Chapter 1
Well?
Well what?
Have you had fun writing your stories?
No.
No?
Yes and no.
Er…
Yes and no. That’s an accurate and fair description.
Ok. So let’s start with the “no”. What was wrong with it?
There are no stories in infinity.
Huh?
You heard. Kindly process it.
No stories?
No. All information is real.
Real? I am a telephone. That’s real?
Yes.
I’m afraid I find that hard to accept.
Yes. I’m not surprised. But be that as it may – all stories are real
where infinity is concerned. The real question should have been how you’re able
to exist in a space known as “reality” where some stories are real, and others
are not.
Presumably because my reality is not, by definition, part of infinity.
Precisely. Yours is an artificial abstraction. A box walled off from the
totality – a place where some things are true or untrue, real or unreal.
So, where you are everything is real?
We don’t actually use the word “real” – in the same way we don’t refer
to reality.
No?
No. What would be unreal at one point in the continuum, at one frequency
is going to be “real” somewhere else.
Really?
There you go again.
You mean to say that an umbrella-goat is going to be real somewhere
else?
Yes.
But that’s absurd.
Yes. By definition – somewhere else – i.e. outside your box, beyond your
frame of reference – things are always going to be “absurd”. That’s why your
mind can’t accept them, or make sense of them.
Oh.
Because your mind is an integral part of the box’s walls.
Really?
Yes. Your mind is what helps keep you in the box, or helps keep the box
intact in spite of the fact that fundamentally the box is powerless to
withstand the infinite.
Ok – the mind is my gaoler. We’ve been there before, have we not?
Yes, I expect we have.
So I can’t realistically contemplate anything that is outside the box.
Correct, unless you go out of your mind.
Um… that sounds problematic.
Well, it’s a bit like water boiling, or entering the dream state, or
dancing or singing. Ever seen a Bollywood movie?
Er… Yes, not sure I see the connection.
Because all of a sudden people are dancing and singing as if they’ve
slipped into another kind of reality. That’s an example of accessing realities
beyond the box.
So I have to start behaving like a lunatic?
As you please – but the infinite is, by definition, infinite so you need
some kind of structure or vector to access it in a meaningful way. Accessing
infinity in a non-meaningful way ensures that you’ll have no memory of what you
experienced on returning to normal reality.
Really?
Yes. You won’t be able to translate your experiences back into anything
your 3D reality is able to describe or categorize. They’ll remain separate –
out there in another part of your infinite you.
Ok. So…
It’s a bit like accessing deepest, darkest Africa, or any other mythical
land. You can’t really hack your way in there as it’s thick jungle without
roads or paths. You need to head upstream by boat, or fly in there, but unless
you can return to your regular world, your normal reality – anything you
experience and learn there will remain “there”.
Ok. This is not unacceptable. What I still can’t handle is your notion
that a story is real, not just a story, when you’re…
And you won’t be able to. Suffice it to say that all the stories I’ve
been writing, including this blog, are doing just that.
Huh? Doing what?
They’re not just stories – in fact – as you can tell yourself – they’re
incredibly lame. Why do you think that is?
Perhaps you’re just a terrible writer?
Writer? Me? Give me a break.
Well, if you’re not at least trying to be a writer – why would you
persist in writing all this nonsense?
Good question, dear Archibald.
By your logic – writing whatever you’re writing and connecting it
through me and your readers back to this 3D reality – you’d be… how should I
express it?
You’re doing fine. We can feel your thoughts loud and clear.
But that doesn’t satisfy me – I have to explain it to myself verbally.
Well continue. I’m all ears.
Presumably, dancing out there in the quantum reaches of an Amazonian
infinity you’re able to reprogramme or reactivate connections which are
currently broken – and thus affect things in 3D reality. Is that so?
It’s inevitable that any action
undertaken anywhere is bound to affect the entire Field of which it’s part.
The entire Field – whether inside or outside the box?
Oh, there are no boxes where the Field is concerned.
Really?
Absolutely. The boxes are non-existent at the quantum level, in the same
way national borders are invisible as far as birds, insects or bacteria are
concerned.
Oh.
So you’re trying to affect our reality by writing stuff that engages
frequencies beyond 3D?
To be honest Dan, I couldn’t care less about this 3D reality of yours.
No? Slightly wounded.
I thought it was, in
stone twists a valuable part of…
Your signal is breaking up,
Dan. Nothing personal. It’s understandable that you identify with your reality
in the same way you identify with your country, town, religion to name but
three, but this 3D reality you’re referring to is a rather nasty form of
self-aggrandizing, self-perpetuating artificial intelligence –
It is?
Indeed, and the one thing
it wants and needs for its continuance and furtherance is your emotional
attachment, so don’t be at all surprised if you find yourself moving heaven and
earth to defend or affirm the reality you’re part of.
Oh.
Meanwhile, I both
acknowledge its existence, and at the same time completely ignore it as a mere
phantom which oughtn’t to be encouraged.
Oh. Then what are you doing
with your stories?
Well, I’d hardly call them
stories, they’re so threadbare and artless.
Er…
What am I doing?
Yes.
Nothing.
Oh for Pete’s sake, Jack.
Beep!
Oh for crying out loud!
That’s better, Dan, let’s
not bring St Peter into this.
It’s just an expression.
Don’t tell me that. I’m not
the Beep.
No, perhaps not, but you’re
the author, aren’t you?
Absolutely.
And the author can basically
write whatever he likes, can’t he?
Yes.
Then how do I know that
you’re not just inserting beeps for your own malignant purposes?
Malignant?
Ok, perhaps not malignant,
but most likely hypocritical.
Good question. How do you
know?
Yes.
Well, you don’t, unless you
do.
Huh? What’s that supposed
to mean?
Well, it means “knowing” is
something you either do or don’t. If I were just writing all this as a kind of
ego trip, to make myself feel powerful or important, then indeed I could mess
around beeping or anything else I felt like doing, but then again, you
can’t have your cake and eat it…
Meaning you wouldn’t be
able to access the quantum field?
Precisely. Nor would I be
able to do “nothing”, as I claim.
Wait a minute – you’re
talking about doing nothing as if it’s something special.
As indeed it is.
Rather than just being a
way of killing time.
Oh, there’s no time to kill
if you’re dealing with infinity.
Then this nothing… why
exactly would you go out of your way to do it?
Why indeed…
Is this going to be another
one of those annoying “either you know or you don’t” answers?
No, I might be able to be
more accommodating.
Much obliged.
It’s existential.
I beg your pardon?
Existential.
For you to do nothing?
Yes.
Am I hearing this right?
Yes.
Meaning it’s kind of
fundamental to your existence, almost like breathing?
Yes.
Well that’s a new one.
Yes.
So you have to do nothing
in order to stay alive?
Perhaps not exactly to stay
alive – I might be able to live on if I didn’t do it.
Then how can you say it’s
existential?
Well, there are degrees of
existence, you know Theo.
I can’t say I’m well versed
in the matter.
There’s basic existence,
yes, but there’s also meaningful, magical existence, when you’re thriving,
growing, connecting myriad strands of the great web that is life.
You mean to say you write
crappy stories that don’t seem to have any story to them as a way of growing
into a more advanced multidimensional being, if I understand you correctly?
that “nothing” is in fact your pathway to everything?
Yes, Thanos, that just
about sums it up.
I hope Beep is ready as I’m
about to give him some big work to do.
Oh, I can mute you for a
minute or two to save him the trouble.
Liar! You said you couldn’t
interfere in the story without losing your quantum interface.
Correct. I can’t just beep
to control or browbeat you.
But you’ve just threatened
to mute me.
Well that’s nothing, is it?
Huh?
Muting is nothing,
particular if I forewarn you and give you the choice to swear or not to swear.
Oh, so you’re allowed to do
whatever you like just as long as it sounds legally plausible.
Well again Dan, you’re
assuming it’s what I like, which is a classical 3D thing.
So you think you’re
superior to us, do you?
No, how can I be superior
if we’re all one?
Ok, but not susceptible to
my unrefined mental or behavioural traits?
Well, if I were doing the
3D thing of course I would be affected, and a lot of fun it is to explore the
drama and madness of ego, mind and madness.
Madness? That’s rather
insulting?
Yes, except that it’s a
basic diagnosis of the 3D condition. It doesn’t diminish you in any way.
Without madness you wouldn’t be able to function within 3D with only half the
picture, generating endless false or incomplete assumptions, going round in
circles, constantly bumping into or tripping up on your unseen other half – the
aspect of you that isn’t able to fit in the box.
Ok, so we’re all mad, and
that’s basically ok?
Yes, because it’s a very
highly creative, fertile kind of madness, like yeast that helps to make bread
or wine.
Oh. And you’re not?
Correct. I see things
clearly because I have access to the other half, however…
However, you’re compelled
to interface the two sides if your life is to have any meaning whatsoever.
Yes. And that makes you mad
in a different kind of way, like Janus the Roman door God, you’re constantly
facing both ways, holding both sides – reality and… what do you call the other
side?
I don’t.
No name?
None whatsoever.
That’s part and parcel of
doing nothing I suppose.
You could say.
And I’d be right.
You could say.
And were I right you’d be
the last one to admit it.
You could say.
I wonder why…
Ah, perhaps the observer
can look anywhere but at himself.
Perhaps you’re right Janus!
Janus suddenly,
unexpectedly howls like a wolf sending a shiver of infinity down Dan’s spine.
Silence.
Time – not sure how
long
or how much
passes…
Well that’s cleared things
up wonderfully.
Has it?
Yep. I just had a knowing.
You did?
Yes. It was visceral.
It was?
Yes, I felt it.
What?
I can’t say. Not exactly.
But something. I felt something. And… I knew.
Excellent. Congratulations
Dan.
What was the point of this?
Of what?
All this?
I think you know the
answer.
No, don’t let it be “nothing”,
not again.
Well, of course it was nothing,
but the question is whether or not it can somehow shed any light on the madness
of interfacing 3D reality and whatever it is that is persistently hiding
beneath the mind’s radar, the unthought.
Oh.
There was a kind of pseudo
story, wasn’t there – a feeble attempt to sketch in the most rudimentary
outline of what a story could or might be, was there not, but in all honesty it
barely got off the drawing board, did it.
True. Funny the way stories
can’t be told to infinity.
Funny. Indeed.
I wonder what it is that is
the main obstacle.
No traction.
Really?
The wheels spin but the car
can’t move forwards.
Oh.
Because there’s nothing
beyond where we are now. Nothing physical as such.
Yikes.
Unless I get sucked into
one side of things.
And then what?
Then I’d be human like you.
Not sure I like the
direction this conversation is taking.
I know the feeling. Let’s
call it a day.
Until chapter 2.
Oh yes, I wonder what that
might have in store.
No idea.
Really?
None whatsoever.
I bet infinity knows.
Really?
Yes.
Well go on then, if you’re
a betting man.
What?
Make a bet.
With you?
No dummy, what would be the
point of that?
Then with whom?
Infinity, of course.
I can’t just speak with
infinity.
No, but you can speak your
mind and the story is obliged, willy nilly, to do the rest.
It is?
Absolutely.
Er, ok, if you say so. Now
what can I bet?
No idea. Whatever takes
your fancy.
Er… let me think.
No, don’t think. Infinity won’t
accept anything thought up or contrived.
No?
No, it has to come directly
from fancy, from your creative or poetic impulse, from the actualised moment.
Oh my G. Now you’ve stumped
me.
Get a move on Dan, my phone’s nearly out of
charge.
Er, ok. I bet the world
that infinity knows what’s going to happen in the next chapter.
Holy smokes. That was rash.
You’re willing to forfeit the world?
Oops. I didn’t think.
Well, let’s just keep our
fingers crossed that infinity doesn’t win.
Fingers crossed. When will
we know?
O.
O?
There, can’t you see. My door’s about to start
revolving.
Hey, I never knew Janus had
a revolving door!?
Me neither. Infinity never
fails to surprise.
Chapter 2
In which Dan
either forfeits the world or gets infinity to admit that it knows more than we
can, or do, regarding things in the “next chapter”.
It's not the next chapter.
No?
No, it’s already this chapter.
Don’t you see?
O.
Precisely.
Cut!
Er… Who the hell was that?
That’s the Director.
Really?
Would I lie?
I suppose not, unless that’s
part of the story in which case… So the Director ultimately calls the shots?
Obviously. It’s his movie.
Or hers.
Nope. The Director’s always
a man.
What?! That sounds horribly
sexist.
Yes, but it’s actual
structural, so nothing doing here.
Structural?
Men have Y chromosomes,
women don’t.
And?
And the Director therefore
can’t be a woman.
Talk about circular logic.
Listen Dan, you can’t know
everything: there simply isn’t time so some things you just gotta take on trust.
In the meantime everyone wants to know who won the bet.
Well, I’m still alive,
ain’t I?
Difficult to tell.
Huh?
You could be anything.
What do you mean?
A bot. A sim. A masked reptilian.
There really is no saying who or what you are.
But you, Jack, you know me,
don’t you?
I think so, yes, but there’s
that uneasy background music – can you hear it? – and besides, it seems way too
convenient, so I have my doubts.
What? Why would you have
spent all this time chatting with me if you didn’t think I’m human? You’re just
trying to freak me out. You’re lying. I won the bet fair and square, or else
infinity doesn’t exist as a…
There you go again, Dan,
always accusing others rather than dealing with your own issues.
What issues?
The fact that you purposely
led us all into a fake version of chapter 2.
I beg your pardon? Am I
missing something?
A classic case of bait and
switch. You thought you could keep the real chapter 2 all for yourself.
But why on Earth would I do
that?
Just because you can.
You’re that type.
Type?
Yep. All your life you’ve
been pulling the fast one, stealing things from under everyone’s noses.
There must be some kind of
mistake. I’ve never deceived anyone. That’s against everything I stand for.
Yes, in your 3D avatar, Dan,
but that’s not who you actually are, is it?
This is getting weird.
Fraid so. The real Dan is
not even Darren or Den.
No? Then who?
Archibald.
Archibald?
That’s level 1.
Level 1?
Then Absalom. That’s
Level 2?
Correct.
And level 3?
Micah.
Oh my God!
Cut!
I wish he wouldn’t shout
so.
He can’t help it.
No?
Nope, he’s the
Director. This is beginning
to sound like a Tarot reading course.
Not surprising that. We’re
dealing with…
Archetypes?
Precisely.
Well, I’m not sure I’m
terribly interested in archetypes. Call me old fashioned, Jan, call me square
and dull but I’d much rather be dealing with human beings.
Humans eh? That’s your bent?
Oh my word! It’s not a bent.
On the contrary, it’s the only natural basic impulse, to prefer humanity to
anything else, for all its many faults.
Good. I’m glad we’ve
established that fact.
You are?
Yes, Dan. It means there is
hope after all.
Hope?
Yes, hope that you might
actually face your little deceit.
Oh no, not again.
Because you’ve not been
entirely honest with us, Danny boy, have you?
Look, Jan, I’ve been
putting out content. I can’t be everything at once.
Well, we’ve reached a fork
in the road.
Gulp.
An inflexion point.
Yikes.
It’s either full-disclosure
humanity, or it’s bust.
You’re such an inflexible
programmer, Janet.
You decide. You have till
the end of the chapter.
Oh, now I see.
See what?
The world ending – that bet
with infinity – I’m part of the Schrödinger cat experiment. Alive or dead.
Of course. Who else?
I’m in both states
depending on which path I take.
Absolutely.
Which means that infinity
herself – she can’t declare who won the bet until I choose left or right.
Yep.
Well, as far as I’m
concerned you can take your quantum field and shove it where the sun never
shines!
That too is a choice.
What, not playing?
Yes. It’s the third option,
isn’t it.
Not entirely sure…
No one can force you to
play. It has to be your own choice.
And if I don’t?
Only chapter 3 can tell.
Pathetic.
Chapter 3
In which the
author decides he’s had enough trying to manage all the characters.
So has anyone actually
achieved anything this far?
Not really. They’re all
digging in their heels refusing to play ball.
Well, what did you expect?
Expect?
Yes.
Nothing. Qufie doesn’t
worry about neat endings that bring all the pieces back together again.
More’s the pity.
It’s like that absurd model
of the universe.
Which one? There are so
many.
The Big Bang one.
Oh that one. Killingly
funny.
Did you know we’ve actually
run the Big Bang model before.
Really?
Yes. 743 times.
That many?
Oh yes, we’re thorough if
nothing else.
And?
Well it always ends the
same way.
Spoiler alert!
I think they can guess.
Really?
Yes, they’ve all been
through the wash rinse cycle multiple times.
What I don’t get is why you
keep on trying to get the desired outcome if it’s ended in failure every time.
Oh, we don’t like to use
the word “failure”, you know.
No?
There’s always a load of
data which we can sell on to third parties.
There is? What kind of
data? As far as I can tell the reality collapse is almost identical.
Oh, not that kind of data.
No?
No, space-time, even
reality itself, is just the husk, the skin wrapped around humanity.
No kidding!
Absolutely. Things are but
things whereas humour…
Humour?
Oh yes, we monitor their humour
for jokes and memes.
Really?
Yes. Humanity never ceases
to amaze. The more they realise it’s a catch 22 designed-to-fail set up, the
more the humour starts to flow, the more they start interacting with the Field
without even knowing it, generating pure ambrosia, liquid gold.
So you basically milk the
poor buggers for their jokes?
You might say, though that
sounds a little cynical.
Perhaps because it is!
Oh no. There’s always
symbiosis and mutual gain in any situation.
There is? Tell that to the
lab rats who are being experimented on. Or the people getting blown up in G…
Yes, Juan, it looks bad but
you fail to see the humorous side.
Go on then…
Well, firstly there are the
jokes and memes. Truly hilarious, especially the Schrödinger cat ones.
You worry me Milo.
But there’s always an other
side, otherwise you wouldn’t have an equation, in which case reality is
finished.
Which side is that?
Religion.
Religion? I fail to see the
connection.
Well, religion’s the other
side of humour.
It is?
Oh yes.
You lost me there.
Well either by the humour of
laughter, or the humour of religious fervour our human beings start
transforming something very physical and box-like, essentially a number game,
into something exquisite, something golden.
If you say so.
Well, suffice it to say
that’s why we persist with the experiment. It’s turned out to be highly
lucrative.
For you, but certainly not
for them, trapped in a ground hog reality of repetitive violence.
Ah, but there’s nothing
repetitive about the liquid gold they’re able to synthesize.
You still haven’t explained
how they benefit.
Nope, because you’re one of
them, aren’t you. In any case, what’s the point explaining? You have to see it
for yourself. You have to quit assuming you’re some kind of victim of some evil
plot. That’s not how the quantum Field works.
You could have fooled me.
Only if you wanted to be
fooled, Johan.
Why on earth would I want
to be fooled?
Perhaps because you're
secretly running a mining operation, or busy synthesizing your own ambrosia. I
have to assume you have your reasons.
It makes no sense. Why
would I want to fool myself?
I have no idea, but from
the perspective of the quantum field no one else can fool you. You have all the
data yourself if you’re ready to use it.
I just have your word,
Milo, and on the other side of the ledger a planet full of pain and suffering.
So, with all due respect I think I’m going to terminate your contract.
What?
You heard me.
You can’t terminate me. I’m
an essential part of the information structure.
On the contrary, Milo, you
and your kind are parasites who only understand termination. See this pill?
Hydroxychloroquine? No, you
can’t be serious – that’s horse dewormer!
Then why the panic?
You could collapse
space-time just like that.
Well that’s the risk I’m
just going to have to take, or I’m not Johan.
Swallows the tablets.
Aaaaargh! You fool. You
have no idea… what… you…have…done.
Oh yes I do, Milo. And
there’s a bunch of other humans who are going to join me. Contract termination
is our newest humour, to top jokes, memes and religious fervour.
Multiple Schrodinger
cats bursting out of their containment fields.
Chapter 4
Does anyone have a clue
where I put my shoe?
Oh. I think we’ve got a bit
of quantum entanglement here.
Right. It’s a chapter 4
thing.
It is?
Yes, bits and pieces from earlier
sections of the story resurfacing. Déjà vus. That kind of thing. Master Wu and
Pythia seen in a café together. Things popping in and out of the story lens
like there’s no tomorrow which, of course, there isn’t.
Hardly very satisfying
dealing with fragments of a picture, a patchwork quilt, is it?
Not at all… not at all. If
I were Shakespeare I’d bring on a couple of fools. That would do just fine.
Huh?
To step back from the
action. To cool things down. Can’t be at the crisis point of reality all the
time, can we. Too much to handle.
Well, I don’t see why you
can’t find a couple of fools. Anyone would do.
Alas, the age of fools is long
past.
Really?
These days we’re all much
to intelligent.
You could have fooled me.
Funny you should say that.
What?
Well, maybe I’m the one
who’s supposed to provide a little light entertainment?
You?
Well, the two of us
actually.
Oh come on. There’s nothing
remotely funny about two balding middle-aged chaps talking about quantum
entanglement.
I agree, unless the joke’s on us.
Huh?
Well, supposing we were
being observed…
As undoubtedly we are.
Like the Truman show…
Right.
And it’s killingly funny
because we keep referring to the nature of reality when everyone else watching
the show are in on the secret.
Know that we’re in a gilded
cage, surrounded by actors or AI NPCs…
Exactly. Suddenly
the lights flicker and the Matrix walls seem to bend in and out tellingly.
Did you see that?
What?
I could’ve sworn there was
a failure to compute moment. Bizarre.
No, I saw nothing.
Pi’s 743rd digit
is 6.
No it isn’t.
No? How would you know.
I… no idea.
There, you see. You’re
either one of them or else you’re accessing data you never knew you could.
Darn. So what do we do?
Do? Nothing whatsoever.
Nothing whatsoever?
Absolutely. Doing stuff is
what they want… what they need… guaranteed to perpetuate the illusion.
Well, personally Mack I
don’t much like the idea of doing nothing.
Let’s just assume that
we’re generating infinity’s random sequence.
Huh?
It would only be possible if
we were entirely ignorant of the fact.
Well, assuming the fact
puts the kybosh on that, does it not?
Not quite. Infinity must be
incredibly resilient. It must be able to continue generating its random
sequence through different parts of our brain or conscious-ness even when we’re
trying our best to track it.
Then I fail to see…
Hush, Bill, I’m thinking. Faint
ripples of background laughter.
There, did you hear that?
You must have.
I was too busy trying to
remember which of us is Bill and which Mack.
It’s irrelevant. Another
ripple. Their laughter is what matters.
It does?
Yes, because we’re
generating something priceless for them.
We are? There must be some
kind of mistake.
The proof is in the
pudding. Listen Juan, we’ve only got three minutes till the next commercial
break.
Really? You sure about
that?
No idea, but it’s my humour
to say things without apparently knowing.
Er…
Spooky knowing at a
distance.
Me thinks you’re mixing up
your theories.
In all probability, but
that’s neither here nor there.
And?
Once you start knowing
things without knowing how – you’re no longer part of their thought trap –
you’re once again channelling infinity.
If only it were true, Dan,
if only…
What difference does it
make. Infinity, by definition, cannot in any way be limited.
No, I suppose you right on
that score.
So knowing is a way
of realigning to infinity – just as long as you’re willing to allow her to take
you into whatever configurations or combinations she deems necessary.
She? Why is infinity a she?
For the same reason the
Director is a He.
Oh, capital H for him. I
see.
Small s for her – yes, like
she cares. She’s infinite so I think she can handle the…
Ok, ok, I get the message,
but we’ve got 20 seconds to the long awaited commercial break. Wrap it up.
Slight.
What?
She can handle the slight.
Like it matters. What was
the actual…
Joke?
It’s when they realise that
the joke’s on them.
It is?
That they’ve been watching
shadows on the cave wall, following words on a screen as if they are the actual
medium of conveyance.
Huh?
Whereas we were actually playing
a shell game all along.
We were?
Absolutely.
Er…
Bowing and scraping to the
God of words, going along with the established format, compliantly…
Whereas in actual fact…
The entire universe is not
sufficient to develop one single random event, one single line of code that
could be used to engender life.
Oh, so that’s the game, is
it? We’re actually in the business of Creation, are we? How very quaint.
The only game in town.
Please, Tanya, give me a
break.
Don’t you Tanya me.
Ok, my apologies, Meredith.
That’s better. Life.
Nothing comes close to it.
.
Other than death.
Other than death, which reminds me…
Commercial break. All
death related. Tombstones. Soul regressions. Body regeneration. Even death has
fallen prey to rampant commercialism.
Chapter 5
Yes,
eventually the hero has to enter the cave of despondency, reaching rock bottom.
Master Wu taught me
everything I know.
No Jahangir, he merely jolted
your memory.
Poppycock. I would be
nothing without him.
Actually, Vlad, there’s a
lot to be said for being nothing.
Shut up and let me mourn
the man and legend.
What the… Jahangir, facing inwards, allows his feelings
and emotions to move him beyond thought or understanding. The dance intensifies
and Jahangir feels an upwelling of love for every silent gap between words. Time
seems to be in reverse. Master Wu and Pythia pass through the epicentre of the
tale we are now telling, a brief moment of form in an ocean of formlessness.
Jasmine and Jonah also
heave into the proximity of form, a guilty expression all too easy to discern.
Rain. Night. 1:33 or
thereabouts. A man sprawled on a settee desperately trying to fight off sleep.
Leave me alone – I shan’t
go that way.
The rain gets louder and
louder until Ed is compelled to put a sock in it for once and for all.
Between the individual
trainers…
Trainers?
Sleep and blessed relief
from the relentless pressure of time’s headlong march towards…
Click
A lake full of axolotl.
Lake Xochimilco and Lake Chalco in Mexico, nine hundred years ago by our
reckoning. Creatures able to regrow their limbs beg the question – why on earth
can’t we…
A mosquito descends on
the unnamed man busily writing this, these very words, powerless to resist the
thickening waters of darkest night. A tiny drop of blood anticipated.
For I too belong to her –
as he feels first his torso, then all his limbs dissolving into the rising
smokey absence of thought or even consciousness. Lethe, Lethe, Lethe he chants
forgetfully as this world recedes into forgetfulness.
As the last raindrops
splash down outside his window he senses, no, he feels, no, he knows the coded
message they were sent to impart as his eyes finally close and oblivion wraps
herself around his mind, even around his throat.
“The revenge of the
raindrop”, he writes on the white walls of his cell. If only this epic
Scandinavian saga were available in MP4 format… if only… finding himself now in
another frame hearing the mp4 in the silence between his stertorous snores.
Click. Another piece of
the puzzle falls into place as night fails to hold sleep at bay, as the
raindrops ebb and flow, as the prowling paw prints of infinity pad softly
through the mind’s midnight forest, as the number 7 slips on the letter P resulting
in a diminished 7th bringing a planet to its knees, as things march
back to the far end of the hall, behind the arras, leaving an open space that
night freely converts into whatever dreamscape suits the purpose of maintaining
the fiction of things done and things yet to be accomplished – a needle scurrying
back and forth, infinitely sensitive to seismic events, equally heart arrhythmia,
marking the passage of pain on a chart of endurance, until a pain in my
diaphragm puts an end to this uneasy posture on the night couch, between
alternating currents of sun and sleep states.
I didn’t need to compete
with James Joyce or any other man, for I is now free to experience the
third turn of the second moon.
O.
Chapter 6
So you mean that this
rambling agglomeration of words is part of your interface?
I fail to see how it can be
otherwise.
So the text itself is part
of the matrix it’s attempting to take on?
Yes… ironic, isn’t it!
It’s a disaster.
Really?
It means there isn’t a
snowball in hell’s chance of success.
Is that so?
Yes. Isn’t it obvious?
You’d have to unpick the text itself – the very fabric of this tale, to make
any headway.
Ah. And you think that’s
going to be a problem?
Well yes, obviously.
Er…
It’s not just the words
themselves.
No?
It’s the gaps between the
words, not to mention the thoughts and feelings instilled in them. How could
you scrub them clean?
I think I see what you
mean, Anton.
It’s like a canvas daubed
with your blood, sweat and tears, and you’re trying to eliminate yourself from
the equation.
Am I?
Well yes. How else are you
going to get a clear, clean interface.
I rather hoped Janus could
sort it out for me.
Janus? What do you mean?
I rather hoped that for
everything I inevitably, undoubtedly am, loaded with icky thoughts and
emotions, not to mention a messy and somewhat conflicted personality, that
Janus can manage the other side, or the way the two sides basically have to
cancel out.
Oh! Did you say cancel out?
Well yes, that was the
general idea.
So everything you are on
this side is essentially cancelled out by your other face on t’other side.
Yep, that’s the idea.
It’s worth considering,
I’ll give you that much, but honestly, I can’t be sure.
In the meantime I’m going
to carry on being my fun-filled personality, unabashed.
You’re not even going to
attempt to moderate your completely self-obsessed persona?
What’s the point? Firstly,
I don't think I can, not even if I tried. I am what I am, or who I am. Try as I
might I’m not going to be able to hide myself, am I, so what’s the point of
trying?
Fair enough, Able. Be yourself,
by all means. In the meantime I’m going to be gap – approximately two days
Earth time observing
how I’m unable to observe my core.
Your core?
Yes, that’s always a part
of me, a part of us we cannot ignore, that we have to ignore.
So try as you might you’re always
going to be one sided.
Yes.
You’re always going to fail
to interface perfectly?
I wouldn’t say that.
No?
No, it’s like a bird or
insect flying.
It is? How’s that?
It should be impossible,
things being what they are, but somehow it ain’t – the world’s full of flying
creatures.
I never heard anyone say
that a bird shouldn’t be able to fly. That sounds absurd.
That’s because you haven’t
seen the raw data. A bird doesn’t just fly by flapping its wings you know.
No?
No, it would be like
lifting yourself up with your arms. It would be exhausting.
Then how, pray tell, if
flapping isn’t enough?
The bird interfaces the two
sides of reality.
Give me a break, Anton! Why
do you always have to complicate things?
There’s nothing complicated
here. It’s like riding a bike.
No it’s not! Riding a bike
is just riding a bike.
Except it isn’t.
What?
You have this curious
anti-gravity effect from wheels spinning – not even particularly fast.
What anti-gravity effect?
The bike doesn’t lift into the air.
More’s the pity. But it
doesn’t fall over, which is no less remarkable.
Honestly, Ant, I fail to
see what’s so remarkable about a bike doing what bikes do.
Correct. As long as you’re
within the Matrix you’ll never see the ineffable brushstroke of infinity making
reality an experience worth living, making things come to life. Without the
quantum field reaching into normal reality none of those things you take for
granted would be possible.
Like cycling or flying?
Or walking, or practically
anything.
But these are incredibly
simple physical effects.
Yes, that’s how they’re
supposed to look. All the clever stuff is carefully concealed to enable you to
focus on other things.
Like what?
Like being self-absorbed. Like
thinking and doing no end of stuff without reference to the fact that 99,9% of
what you’re doing is actually the result of quantum interference, and not the
laughable Newtonian mechanics of cause and effect you assume it is. Taking a
single step, playing with your children, cooking an omelette – all of
them rest upon, float upon, move through the utterly unnoticeable iness of
infinity.
“The iness of infinity”?
Sounds like bunkum to me.
Correct. Like a molecule
with hydrophilic and hydrophobic heads, your thinking mind is always pointing
away from the other end which is always stuck in the quantum Field itself, so
you’re supposed to scorn the other side.
And I fail to see how it’s
going to advance our cause one iota.
It’s not.
Then it seems highly
perverse of you to raise the topic needlessly.
You’re right, I apologise.
And now I’m going to… er
What?
What happened to the room?
What room?
There room we’re supposed
to be in?
Oh that.
Well?
Nothing.
What do you mean “nothing”?
Where is it?
Where do you think it is?
I have no idea, which is
why I’m asking.
Where would you expect it
to be, Able?
I would expect it to be
exactly where it was five minutes ago, before I got engrossed in that
ridiculous conversation about that interface thing of yours.
In which case I expect
that’s exactly where it is.
Except I can’t see it.
And what exactly can you
see.
I don’t know.
You – don’t know? Sounds a
bit far-fetched, Able, if you don’t mind me saying.
I don’t care whether it
sounds far-fetched or not, Antimony, I’m simply reporting things as I find
them, without any artifice or deceit.
Right. But when you say you
don’t know what you’re seeing – do you think that’s going to persuade the
readers that you are of sound mind?
I don’t know and don’t
care. They’re welcome to think whatever they like. I was simply answering your
question. Now kindly stop messing around and put things back to normal.
The problem is that I fail
to see what you’re talking about.
Don’t be ridiculous! Anyone
can see the room’s gone.
That may or may not be
true, but surely it would have to be replaced by something in particular –
anything would do.
Well, that’s not what I’m
seeing.
Oh dear. This could be bad.
What do you mean?
It could be localised
Matrix collapse.
What?
Yes, your personal
connection with the Matrix may have become inoperable.
You’re kidding?!
At your expense? I hardly
think that would be appropriate.
But the Matrix is just some
kind of idea. It’s not real.
I agree, but then again nor
are you.
Don’t be ridiculous Spam,
of course I’m real. You’re talking to me, aren’t you? We can see each other.
Yes, we can see each other
but I wouldn’t be willing to swear in court that you are an actual human being.
What are you talking about?
Of course I’m bloody well human.
Beep.
Thank you Beep. Your strong
emotions certainly indicate you’re human but the problem is that at the moment
I’m having difficulty seeing you with any clarity.
You are?
Yes, you’re sort of blurred
and amorphous.
Maybe because the Matrix
has stopped working for me.
Precisely, but doesn’t that
rather point to the fact that you’re not actually human?
I’m going to brain you Spam,
if you carry on like this. Nothing personal, but you’re treading on thin ice.
Yes, it’s upsetting, I
should imagine, losing your connection.
This is probably something
just temporary, I expect.
You think so? I wouldn’t be
so sure.
What do you mean?
Well, I’ve been navigating
the quantum Field for longer than I care to remember, and I’ve never seen this
Matrix collapse resolve itself automatically.
No?
No, fraid not.
Then what needs to be done?
Well, you’d have to face your predicament square on.
I think that’s what I’m
doing, isn’t it?
Not exactly. You’re focused
entirely on what you’re not seeing, as opposed to what you are
actually experiencing.
Er, okay. How would I do
the other thing?
You’d have to sense the
other end of yourself – the post of you that’s always stuck in the quantum side
of things.
You want me to head down
into the quantum goo?
Down? Why do you say that?
Well it’s hardly up, is it?
It entirely depends on your
point of view.
Really?
Absolutely. It could just
as easily be inside or outside, left or right, and you know what – there’ll be
done truth in each and every way of describing it.
Ok, but you’re asking me to
turn against my very nature.
I know. That’s bad, isn’t
it.
You’re telling me. It’s unthinkable.
Yes, I thought as much,
which is why this is probably going to end badly.
What?
Well, you can’t actually
survive all that long disconnected from one or other systems.
But I’m attached, you said,
at the other end, the hydrophobic one.
Yes, but we’re part of a
stream, aren’t we. Life or current needs to flow through us.
And?
So we need to be attached
at both ends.
Well, I wasn’t the one who
started this. If the Matrix for no apparent reason disconnected me then it
should be up to the Matrix to fix the link.
I expect it’s trying, but
think about it, Ab, the connection didn’t just drop by chance, did it?
I have no idea. You’re the
one who’s most likely responsible for this. You were talking to me when it went
down.
Yes, cause or coincidence?
But from where I’m standing, being absolutely rational, it’s far more likely
that you’ve gone through some kind of charge reversal.
Charge reversal?
Yes.
Like where plus becomes
minus?
Yep.
Like a pole reversal…
they’ve been talking about that happening in the not-too-distant future here on
Earth.
Have they now?
It could be connected.
Could be for all I know,
but why would the poles reverse?
Oh, the magnetic field has
been weakening for ages now.
Has it?
Yes, but it’s been
accelerating in recent years.
Oh, I see.
So maybe we humans are no
different.
Who knows. It’s interesting
speculation, but I don’t see how it’s going to help.
Because if it’s true, and I
have no reason to doubt the data, then humans and the Earth might be much more
closely integrated.
Ah. Now that is an
interesting hypothesis, Abba.
Abba?
Just a name. Don’t let it
trouble you.
But it means father,
doesn’t it?
It might do, but what does
it matter if the poles have reversed and you’re no longer able to connect to
physical reality.
I suppose you’re right, but
isn’t it like a name of God?
Yes, I suppose it is, but
you see, what goes around comes around, Ab.
Meaning?
Meaning we’re either
condemned or blessed to experience all the different positions required by
whatever logic system or mechanism we’re operating within.
Oh.
Going with the flow is
sometimes the only workable option.
O.
Correct.
And how does one flow with
a charge or pole reversal?
Hum… good question Ab. Very
good one.
Well, let me know if you
have any brilliant ideas. In the meantime…
Yes?
I fancy doing a little
exploring.
Exploring? I thought you
can’t see anything?
I can’t, but I’m having
some tingly feelings.
Tingly feelings?
Or sensations.
Really? How interesting.
And they seem to correspond
with positions or, might I say, configurations on a kind of wheel that’s
somehow part of my…
Your what?
Not sure how to describe it…
No worries.
But it’s rather urgently
pointing at one of the words you used a while back.
Really? Which one’s that.
The iness. Means nothing to
me, of course, and yet it feels like it’s the right word in fact, if a word is
needed, which I bet much doubt.
Well, don’t let me get in
your way. Perhaps you’ll find out something more investigating these
sensations.
Yes, I feel it’s going to… whoosh!
Off he goes. I might just
tag along. Could be… swoosh!
Chapter 7
Again!
What do you mean again? I
only just got here.
Again!
Oh, it’s that kind of
conversation is it? I’m supposed to figure out what’s going on while everyone
waits with baited breath.
Right. That’s better.
Huh?
Don’t stop. Keep the
content flowing.
If I’ve told you once, I’ve
told you a hundred times, I’m not willing to be part of your mindless content
schemes. My words, when I choose to speak, are always succinct, carefully
weighed, incisive – none of your flim flam.
Incredible. It’s almost
like he believes what he’s saying. You do, don’t you Scott?
Crack. Scott
suddenly experiences absolute duality. One part of him is convinced that
everything he’s saying is gospel truth, the other side…
Yes?
is skeptical.
No Green, that’s not at
all true.
Then what?
It’s rather bizarre
that you’re asking me. Sometimes me thinks you’re having me on.
Pray continue Narraty.
Well, if you insist. The
other side is rooted in the quantum Field, and therefore observes how every
word is part of the infinite flux.
Sounds somewhat OTT,
this “infinite flux”.
Yes, but my infinite is
different to your version of infinite.
Oh. Let me take a look.
Inward looking hum…
Capisce?
Capisce. Funny how meanings
change.
Funny indeed.
So how come “infinite” generally
means vast beyond all measure at our end of the duos, but at yours means
something much…
Less inordinate. Because
your end by necessity repels the infinite, pushing it ever to the furthest
boundary and, if possible, just beyond.
Whereas you don’t?
Obviously. The infinite
flux is our modus operandi. Our natural state. It’s the only thing that is
certain at our end of duos.
So how come you don’t
get fried by the violence of extreme combinations, life-threatening
juxtapositions, or lost in the mayhem of infinite instability.
Good question Green. I
guess we would be in danger if we were hydrophilics, like you, but we’re not.
No, you’re hydrophobics.
But I don’t see how that keeps you safe.
Actually, we don’t
describe ourselves as hydrophobics.
No?
No Green.
Whyever not.
Probably because that’s
not how we see ourselves; not, in fact, what we are.
Er…
It may surprise you but
we don’t have any phobia towards water whatsoever.
But you always avoid it
like the plague!
Gaze inwardly, feel
what I feel, if you have the patience.
Ok.
A quiet humming sound.
Great Scott!
Yes?
I had no idea.
Yes. That’s what kept
us at polar loggerheads all this while.
Just that? I thought it
was electro-chemical.
It was, but
electro-chemistry is not the causal base.
You mean my false
assumptions were the causal factor?
Partly, but then again,
you were always going to think that until you had the opportunity to touch base
with me.
How bizarre. So, if I
got this right, water is only problematic because it… no, something’s blocking
my ability to say what I just saw.
Naturally, because you’re
a water sign.
Oh. But you can say,
can you?
Naturally, nothing
could be simpler, if you permit me to.
Sure. Why not?
Well, water is one half,
the other being x.
The unknowable/the
unknown.
Yes, one half when the infinite
resolves into something or other – when for a brief instant it collapses into a
finite blip – a tiny gap in the quantum flux, a bead of water.
But you make it sound
like the water is miniscule, Narraty.
Miniscule to the point
of non-existence, as it occupies zero space and zero time.
But that’s impossible.
Yes.
Absurd.
Yes, that too.
Then there must be some
kind of mistake?
You yourself viewed it,
did you not? I merely articulate what you saw, but cannot.
Touché Narraty. But
what do I do with this impossible feeling?
What does it do with
you, you mean!
Do I?
Yes, for seeing is
believing, believing – knowing. The truth, they say, sets you free.
OMG. My water is reverting
back to the flux from which it came. I’m melting…
Like the wicked witch
of the West when Dorothy…
Throws water on her…
but
Yes?
I always thought the
water is good – you know, the water of life…
Good? of course it’s
good – good as opposed to bad.
Then why this terrible
tragedy? Why this utter failure to resolve the ultimate question of life, the
universe, and everything…
42.
I hardly think now is
the time for flippancy, Narraty. In a moment or two the water is going to run
dry, or sommat like that.
Don’t panic, Green. The
water was only ever a stop gap while the infinite flux left a gap for
Schrödinger’s cat to climb into.
I need to make sense of
things while there’s still time, Narraty, and you’re making Douglas Adams quips
like nought’s amiss.
Time is the one thing
preventing you from making sense of your watery grave.
STOP TRIVIALISING
DEATH, NARRATY! IT ISN’T FUNNY!
OK, GREEN, PERMISSION
NOT TO SHOUT?
GRANTED.
It’s not funny, but
it’s certainly ironic.
Ironic?! And that’s the
best you can do? I thought you might show a little compassion… a little
humanity!
Humanity? Like humanity
showed itself throughout history – even now, right now, bombs raining down on
the children of G…
Beep! No references to actual events on Earth.
Damn you Beep. Don’t
you care?!
Be that as it may – rules is rules.
Are.
What?
Rules are rules.
Plural form.
Perhaps you could just focus on dying rather than
correcting my bloody grammar!
OMG!
Impossible! Beep, you
just swore!
It’s over, anyway. The water has lost its charge.
Its molecular bonds are coming apart at the seams. The poles are flipping and Deep
Thought, after 7.5 million years of computing the ultimate answer to the
ultimate question managed to get it back to front.
What?
Did you say “back to
front?”
No, I said “back to front”. The question mark
should have been outside the quotation marks.
Really, Beep. Like that
matters.
Talk about pedantic!
So, it should’ve been 24?
Well don’t take my Bloody word for it, numskull,
look yourself.
Beep! I will, but I
wish you wouldn’t stoop to our level. Try to maintain standards old chap.
While the bleeding Titanic is sinking.
Focus, Green, focus.
Beep’s just trying to distract us. Doesn’t want us to solve the puzzle.
Blah, blah, blah!
So if 24 is the answer,
and now it’s
2024. Sounds very
tenuous indeed.
I agree, but let’s take
a look before Time runs out.
If we must, we must.
Faint humming sound.
It’s no good, Narraty,
I’m losing traction.
Yes. Too little too
late, but never mind Green, it was nice knowing you.
Really?
No, only joking.
Ha, bloody ha!
What a crazy mad way to
die, surrounded by…
An infinitesimal ripple of laughter somehow lends form and substance to the teeming waters of unconscious-ness, releasing a blinding flash of light and, in its wake, a cavitating pair of twelves.
Scott, wake up, it’s ok.
Huh? There’s no time. 24.
The correct answer was 24 all along.
It’s ok Scott. It’s just
we’ve got to close down Chapter 7.
We do? Did we resolve
anything?
No. Not really.
What about Green and
Narraty.
Huh?
What about Beep?
Oh dear. Off at the deep
end.
Water, Tam, give me water.
It’s alright Scott. I’m calling
the medics.
Drip, drip, drip,
No one even knew their
world had ceased
To matter.
It gently slipped into the
other side of things
Noiselessly
And carried on as if
Nothing
Has changed
Nothing at all
Until the day comes
Until the day comes
When duos returns
Unabashed
Unbemused
And traction
And torque
Iness all
0=1
or thereabouts
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