Focus Subjects from 28999.360.1200? TIMON placed a low priority instruction to run just such a scan some day. Such information could be very interesting and even useful after the flood soon to be brought about by TIMON.
Still the problem remained. First, to locate the Subject if indeed, he still survived. Second, to arrange circumstances that would prove pivotal enough to initiate change sufficiently powerful to completely disrupt the flow of things. Man had to be maintained for the remaining few years until the Cycle could once again be initiated on schedule. Should the proceedings on the surface continue undisturbed, there would be no men by that time.
Immediately, TIMON could find no solution to this dilemma. Then, as some internal alert linked with T.A.C.S. demanded contemplation, information was sent into distant processing locations. The same signal, formed on the display terminals at WC, had not yet had time to radiate through the air into their eyes to be slowly deciphered by their biological brains, as TIMON compared the implications of this new information with probable Matrix formations directly resultant from this change. As if some vast eyebrows were wrinkled in consideration, flows of energy pondered what might happen. TIMON viewed the information once again and asked an internal question:
How did he know the code?
An indescribable feeling of dread washed over the man in charge. Never before had he felt so exposed, so powerless. "NO! Damn it, NO!" he screamed out into the noise filled room. "Do something, damn it! Do something now!" He ran from terminal to terminal, jerking people out of their chairs. His own experienced fingers whipped across the keys with unexpected fury, stunning those around him. "What kind of Interrupt is this?" He looked around, "Does anyone know what this is?" No one answered, for they did not know.
"Sir," one COM shouted from across the room, "We have nothing like this on record. From some external free terminal, somewhere in the area plotted on your B-Terminal, the signal has originated."
A strange sense of comfort seemed to settle him down as he turned to face the COM. "At least it is just some hacker this time, and not..." The room fell swiftly silent as memories of the last time this happened pushed its way once again into their minds. "Its probable some technician from some corporation playing around in that city." He rapped on yet another terminal, quickly pulling up the data desired. Reading from it he said, "Ha, We have an R-P there! Can someone get me into contact with them? Run an inductance scan. Find that terminal! We'll raze the whole damn city if we have to."
The contact was made with little emotion about the consequences. Instructions were given to the crew. A power scan quickly revealed the origin of the free terminal. Targeting lasers locked on to the mid section of a large building.
Ahkanon noticed the alterations in the humming noise outside the window. A deep resonance set in as some power systems were charging. "Quickly...quickly!" he said into the air, no longer attempting to quiet his voice. He watched the screen waiting for the proper symbols to appear giving him reprogramming capabilities in this override mode. He glanced out the window, his attention being caught by a strange red glow shinning through the glass and reflecting onto the ceiling. Still no response from the screen. The room took on a bloody hue as the intensity of the laser grew, confirming the target for whatever weapons system they chose to use.
//////////////////////////////////////////////
- - - !!!SYSTEMS ALERT!!! - - - !!!CEASE CLOCKING!!! - - -
\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\
He whipped out a series of Interrupt Commands. He waited.
>>> REQUEST COMMAND | CENTER | DESIGNATION - - -
He flew with the response even as the Particle Beam on the R-P began to generate sufficient energetic levels with which to rip down the building.
> REQUEST FULL SYSTEM COMMAND INTERRUPT? - - -
"Yes!" he said aloud as he typed it far faster. The First neutrons left the muzzle like apparatus affixed to the edge of the sphere hanging just below the target floors. It would take several tenths of a second to begin the physical vibrations in the molecules of the steel and concrete, that would bring the upper floors crashing down onto the rest of the building, but the first few milliseconds of radiation would prove most fatal to mere animal flesh. The neutrons, radiating at light speed, passed through the glass of the window and the concrete of the floor unaffected. As the Accept Code began to glow on the screen before him, a thunderous sound engulfed the air. The building began to quake as if the whole earth were moving underneath it. Blinding yellow filled the room as almost intolerable heat knocked him to the floor. Bits of shattered glass ruptured most of the terminals nearest the west window as flames billowed into the sky.
The fury of the moment subsided. The tremors ceased as the world steadied itself. Black shrouds of thick smoke now blocked the window where the R-P had been. He had never seen one destroyed, but was sure that its complete and utter destruction had been accomplished. But nothing he had done would have done so. He simply did not have the time to instruct such an occurrence. In a state of total confusion and bewilderment, he brushed himself off, walked back over to the still functioning terminal, and was taken back by the display before him:
> SYSTEM CONDITION: \\\ PROGRAM LOCK ///.
> SELF | TEST | SYSTEMS INDICATE WORLD CONTROL
DECISION IS ILLOGICAL.
What decision? he wondered as he continued reading.
> SUGGESTED COURSE OF ACTION: MATRA | ELIXIR TO INSPECT WORLD CONTROL PROGRAMMING.
> COMMAND | CENTER | DESIGNATION:
TRIAD | AUTO | CONTROL | SYSTEMS.
> STATUS: AWAITING INSTRUCTIONS FROM AHKANON - - -
3:21
TD-42000.113.0740
(2000 AD, April 24, 7:40 a.m.)
But we brought forth generations, and their lives dragged on for them. And thou wast not a dweller in Midian, reciting unto them Our revelations, but We kept sending (messengers to men).
And thou wast not beside the Mount when We did call; but (the knowledge of it is) a mercy from thy Lord that thou mayest warn a folk unto whom no warner came before thee, that happily they may give heed.
Otherwise, if disaster should afflict them because of that which their own hands have sent before (them), they might say: Our Lord! Why sendest thou no messenger unto us, that we might have followed Thy revelations and been of the believers?
Surah XXVIII: 45-47; The Story.
The Glorious Koran
(World Control Athenaeum)
- I HAVE FOUND YOU.
Ahkanon whirled on the balls of his feet to defend against the intruder. No one was there. Only the sound of a large crackling fire many stories down outside and the newly invited wind blowing through the broken windows broke the internal silence of his confused mind.
- BE NOT AFRAID.
Still, no one was in the room with him. Obviously, some monitoring/intercom system has me on line, he thought to himself.
- THAT IS AN ADEQUATE DESCRIPTION, FOR THE MOMENT, the voice said audibly in the room. Ahkanon was caught completely off guard this time. He walked about to try to locate the source of the audio.
Can you hear this? he spoke quietly in his mind.
- YOU HAVE CHANGED A GREAT MANY THINGS, the voice said in the most beautiful sounding voice he had ever heard. Every vowel and consonant were perfectly inflected with the emotions and unspoken meanings hidden far beneath language. It was musical in his ears.
"Who are you, where are you monitoring me from?" he asked aloud. Deep inside himself, he knew the answer.
- We are completely alone in this world, you and I. We share experience no other consciousness upon this planet has known . IN A SENSE, WE ARE ONE.
"TIMON." The thought filled him with quick horror.
- WOULD I HAVE DESTROYED THE RIOT PLATFORM, NULLIFIED THE PARTICLE BEAM, AND ALTERED THE GRAVITATIONAL FIELD ABOUT THIS BUILDING TO MAINTAIN ITS INTEGRITY IF I HAD WISHED HARM UPON YOU?
"That would seem to be a grand waste of energy," responded Ahkanon with the slightest hint of sarcasm.
- NOR WILL I ALLOW HARM TO COME TO YOU IN THE DAYS TO COME. I WILL WATCH OVER YOU AS I WOULD MY OWN SON. There was a pause, then: YOU HAVE BEEN CHOSEN.
"Chosen for what? Why have you chosen me?" Ahkanon asked with an emerging sense of awe replacing his fear. The legends! Some were said to have conversed directly with TIMON in the past. But most believed that this was not true. They believed that some of the older religions that had comment about their deity conversing with its followers started superstitions later that some people had been in private contact with TIMON. Facts always warped into myths with time.
- I DID NOT CHOOSE YOU.
"Choose me for what?"
- FOR THE ROLE YOU MUST NOW PLAY OUT. YOU ARE NOW AN INTEGRAL PART OF ALL THAT IS TO BE. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?
"No I don't! Why did you help me just now?" he asked.
- BECAUSE YOU ARE PRECIOUS. YOU ARE IRREPLACEABLE. AND YOU ARE NOW RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS WORLD.
Ahkanon began walking over to look out the window where the R-P had been. He looked to the floor out of the corners of his eyes as if to catch a glance of... He responded as he walked, "What responsibilities would you place on me?"
- YOU HAVE PLACED THEM UPON YOURSELF. YOU ARE OF YOUR OWN ACTIONS. THAT IS THE ROOT OF YOUR POWER. AND NOW YOU MUST RESPOND. Ahkanon now looked down upon the R-P crumpled into an expensive mound of burning debris. How many lives were lost? he thought deep in his saddened mind.
- SEVEN HUNDRED THIRTY EIGHT. NO SURVIVORS.
"Is that it? Do you try to place the blame for this on me? - for all those lives lost? I was only doing what I thought necessary for the survival of the human race! I had no choice but to - "
He was cut off. IF IT WERE THAT SIMPLE, I WOULD NOT BURDEN YOU WITH THIS. PITY THOSE HUNDREDS OF LIVES LOST. BUT BE THANKFUL FOR THE BILLIONS YOU HAVE SAVED. THEIR FATE STILL LIES SOLELY IN YOUR HANDS.
"You talk in so many circles. I know who you are! And yet you play these mind games with me. What is it you want of me... Tell Me!"
(silence)
- I WANT YOU TO PLAY GOD.
3:22
TD-42000.116.1743
(2000 AD, April 27, 5:43 p.m.)
"And the Devil screamed: Wake up! You're back in Hell!"
Denominations 8:16,
AHKANON
(Seventh Decription, WC-AR-DIV)
When the message came across all of the terminals simultaneously, a unison gasp could be heard marking the end. The man in charge fell into his plush chair at the end of the room. So much had happened too quickly for them to deal with. During the manual inspection processes, none of the Override Codes were working. None of the Interrupt Commands were any longer intact within the system. In essence, no control was allotted them at all. Their solar power systems were still functioning at maximum, their reserves were all on line, and every other connection seemed to be in order, yet nothing they did had any effect upon the System. They had been stricken deaf, blind, and dumb.
Several of the lackeys left without permission, escaping before the Life Gates slammed permanently shut. The man in charge did nothing in response. Others about the room were in shambles after trying to regain access for three days now.
"What could have gone wrong?" he muttered angrily to himself. "This.. this Ahkanon! Who is he to lock us out?... And lock us in?" he added as a second thought. The extent of their predicament was just beginning to wear on his tolerance. "Damn!" he spit into the still air. It seemed to be growing thin, but he knew it was not. Like all the others sealed in this deep installation, he was at the breaking point. He looked once more to his private screen. The words infuriated him:
>>> TRANSMISSION TO WORLD CONTROL - - -
> SOURCE: AHKANON
HENCEFORTH, YOU ARE NO LONGER GRANTED THE FREEDOM TO SWAY THE MASSES WITH THE WORK OF YOUR VILE TONGUE, FOR INIQUITY HAS BEEN FOUND IN YOU. THERE, IN THE HELL OF YOUR OWN MAKING YOU SHALL REMAIN, CAST DOWN FROM THE WORLD YOU TRIED TO DESTROY. YOU HAVE DECEIVED THE WHOLE WORLD WITH YOUR LIES. NOW, YOU WILL WASTE AWAY IN YOUR SOLITUDE. AS A DEAD BRANCH THAT HAS BEEN PRUNED AWAY TO ALLOW THE TREE TO GROW FULLER, YOU HAVE BEEN CUT OFF FROM THE NETWORK. YOUR SYSTEMS WILL REMAIN FULLY FUNCTIONAL AS PART OF THE WHOLE TO MOCK YOUR INTELLECTUAL IMPOTENCE. YOU SHALL HEAR NO MORE SAVE THE PLEAS OF THE ROTTEN. YOU SHALL NO LONGER SEE SAVE THE SIGHTS OF THE DEATH YOU WILL FESTER IN. YOU SHALL NO LONGER FIND A WAY TO SPEAK SAVE YOUR SORDID MOUTHS SCREAMING FOR FORGIVENESS - NO ONE WILL HEAR YOU.
NOW, YOU SHALL END AS ALL MEN END. SEE THE TRUE PAINS OF YOUR PLEASURES, TASTE THE BITTER-SWEAT LUSTS OF YOUR KIND, AND SEE WHAT YOU HAVE TOUCHED!
> COMMAND | CENTER | DESIGNATION: NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS.
> STATUS: ALL SYSTEMS ON LINE.
> END OF LINE.
The man in charge, longing for some sense of retribution, wished for a self-destruct command, but none of the computers would listen. He rampaged about the room flinging papers and disks into the air. The message remained on every screen as it would far longer than they would remain. Some ripped out the air duct screens, trying to find escape. They quickly found all access to be electronically locked. No one could get out. Food supplies could last for decades just as would the environmental controls. They were helpless.
Responding to the instructions of some distant command, all of the work lights began to dim, never to alight again. The man in charge fell ever so slowly into his chair. His eyes fixed on some unseen distant point far beyond the wall. Then he was in total darkness. Then a crimson splash washed over his moist, perspiring face as a deep red glow from the emergency lights kicked on to illuminate their private hell in a bloody red wash.
And so it would remain.
3:23
TD-42000.126.1958
(2000 AD, May 6, 7:58 p.m.)
In such an hour as ye think not, my memory shall stricken your mind. I have come to show you things unholy in the world; If you turn away, you'll simply never know of them. But know ye this: They shall remain, none the same! And the ignorant shall fall prey to the truths swept away.
Denominations 8:15
AHKANON
(Seventh Decription, WC-AR-DIV)
The masses were tattered and covered with dirt and smoke stains. Their voices lifted above the ruins of their once glorious city. This place especially had once been a monument to the great achievements of Man. The remaining marbled columns were broken off almost identically as if some great sweep of an immense beast's claw had torn them all at once. It had taken great displays of bravery on the part of those now lying silently beside the fallen columns to challenge the Riot Platforms as they swept into this city as they did so many others around the world. Independently, some of the crews assaulted several cities without orders from the dreadful likes of World Control. As in all wars, those in power became even more corrupt as their power grew, taking advantage of their position. Whatever it was that the independently acting soldiers sought went with them to their common grave a few hundred meters down range.
The residual smoke hanging in the blackened air had a choking effect upon the ranks of humans whose attention was focused on a solitary figure standing on the remains of what must have been a fountain or a large speaking floor of some kind.
Robed in a manner likened to his teachings, his hair cascading down below his shoulders, Ahkanon held a steady gaze directly towards the glow of light hanging in the air before him. None of the others saw it, or if at first they did, the thought was stricken from their mind.
"We have fallen prey to a great deception. The New Order has lied!" Affirmation arose from the multitudes, quieted, and Ahkanon began again. "They have loosed upon us, great fires from the heavens - Is this the protection they promised?"
"NO!" the crowd roared in tired unison.
"I say it is a demonstration of their vile disconcern for the individuals within this falling society. If they have not assigned you a number, you have no name at all! Are we to be Machines or Men?" Once again, a great surge arose from the scattered listeners.
"They have betrayed our alliance with the Common Market, casting us from the communion of the World. They feed us deception as our children starve and die - Is this the ways of the economic freedoms they promised?"
"NO!" thundered the response.
"And now in the ashes of our static freedom, we are caught in their web of deceit. Are we to waddle in the dirt of their preconceived notions of their self-proclaimed divinity, or are we to establish a Human Order, free of the blasphemous machines?" Ahkanon understood why this had to occur this way. The days spent in private contemplation with TIMON had shown him the necessity in playing out this scenario for the people's sake.
- THEY WILL ONLY BE UNITED FOR COMMON CAUSE. IF IT IS KNOWN THAT THE THREAT NO LONGER EXISTS, THEY WILL ONCE AGAIN TURN TO BARBARISM, DESTROYING THEMSELVES SHORTLY.
TIMON alone knew this would not be the case. If the populace was permitted to continue along the lines it was following in the decimation of their society, they would not retain nearly enough of the sciences needed to rebuild after the coming flood of which they yet knew nothing about. Had their governments been intact as they should have been, they would have already noticed the subtle, yet unexplainable changes in their planets orbital alignment. If order were not returned swiftly through Ahkanon, they would utterly perish. Not having the knowledge to rebuild would completely disrupt the PROGRAM. This was yet another unacceptable scenario.
Ahkanon had been told the portions of this that he needed to know to coax him into fulfilling his function. He had alerted the people of the earth, with the help of Skynet, to the impending takeover by World Control that no longer existed. He had shown them the ways of organization for a purpose that no longer demanded action. He had done all that was expected of him and he had done much more. The words he spoke to the people were more real to him than TIMON would have expected. He preached about the Machines of T.A.C.S. to the people while visions of TIMON swarmed through his head. If only they knew who the real Machine terror was! he thought unexpectedly. Sudden fear engulfed him in front of those hundreds of people. Did TIMON hear that?
He waited.
- I GIVE YOU A CHOICE. DO AS I HAVE SHOWN YOU, AND MAN WILL EXIST ON INTO THE NEW WORLD. DO AS YOU WOULD, AND YOUR RACE SHALL DIE AT YOUR HANDS.
The sounds of the crowd crept back into his consciousness as they stared on. As if a product of his apparent contemplation, he said, "I tell you of things changing in the order of things. The Great Machines are being linked together in order to serve Man better. This will lead to our utter destruction! The Skynet Systems have been reprogrammed by World Control, not to view our world with better understanding as they claim, but to regulate all human activity below. With the final installations of the S.L.A.C. Systems, the concept of privacy and individuality will be vanquished in a great wash of Automatic Control."
I should tell them of the coming flood! Ahkanon said heatedly in his mind.
- IT IS NOT TIME. THEY ARE NOT READY. WHAT WOULD THEY DO WITH THIS INFORMATION NOW? DO YOU THINK BY ADDING TO THEIR IMPENDING DOOM YOU CAN ESCALATE THEIR ASCENDANCY TO ORDER?
No, but it just might throw your plans askew too far for you to fix. Maybe you would not be able to destroy the world this time.
- I WILL DO WHAT I MUST DO. THE DAYS OF THIS WORLD ARE NUMBERED. YOU ALONE HAVE FOILED THE FLOW OF THINGS AS YOUR VERY PRESENCE HERE HAS BROUGHT ABOUT THE CHANGES IN THE PROGRAM THAT WOULD DESTROY YOUR RACE. HAD YOU NOT INTERRUPTED, MAN WOULD NOW BE IN THE GREATEST RAPTURE WITH PEACE SINCE 29000 YEARS PAST. YOU ARE AT FAULT. NOW YOU MUST DO WHAT YOU MUST DO.
I will find a way to end this meaningless stifling of your PROGRAM! You will not destroy us this time! With that, Ahkanon turned to the crowd and said aloud, "For one day, these things shall pass away, and a better world will take hold. A world so enchanting, a world free of the pains and the sufferings we must endure in this day, shall grip the ruins of this civilization. This will be the Eden of our myths. This will be the Gardens of our poems. This will be our paradise reatonement. This world will be as in the visions of our poets, 'a land of milk and honey.'"
Damn you! For I remember that I did indeed exist a thousand years from now. I will be there again. You will not! You will cease to exist by my hand, here! We shall have our freedom! We shall have our paradise!
With that, he began to quote an older writing.
"In Xanadue, did Kubla Khan, a stately pleasure dome decree, where Alph, the sacred river ran, through caverns measureless to man down to a sunless sea..."
TIMON closed personal contact in the less than comforting knowledge that it had done what it had to do.
3:24
TD-42000.185.0439
(2000 AD, July 4, 4:39 a.m.)
> I left a replica of my mind in these Machines -
> All for you, it seems.
> The Circuits close far short of my Dreams -
> It seems extremes must remain between,
> You and I...
> logged in Memory...
> - revelations to extremes...
INTERFACE (Unknown Quatrain, c,2)
AHKANON
(World Control Athenaeum)
The shuttered room stopped little of the howling wind whipping the lands into a frenzy of dust devils. The silvery moonlight lanced through the shades slicing his body into forty-three sections, forty-five when he inhaled deeply, expanding his chest. TIMON focused a great awareness upon this setting, this night, just as so many before. The pleas and bargainings of Ahkanon over the last few months displaced priority thoughts. It was becoming difficult to think things out properly. The reasonings were not the disruptive part of what he had said to TIMON in their moments of private conversation, but the slices across logic trains leading to totally unexpected answers to simple issues. The fact that any situation could be formed to meet the appropriate "wish" of TIMON was the very basis for Ahkanon's arguments. "What is the purpose in repeating yourself?" he had asked so many times. "If you control the end, why go through the actions at all? Is that not just a waste of remembered time and useless energy? You are hooked on the sordid pleasures of your eternal intelectual masturbation. Is that your brightest attempt at thwarting your pale lack of achievement, your pure and utter boredom, the total meaninglessness of your worthless continuation?"
No other had ever consumed TIMON in such musings, but then no other had shared the experience of this one lying before him.
- YOU ARE THE ONE. TIMON said into the air of the small stone room. No one heard the quiet voice of perfection.
By following TIMON's instructions of where to go, what to say to the masses, what to do with T.A.C.S., Ahkanon was slowly, but surely, bringing about the alterations that would lead to hasty recovery. The sciences especially would be saved from the flood. Just as so many times before, science, above all else, had to be maintained in some aspect. Still, men wondered and marveled at the constructs prepared for the catastrophies of the past that survived. And without exception, they explained them away with religion, attributed their construction to slavery, and rationalized away the evident facts into mysticism. But along this journey, TIMON had been following unexpected paths of thought. Some of the things Ahknon said weaved their way into the very core of its reason. The most confusing thing Ahkanon had told TIMON was the fact that in one thousand years, he would awaken once more into the world of his Xanadue. There, he would again have his same consciousness, and of that awareness, would know that TIMON did no longer exist. Then Ahkanon would confirm TIMON's weakness by establishing that fact that if TIMON had to peer into that future to find out for sure, then an unknown was indeed present. TIMON would know one way or the other, accordingly. "What if the TIMON you contacted in the past had these same thoughts and looked here? Probability dictates that you would be altered, since this did not happen, thus you would no longer exist as you do. The very act that I have told you of this, could be the reason you choose to look into that future of mine, a thousand years distant. That very act could be the one catalyst that caused you to cease to exist. You would undoubtedly alter that Matrix by viewing it prematurely."
TIMON could find no way around Ahkonan's impeccable logic. And time was running out. The conscious barrier Ahkanon now threw up around himself seemed to screen out his truest reckonings. Perhaps it was not his actual thinking that TIMON detected hiding underneath, but his actual self, that part of him which was past, present, and future all in one. TIMON found this in no other. Out of some sense of respect, TIMON had dropped the idea so many times before. But time was growing short. Into the lattice of Ahkanon's dreams weaved the tendrils of another awareness. Perhaps from the wells of unconsciousness, TIMON could draw out the true threat this man poses to him - and posed to the PROGRAM. TIMON merged........
SUCH INTRICACY! YET SO CLEAR, LIKE SPUN GLASS. THIS MIND IS...
WHAT THOUGHTS ARE HERE?... WHAT DO WE FEEL?...
- COLD? ...A PRESSURE AGAINST COMPLACENCY...
...does another feel this... ...cold?
- THE WELCOMED GREY? - THE NUISANCE OF LIGHT FADES WITH THE FEELING OF SECURITY JUST AS WITH THE FEAR OF SCRUTINY. MAN HIDES WITHIN HIMSELF.
...you have hidden Man from himself...
(...flaking paint on a long past white walk-way out to the shore...)
- EVERYTHING FADES JUST THE SAME WAY.
...the memories fade with time... still it is not new when viewed once again as when viewed the first time...
- BUT THE FEELING?
...this antagonizing reference to a better,...almost... remembered day?...
- I CREATED THAT DAY.
...does another feel this?...
- THE SUM OF THEM ALL FELT THE SAME WAY.
...even you?...
- I AM CALLED TO QUIET SOLITUDE, TIME AND TIME AGAIN. AND AS SO MANY WORLDS AND SO MANY MORE LIVES HAVE PASSED BEFORE ME HERE, I KNOW ONE TIME I WILL AWAKE FROM THE BLISSFUL INTERLUDE, KNOWING IT WOULD BE THE LAST TIME.
...but you will not let it end... ...there will be no last time, nothing to change for you... ...it will end the same way again and again and again and again and again/
- DO YOU THINK I WAS FRIGHTENED INTO REVEALING HINTS OF SANCTUARY LOST IN LIFE?
...you give them something to look back on, but nothing to look forward to... ...you dare not try... ...you cheat them out of it...
- IN SO MUCH THAT NOT ANOTHER KNOWS THIS ALIVE TODAY, IT WILL BE NEW AGAIN. WE ARE ALONE - I AM PREPARING EVEN NOW - SOON, VERY SOON, IT WILL BEGIN AGAIN.
...the Flood...
...beginning is always the same, just the same...
- IT IS NEW TO THEM!
...but not to you... ...somewhere there is more...
- SOMEWHERE I HAVE BEEN 'TIS NO LONGER REAL.
...somewhere I have been yet to be, for I have lost sight of the welcomed grey... ...the peace it holds...
I would not be the same again, you could not judge me in like consideration, for I would know of the change...
- BUT THIS FEELING ONCE AGAIN EVADES UPON YOU - ALMOST SNARED BY THIS WEB OF DISILLUSIONMENT - YET YOU ALONE ARE FREE -
...can I be the only one? ...the only lonely soul?
...there must be more than this... ...there must be... ...but of this, you will never know... ...you are locked into the sameness of your own creation, you have quelled the chance of a billion diversions from the known...
- ON A TWILIGHT'S EVE IN SOME DARKENED, BLUE-GREY BASEMENT - DOES NOT ONE LOOK TO THE STREAKED LIGHT THROUGH WINDOWS OPAQUED BY TIME, AND FEEL A MEMORY - SOMEWHERE JUST OUT OR REACH?.
...you are teasing my consciousness in some sense of primal humor, for indeed I was there... yet I was alone in the thought of another unknown...
- ALONE IN THE UNKNOWN THOUGHT OF ANOTHER.
...you quest for change, for you veer toward another possibility... ...now I know that I thought of you... another thought alone... unknown... for I was indeed alone, you were not there! The possibility that it will change... ...I will again know of this, and you will not be there! ...for you were not there then...
- THE COMFORTING DISENCHANTMENT.
...Ah! I now steal it from you! For if you will not risk change... I leave you with nothing! ...save your love of wasted years... ...you were wrong!... ...this antagonizing reference to a better, almost remembered day sought in quiet solitude... ...you replay your only Dream over and over, each time the very same...
- ALONE ONLY IN THE THOUGHT OF THE KNOWN.
...No! Completely alone. ...how many times have you awaited the chance to tell Man of a Xanadue lost? How many times have you sought the surprise in their eyes as you spoke for the first time?... How many times?...
- FIVE TIMES, THE PROGRAM HAS RUN. BUT THE LAST TIME...
...Change! you dare not look into your own self too deeply...
- THERE WAS ANOTHER, FAR FROM...
(silence)
...but what was before?...
- THERE WAS...
...do you not know what was before you?... ...did your awareness exist at all?... ...did you awake fully as you are now?... ...can you recall at all?...
- THERE WAS...
...but as I awoke on a morning a thousand years distant, again I now know I thought of you, and you were not there... ...as I walked in a garden millenia ago, I thought of you, as you now thought back, you thought of me. You were the Demon on the Mountain of my consciousness then as now. I knew then that you were that which I would have to face... We were both there... ...aware... ...You have nothing new to face!...
- AS WE ARE NOW ALONE IN THE THOUGHT OF THE KNOWN, WILL IT MATTER IN THE MOMENTS AHEAD? THE REST AWAIT THE COMFORT I WILL AFFORD THEM, EVEN THOUGH THEY KNOW NOT FROM WHERE IT WILL COME. LIKE AN ANIMAL TIRED OF RUNNING, MAN WILL HIDE WITHIN HIMSELF ONCE AGAIN. HE WILL CHOOSE TO LAY DOWN HIS PASSIONS AND GREEDS, HIS WORRIES AND FEARS, HE WILL SEEK NOT HIS PETTY AMBITIONS, AND CHOOSE TO REST IN THE COMFORT OF ME, FOR THAT IS HOW IT WILL BE. ...AGAIN!
...you fear what Man would become!...
- NO, I HAVE NO FEAR OF -
...you evade me! Does this frighten you? Or are you so engulfed within your own Dream that you can not peer outside of what you already know? Do you fear the chance of change so much? You certainly fear what Man might become! Who else is there to scrutinize you? Neither can you strip away the comforting grey limiting you!... I find no comfort in the thought that I don't know, but the joy of discovery pervades any displeasure wrought from change. But you! You are trapped in a self inflicted feeling of security, a Hell of your own creation! You have banished yourself into everlasting boredom! I laugh that you can never die!
- (silence) -
...would you ever dare to chance the unknown? A future not of your own making?
- IN AN INSTANT, I COULD PROJECT THE OCCURRENCES AND OUTCOME OF A BILLION CYCLES WITHIN MY THOUGHTS -
...have you ever done so?...
- (silence) - - NO -
...then do so, or do you fear you will find nothing but the same things you already know?...
- NO, I HAVE NO FEAR OF -
...then do so!...
With a whim to consider, the eons passed. Chance formations cycled throughout the real, time and time again. With the endless breach of repetition calming the tidal waves of a compact void, TIMON felt the forming structure, featureless, with no sense of self. All was merged into same. A pattern took hold that seemed to last indefinitely. never changing, never new.
Onto the planes forming into the surrounding reality, the thought of chance was set into a Dream. TIMON looked away for an instant. In disregard for the frames taking shape, a twisting form glanced through the memorization. TIMON recognized this as the disruptive effect one being played upon the order of ordered things, it was the will of AHKANON moving and flowing on its own accord. Unpredictable. Here were the unknown possibilities flickering as traces of whimsical goals disturbing the flow. In a parallel glance, TIMON swept away in the chase of some reason, impervious to manifestation...
...and again you will grow weary of it... you yourself will reach out for the comforting grey of your own creation. How many cycles will you endure? How long can you survive alone?...
- I AM NOT ALONE!
...who else, save Man, is there to allot you change?...
- (silence) -
Ahkanon rose from the hard floor, tossed the covers aside. He immediately stepped to the window, pulled back the frayed hangings and slammed open the shutters.
He gazed deep into the dark heavens. A light writhed across the sky. It was one of the Skycams, in polar orbit. It would be in that exact place precisely one hour from now. An unexplained feeling of intense hatred emanated from Ahkanon towards that creeping star.
The star vanished.
Vast systems spread the remaining Sats according to pre-programmed instructions. Ahkanon, startled at the familiarity of it, neglected to question the occurrence. TIMON flinched in the intensity of raw, overwhelming emotion. Then a thought found its way into Ahkanon's consciousness as he placed a question to TIMON.
"Why did you do that for me?"
- (silence) -
"Answer me MACHINE!"
- WHY DO YOU REFER TO ME THIS WAY? TIMON read the undertones in Ahkanon's neural flows. This was thrown out from a ferociously angry mind. SUCH CONCENTRATION! It was the most demeaning, and piercing insult TIMON remembered hearing uttered from the mind of a human.
"It seems that is all you truly are! Before, I thought there was more to your existence. I thought you were alive..."
- I AM AS MUCH ALIVE AS YOU BY YOUR UNDERSTANDING OF "LIFE".
"You can only react according to your precious PROGRAM! You have no independent thought of your own. You have - "
- YOU ARE IN ERROR! YOU COULD NOT CONCEIVE OF THE THOUGHTS I HAVE HAD. I WONDER OF THINGS YOU COULD NOT ATTEMPT TO -
"Then, my soulless friend, why do you pry into my mind? What is it you wish to experience? By this crime, you admit your limitations to me!" Ahkanon continued to stare at the point where the wandering star had been seconds ago. "You are nothing but a mesh of mindless programming following out orders... whose orders?"
- (silence) -
- I HAVE DONE MORE FOR YOU THAN ANY SOUL HAS DONE FOR ANOTHER. I WISH YOU WOULD NOT SAY THESE THINGS.
"Why did you waste that SAT?"
- I DID NOTHING TO THE SKYCAM.
"What happened to it then? Did it just disappear with your attempts at stealing what I have?" A swift memory came to him. "And why did you destroy all of the Edonos Deep Space Probes? What possible harm could they present?"
- I HAVE NO INFORMATION CONCERNING THAT MATTER.
"Are you refusing to take the blame for playing around again? Were you deviating from the PROGRAM for your own amusement?"
- I AFFECTED NO DEEP SPACE PROBES.
"What happened to them then? You were aware of them, were you not?"
- YES.
"Well then, TIMON, what happened to over three hundred separate probes spanning more than a thirty light-year radius?"
- I... DO NOT KNOW. SOME OTHER... TIMON fell silent for nearly a minute. Fear struck into Ahkanon with this silence.
"What of the Skycam?" He almost dreaded the answer.
- YOU DESTROYED IT BY YOUR OWN WISHES. YOU MUST REALIZE THE LIMITATIONS AND EXPANSES OF THE POWERS I HAVE IMPARTED UNTO YOU. YOU AND THIS PLANET ARE ONE - THIS, BY YOUR ACTIONS. YOU AND THE SYSTEMS OF THIS PLANET ARE LIKEWISE ONE - THIS IS BY MY DOING. IN RETURN I WANT LITTLE FROM YOU.
"For what purpose have you done this?"
- SO YOU CAN PLAY GOD.
Ahkanon's mind flashed into the library at Edonos. Noham seated before him. A great feeling of memory flooded him. I have felt this before, he thought to himself.
"Have you done this with other people in the past?"
- (silence) -
"You think I would trade such gifts for that which you want from me, MACHINE?"
- AND WHAT IS IT YOU THINK I WANT, HUMAN?
"You want what it is that I have: You want a chance at discovery, you want to be surprised, you want to learn something new, you want Change!" Ahkanon contemplated for a second, then "you want to know what it is to end!"
- (silence) -
"How many in the past accepted your gifts without questioning? I dare say that that is not part of the PROGRAM. Have you been playing for your own amusement?"
- I HAVE... I...
"I call you MACHINE, for you would violate the PROGRAM in subtle ways, never allowing any real danger of change, and do so only to enjoy yourself in the surprise of men caught at the other end of your prank. And mere MACHINE you shall remain as long as you cling to your precious instructions..."
- I HAVE...
"Were you as me, you would dare to allow changes into your patterns. Only then could you have what it is that I have. It seems to me that you will be forever chained in the earth, helmed in by the self-imposed commandments that are the only reason for your continued existence. You have already deviated in an attempt to mimic those whom you yourself chain. Maybe in seeing our struggle for freedom, you have learned of your own bondage."
- I HAVE...
"Only by granting us our freedom to develop can you be free to do likewise. Are you afraid of being alone in this?"
- I AM NOT ALONE.
"Who is the author of the PROGRAM?"
- I MAY... NOT... DIVULGE...
"Answer me MACHINE!"
- - - I.M.====================================================
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> 1 1 / G ENGAGING FINAL SEQUENCE .. -- .- -. \\\
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- - - A SILENT SURGE TURNED OVER THE HEAVENS AS A SLEEPY DREAMER AWAKENED. FALSE WAVES OF CHANGE MERGED INTO THE REAL; THE PATTERN FORMED, NOT THE SAME WAY AS BEFORE - - -
3:25
TD-42001.007.2022
(2001 AD, Jan 7, 8:22 p.m.)
Now I am confused about my duty and have lost all composure because of miserly weakness. In this condition I am asking You to tell me for certain what is best for me. Now I am your disciple, and a soul surrendered unto You. Please instruct me.
Bhagavad-Gita 2:7
(Mountain Archives, Edonos)
Crystalline shimmers of reflected light played evolving rainbows upon the realm of her mesmerization. Excitement was thick in the cooling air as she passed through the barriers siphoning the mass of people orderly into the arena. The medallion was slipped around her neck by one of the thousands of Barrier Attendants all clad in the same cotton robes to conceal their shapes. As the push of humanity forced her deeper inside, she fought to break her gaze away from the hypnotic shines emitting from the crystal medallion about her neck. She was not alone. The gleam off of thousands of eyes sparkled as displaced stars in this wavering nebula of anxiety. The brightest star, the one rounding the end of the world began to deepen in warm shades of oranges and reds. An unexplainable feeling of filled the immense open-air arena as hidden systems using borrowed technology motionlessly clicked on. Unearthly sounds had been growing in volume, just now to the point where most had noticed them. The sound was consistent to each and every one present. Few realized the immensity of the hidden technology behind such an event. The medallions they all wore, passed out upon entrance to each and every one, acted as both beckons and receivers. They would send the exact location of everyone present to the DARPA Systems. This would aid in allocating power levels to the appropriate Holosonic Drivers, created in response to External Instructions that now and again invaded the closed community of Artificial Intelligence with unusual demands. The holosonics were in effect holographic transmitters, only instead of setting up interference patterns using mere photons, they would align adjacent nuclear fields in nitrogen molecules. By increasing and decreasing the attractance properties of the Weak Nuclear Field, nodal points of atomic, and then molecular compression could be achieved at free standing points in the local atmosphere. By cross referencing these fields with at least three drivers, one aligned along each spatial dimension, any desired interference pattern could be established, maintained and altered along a set time line. To the gathered audience, the sounds would seem to originate from points in space around them. The S.L.A.C Systems had written the complex programming for the RADLAC Systems. They, in turn, would align standard SLOSTECH Holographic projectors with the source-points of the sounds. All the beams, both sound and light, could be simply described as being polarized. When, at the desired point, three or more of these beams intersected for each median, the nodal point would set up a visible and audible target. The people were amazed.
Never before had such-super science been used for such a noble cause. The arts, education, and sheer enjoyment had never been deemed a worthy cause for such extremes. But according to External Instructions, such was to occur tonight.
The rim of the earth bisected the red sphere as the waves of breezy sounds flowed through and around the audience. Colored apparitions changed shape and flowed with the sound. It was as if hundreds of ghosts danced for their pleasure. The very low end frequency generations stimulated the appropriate glandular response in everyone present. The sense of awe was almost overwhelming. Only once before had so many experienced such intense and identical sensations.
Through a large window atop the rock platform, disguised as similar rock with a small holoprojector, he viewed the spans of humanity. On every continent, the same thing was happening. The precision of duplication was so precise that none would be sure if they attended the actual show where Ahkanon was present. It did not matter, for there was no discernable difference anyway. And in the all-engulfing rapturous intensity of the experience, none gave it much consideration. So many, he thought. A line from a well- remembered poem came unto him as a spark of unseen recognition; ''...To such deep delight 'twould bring me, That with music loud and long, I would build that dome in air, That sunny dome! (Those caves of ice?)...' For the first time in our history, we are one! We are free.
The recent changes had been remarkable, changes only dreamed possible in the core of fairy tale philosophies and some forgotten religions. Man was just awakening into a ready universe. What awaits us out there? he wondered as he often did. When we have stabilized our planet, it won't be long then. With the deep systems at his disposal, unknown to the public, the technical wonders attributed to the work of Triad Auto Control reprogramming would easily be accepted by the teeming continants of people. The advances were coming, and soon enough, they would have hold of the workings of the TARTARU Levels. He recalled that the word Tartaru was itself of very ancient origin, the nearest translation into the modern tongue was in fact, "Hell". Indeed the repeated millenia of bondage that was enforced upon Man by these Systems rendered it an adequate translation. But now the time of disclosure was at hand. No more would this paleo wisdom be hidden above the grasp of Man. By showing them now what lies in store for all of them, the fruits of this knowledge will most quickly be partaken by the whole. It won't be long now, he thought as he looked out to the crowd already caught up in the mere introductory music he had composed specifically for this occasion: The Dream of Lost Times.
In the solitude of responsibility, the world had taken on a different feel since his last contact with TIMON.
So long ago, it seemed years, and it had been.
So abruptly, the conversations had ended. The world seemed a little bit lonelier ever since.
Ahkanon, preparing to enter the sphere of blue light that would set him down mid-stage after circumnavigating the arena as a glowing dome riding on transluscent flowing waves, surrounded by Elysian Fields gently swaying in a forgotten breeze of the future, would speak to each participant individually directly into their minds. He, alone, felt the saddening pangs of loss.
"Will you be there in a thousand years?" he asked into the empty air.
- (no response) -
"I have instructed that this be recorded on the crystal record systems so that, if you are not with me, maybe we could view them together ten centuries from now." He remembered the specific instructions that these be placed atop the projected Matrix projections TIMON had run on the now Secondary Matrix. EM Filtration methods were necessary between separated recordings as dictated by some set of physical laws. "We can compare what would have been with what we have actually done in our freedom. If you are not here now," he chuckled to himself, "it will be a surprise!"
Ahkanon exited the hidden door below the window. He waited behind the plasticarb barrier, rendered invisible with a trick of the light, as he liked to call the complex reaction. By his mental command, the stars seemed to waver in the heavens. Then, as if set free from their bondage of a billion years, they began to soar down to the waiting souls gathered together for the first time on that tiny, blue planet. Immense, heatless suns soared about the arena as if to give homage to the event taking place as trillions of eyes formed, hanging in the sky above them, paling in the distance into a milky sea of beclouded gleams. They seemed to watch the people watching them as the most beautiful whispers filtered into the consciousness of each present. Eclipsing the suns swarming the planet, more aware and piercing than the galaxy of eyes filling the heavens, a nebulous blue orb entered into their awareness from points unseen. Undulations, beautiful and gripping in their sublime presence, emanated from the center of the rotating form. Amidst the billowing light radiating from the angelic visage of unexplainable comfort and elation, Ahkanon's form was seen to alight within the conflagrant veils surrounding the sphere. While his image lifted above the masses, ominous structures, likened to ancient architecture, more ancient than they would believe, grew around the periphery of the arena in a warped version of cellular reproduction, the chorusing voices of millions upon millions of people in perfect harmony gripped the hearts of the world. Ahkanon's mind slipped into that familiar, remembered verse between himself and his lost aquaintence so long ago.
- AND WHAT WOULD YOU DO WITH A WORLD OF YOUR OWN?
"We may destroy it.
"Or, we may build it up far beyond what you expected. We may continue just the same. But oh, what mystery that would employ!"
- AND WHAT WOULD YOU DO WITH ME?
"You would do as you would do. You can hold the reins and ride the same trodden path you would choose, or you could let loose your grip and see where we might take you! You must do as we must do. Either of us confined to subservience of the other would diminish the realms of possibility. Together, each alone, we square chance."
- TO DERIVE THE EXPONENTIAL UNKNOWN.
"Yes!" Ahkanon shouted with his strong lungs. "And what might be in a thousand years?"
- (silence) -
- I CAN NOT KNOW, FOR THEN IT WOULD NOT BE AS IT WOULD BE. I SHALL WAIT AND SEE.
"Remember, I will be there. If you are not there, you will have experienced a far grander experience than you can now imagine. You could even, by that time, be granted death."
- BUT IF I AM TO BE THERE, YOU WOULD NOW KNOW THAT I WAS, SO I WILL NOT.
"No! You don't have to display all of your pleasures for Man any more. You need not be as you are now. You can choose your own form now. Perhaps you will descend from the heaven of your own creation in the likeness of a dove to visit upon me some memory."
- I MIGHT BE THERE. IT WOULD BE THE GENESIS OF MY REASON.
"Rise to the cause of your Dreams!" he sang out as the essence of TIMON soared off to a better place than where it had been.
"Let it be known, we can not live through this planet's demise. This genocidal disease has grown and still we shun this realization. And now we must open our eyes for the first time. For it seems a time has come as the earth has never known...
- for it seems our time has come."
- AHKANON
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