The Quantum Objective (17 page)

‘So who wrote the program? The twins and we are just visiting it to learn from our life experiences? And if that’s so, where is this simulation situated? Where are we from, the spirits doing the learning? What’s the benefit of coming here to learn if, in our spirit form, we already have access to complete love and knowledge. How does it help to go backwards? Back to not knowing?’
‘How can you learn if you think you already know?’ Galen spoke softly.
Perun nodded. ‘The spirits say that to learn, the first step is to acknowledge your ignorance. You will not create fire if you already have heat and light. You need darkness to inspire you. When you relearn, you open up the possibility of learning something new. Perhaps you will create a new kind of fire that never existed before. The aim of life is to grow in new ways. Like Galen says - to evolve.’
‘That’s really deep, dude. But why? What are we all evolving into?’ Mimi popped open a can of Coke. Perun shrugged.
‘There is no we.’ Galen rolled a pen along the table with his finger. ‘There is only one thing, one us. It’s why transformation works. There may be different layers, folds, colours, textures but only one fabric. I don’t know what the cloth is or wants to become, but I know we’re all part of it. It is a mistake to think we are separate. Our sameness is what allows me to transform you into a tree or a cloud of bees.’ He smiled.
The adults stared. Mimi swallowed her gulp and inched her chair away from him. Beth rubbed her lower back, pulled up a chair and rested her head on the table.
‘So if everything is one thing then that one thing would seem to be vibration. Matter, non-matter, dark matter, spirits - all is energy. It’s just conscious energy. Sentient. Self-aware electricity of some sort. Everything else is just a derivative of it.’ Beth closed her eyes, clearing her mind for some answers. Nothing.
A dull pain blossomed behind her eyes.
How am I supposed to figure out the form and meaning of life, the theory of everything? Maybe that’s not my job. Maybe I’m over-reaching myself. Maybe I just need to figure out the smaller problem. Wish I knew what the hell it was!
She reached for Mimi’s can of Coke and paused before it touched her lips.
‘We were talking about healing energy possibly coming through from another dimension or source. If that’s so, is there evidence of energy output that is greater than input? Perun, those flowers you brought to the hospital when we met. They lived in perfect health for many months. What did you do to them?’
‘I asked them to stay alive. The cells regenerate by using up the energy I gave them in the beginning. It’s a combination of greater energy efficiency as well as drawing in energy through the DNA. For example, I need little sleep and can go many weeks with just small amounts of food.’
‘When you say the cells regenerate, you mean they age and then grow younger again?’ Mimi asked.
‘In that particular case, the ageing process was essentially slowed to a near stop.’ Perun shook his head as Mimi opened her mouth. ‘No, I will not stop you ageing.’
‘Oh, come on! Why not? Could you really do it? Why didn’t I think of this before?’ Mimi bounced around in her seat.
‘Quiet! Yeesh…how am I supposed to think?’ Beth gazed at Galen. He’d always seemed very normal in his food and sleep patterns. ‘Can you go without food and drink, do you think?’
Galen shrugged, ‘Never tried. I love food. I know I can hold my breath for a really long time. I scared Rian once - I went for a swim and didn’t come up for twenty minutes. Didn’t know people can’t do that.’
‘Good Lord. And I remember you can’t swim, so I guess you don’t know your limits, do you?’ She asked Perun.
His mouth twisted, ‘Unfortunately, I do. My teachers tested me. They placed me in a cage at the bottom of a pool and waited till I lost consciousness. They’d use the others to revive me. I maxed out at about forty-five minutes. Never could improve on that, no matter what. So I know there are limits. Certainly for me.’
He frowned at the horrified faces around him. ‘What? Oh, the treatment? Hah, it was worst when they maimed animals or people to force you to practice your skills. My only regret is not acting sooner to escape - to take some with me. I never thought they’d destroy them. Many were just babies.’
Galen touched his father’s hand. Perun shook his head like a wet dog flinging away memories. ‘It’s not a mistake I’ll repeat. We will get out of here as soon as we’re ready.’
Beth shivered at the thought of Galen in an underwater cage. ‘I’m ready when you are. You’re the ones telling me we have to wait for the baby. I really don’t see why. You two are the best medical team the world has ever known.’
‘It’s not just about the baby. When we leave, every agency on the planet will be looking for us. We will have to hide, change how we look. We need to decide on what our new life will be, where, how we will manage the baby. Then there’s Khoen to consider. I hate to think what he’s up to.’
Beth’s heart clanged in her chest. She hadn’t heard his name in weeks. Had refused to discuss him, think about him.
‘We don’t even know if he’s alive. He might have suffered the separation as I did. He had no one to help him,’ she said.
‘Oh, he’s alive. We couldn’t get that lucky.’ Perun said.
‘Okay, cool it you two.’ Mimi sighed, ‘I propose we starting planning an exit strategy. There are only a few weeks left to the big arrival and we’ll need all the lead-time we can get. I’ll start taking note of the rosters and spot some of the weak links we might benefit from. In the interim we carry on as before, leading the researchers slowly down a harmless path. You still working with Doc Gravy on the Raising The Dead experiments?’
Galen nodded, ‘I’d like to stop soon. Dr. Graeves has moved from dead worms to mice and I have a feeling it’s going to get worse quite quickly now. I’ve stopped saving them as much. One little guy already died seven different ways.’
Beth frowned, ‘I’ll have a word tomorrow. Perhaps I can pull you off the project temporarily. Claim I need you for some of the physics research.’ She paused. ‘Can you guys make the pregnancy go any faster? You know, speed it up?’
Perun frowned. ‘I wouldn’t. It might be possible, but they track her development very closely. It’d just raise alarm bells.’
‘Stop talking.’ Galen stood, head cocked as though listening. ‘People are coming. Commander Decker and…others – strangers. One is dying. We’d better go quickly.’
The group sprang into action, shoving papers and computers away. Perun opened the door, just as the soldier pushed in.
‘Ah, so this is your hiding place.’ Decker’s gaze flicked briefly around the small meeting room before resting on Galen. ‘We’ve been looking for you for twenty minutes; we need your help. A man is critical and he must survive. His death is not an option. He’s just outside.’
‘Who is he?’ Beth stepped forward to buy time, her heart tripping. They wouldn’t be able to have another meeting anytime soon.
‘That’s classified. He’s suffering from stage IV pancreatic cancer that is now metastatic. Galen needs to fix it. We only have a few hours to get him back on his feet.’
They stepped into the corridor; a small group of men stood around a figure on a stretcher. The sick man didn’t move as they approached. Neither did his guards.
‘I need some space, please,’ Galen said. Decker shared a hard look with the man’s security and the way was cleared. As Galen knelt to touch the man’s face, a loud gasp made Beth jump. Mimi was staring with wide eyes at the grey features.
‘No way. Don’t help him!’ She yelled at Galen. Galen pulled back and looked at Beth.
Decker grabbed Mimi by the arm, ‘Shut up. We have no option.’
Mimi yanked her arm back. ‘Are you kidding me? He’s a mass murderer. He’s been butchering his people for decades. He deserves to die.’ She spun fierce eyes to Galen. ‘You mustn’t save him. He’s a tyrannical dictator. If he lives…oh my God if he lives for a long time, you’d be sentencing millions of innocent people to continued persecution and oppression.’
The chief guard spoke rapidly. Sounds Asian, Beth thought. Another guard drew a gun and pointed it at Mimi’s face. She responded with a violent outburst, clearly cursing the men. They recoiled, mouths open.
‘You sound like my grandmother,’ croaked the man in the cot. The attention spun to him. He was watching the scene through rheumy eyes, his smile a twisted grimace.
His gaze moved to Galen, ‘You are the healer?’
Galen nodded, and the man cursed under his breath. His focus sharpened as he peered at Galen’s face.
‘Do you think you can do it?’
Galen didn’t respond. Instead he turned questioning eyes to his mother. The man with the gun raised it, this time at Beth.
‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you,’ Perun commented.
Mimi and Decker spoke over each other.
‘Put the gun down or it’s over,’ Decker warned. The old man grunted and the guard lowered the pistol.
Decker turned to Beth. ‘President Guan is a key stabilising force in South East Asia. There is trouble and tension in the region that needs to be managed in the best interest of the USA as well as countries in that region. We can’t allow his main opponent to succeed him as he is a radical who has threatened to befriend North Korea and actively promotes anti-US and anti-western sentiment. President Guan has agreed to talks for initialising changes in his current regime in exchange for his treatment. We’re going to send in UN monitors.’
‘My ass! I’d sooner trust a rattlesnake. What’s your leverage once he’s healed and gone home? Nothing will change.’
‘Look, I’m not a politician, I’m a soldier and I have my orders. There is no ambiguity here. He must be healed.’
‘Or else?’ Perun raised an eyebrow.
Decker’s face hardened.
‘There would be serious consequences for this project.’
‘I’ll do it.’ Galen whispered. Beth looked at his serious expression.
I can no more tell him to refuse treatment than I could order him to kill. This has to be his call.
Galen placed his hand on the man’s forehead and abdomen. Only the president’s sharp breaths broke the silence. Nobody moved as the minutes ticked on. Gradually the twisted lips slackened in surprise. Galen removed his hands and the president slowly propped himself up on his elbow. His men helped him to his feet. He leaned heavily on one man, but colour had returned to his face. He stared at Galen with wonder, clear eyes gleaming.
‘What a powerful weapon you have here.’
Beth assumed he was talking to Decker. It was hard to tell, as he couldn’t pull his eyes from Galen.
‘Time to leave, Mister President. The helicopter is waiting.’ Decker’s tone brooked no argument as he gestured down the corridor. The president smiled warmly at the group around him. ‘Thank you my friends. I’m hopeful we might meet again someday.’ There was no response as he turned to hobble away.
As the lift doors shut Mimi spun to Galen, ‘Tell me you didn’t really heal him.’
‘I did.’ Galen raised his palms to ward off Mimi’s tirade. ‘He has a few months before it returns. If he’s true about changing I’ll heal him properly. If he isn’t, then I won’t. It also gives us time to leave this place. More will come.’
‘He’s right,’ Perun said. ‘I was regularly told to heal people who had paid my teachers. People in power get sick or have sick families they want to help. I think we need to make an escape plan.’ He paused, lost in thought for a moment. ‘I will test the plan first. If I succeed, which I’m certain I will, I’ll prepare everything on the outside for your escape.’
‘No,’ Mimi said. ‘Bad idea. It has to be all of you together, not one and then the rest. If you get out they will lock down the facility tighter than a gnat’s ass. They’ll never get out without a big fight.’
‘I think I can walk out of here without them knowing how. I can put people to sleep at a distance of over three meters. I’m certain Galen could learn to do it. Once the baby comes, and you have a handle on what powers she’s got, you can leave. Tell them I was angry about the president’s healing and just left. With the birth nearing they may bump up security, but I think you can convince them you have no interest in escaping. Just act as though my departure was an immature hissy fit.’ He smiled, ‘Beth should have no problem pulling that off.’
‘But…’ Galen chewed on a fingernail, ‘I don’t want you to go.’
Beth’s heart clenched. Perun slowly wrapped him in his arms, squeezing and lifting him up. He buried his face in Galen’s hair, heads pressed together. They stayed unmoving for long seconds. Tears flowed silently down Beth’s face. When will my baby get a break?
Perun slowly lowered his son. Galen’s face was serene.
She wiped her face and swallowed before risking her voice.
‘Let’s start planning tomorrow. We’ll have to change our get-togethers. Also, our research is getting us only so far. I need more help. There are so many sources of information, we must enlist more people to do the leg work. If we’re leaving, then I want all I can get from the guys here before we go. Right now, however, I’m hitting the sack.’ She turned to go then reached for the bag of food Mimi still carried. ‘You don’t mind do you?’
Mimi laughed. ‘Knock yourself out. I’d never have believed you could eat so much.’
‘Don’t laugh too hard, it’s not me that’s consuming. It’s the beast within.’ Beth smiled as Mimi choked and coughed. ‘See - I can do funny too.’
‘But it’s not funny!’ Mimi yelled after her.

The crackle of Doritos crunched across the empty Mess hall. Beth flipped through a thick tome. Wolfram is crazy, but right now I need crazy. She slapped the volume closed and glanced at her watch.
04:00.
I need to stop soon or my brain is going to cave in. She half-wished Galen were there to boost her energy levels, but Decker had called it a night a few hours ago and Galen had had to go with him. Since Perun’s quiet disappearance, he hadn’t left the boy’s side. It was farcical to think they could stop him, but appearances had to be kept up.
Beth smiled, remembering. No trace; just gone.
She sighed, shoved another chip in her mouth and stared at the vending machine’s juice bottles. Can I be bothered to get up? She rubbed her swollen abdomen. With only five weeks to go, she had to maximise the research time.
She considered the scattering of books around her. Information was her problem. There was too much of it. Maybe I’m trying too hard – like Wolfram says, despite the appearance of complexity, the base of a problem could be simple. If everything is just electric charges in a variety of forms, some of which we call matter, perhaps matter, with all it’s illusory qualities, is indeed generated from some sort of code. And the supersymmetry guy, James Gates Jr. found codes normally used to extract errors in digital communications - like email - in equations of fundamental particles.
Error-correcting codes in found particle physics?
Could atoms be reduced to code?
What exactly is code? Information.
No, code represents information. The symbols are tangible, but information isn’t. Beth’s tired eyes drifted shut but a light flared behind her lids. She grabbed some paper and carefully traced the image onto it.
μορφή
She squeezed her lids shut hoping more would come.
Nothing. Pah! She picked up the paper.
Greek numbers?
She grabbed her phone and took a snapshot. Within seconds the image was winging its way to Mimi. She’d been banished after Perun’s vanishing act, removed as an unwarranted liability. A beep bounced loudly about the hall.
Morphe – Ancient Greek. It means form, idea, shape. Why are you awake?
Beth slowly placed her phone on the table.
Morph, form. Morphing is transformation. Information, shaping, transforming. Her mind flashed jumbled thoughts that didn’t quite fit together.
‘Just stop!’ She groaned, rubbing her temples. She was abruptly exhausted. Slow down Irving, before you have a haemorrhage.
She flipped open a book. It was right where she remembered.
Informare
– the Latin verb meant to give form to the mind. Information gives form to the mind? Information shapes consciousness like a mould shapes clay?
Code is symbolic, meaningless without interpretation. It is the observer who assigns meaning to symbols. The potential meaning already exists in him. His consciousness gives meaning to new data by comparing it to previously perceived data stored in memory. It recognises differences or similarities between data experiences and processes them to extract new potential knowledge. It learns. It evolves?
Consciousness therefore is memory, awaiting experience, to enable learning.
Beth glanced at Wolfram’s fat book. Would it really only take a simple evolutionary algorithm? Kaufman called it “reality forming relationships with itself”. Am I really left with the Panpsychic perspective, ridiculed by good scientists everywhere? Beth sighed, shifting her weight from one butt cheek to the other.
What if I just look at the problem through an information-processing lens?
If I were Consciousness, a self-aware energy that could perceive nothing beyond itself - a cold shudder passed through her at such interminable isolation - I would turn inward…to change my unchangeable situation.
If I wanted to learn about being less than All, more than alone, I would have to create that experience. I would have to create what does not exist – that which is not I.
But where to begin? Differentiation.
Beth grabbed a pen and paper. The nib hovered over empty white space.
She drew a dot.
She stared for a long moment at the singularity.
All…alone.
She raised her pen and drew a short horizontal line alongside it.
Us.
Beth looked at the pair and again raised her pen. Below the dot she traced a circle. Next to it she drew a vertical line. She kept on going.
0101010101010101010101010101
We’d want every conceivable experience. We could do it all at once. No time, space or resource limits. It would require self-fragmentation into observers of every possible variety to witness every potential experience. New data would have to feed back to the source for analysis.
Perhaps that’s where the hierarchy comes in. There’d have to be a robust structure in the program to avoid chaos. A pyramid of conscious entities, each with an assigned algorithm, power limit and feedback loop into the level above.
If my objective were to partake in every possible experience, then I would want to know what it feels like to be a quark, a molecule, a star or universe and everything in between. These things must have some sentience. A way of collecting their experience and feeding it back into higher levels of consciousness.
Could the atoms the boys communicate with be lower-level consciousness entities? Sentient enough to choose cooperation, but limited in their wider choices.
Is willpower just a processing limit?
The higher an entity’s retrieval and processing capacity, the greater its apparent free will? What if there’s a deterministic mechanism in play for humans, an algorithm corralling our choices. Beth paused, recalling a research paper she’d read.
The Max Planck Institute…a brain scan experiment. It revealed a seven-second delay between a choice being evidenced in a human brain scan and the participant being consciously aware of making their decision. Seven seconds. We place so much value on free will, yet the subconscious is making all the decisions without us, and sending a memo. Beth smiled.
So if free will were limited by an underlying algorithm, what about entities that break the rules? Avireri, the twins, moving between consciousness levels, creating other entities. Are they breaking the rules by changing the algorithm somehow or just providing another pre-programed experience for consciousness? Maybe Consciousness doesn’t care what type of experience we provide as long as we keep feeding its memory banks, as long as we keep it evolving.
Beth scoured through the data she’d read in the last weeks. Memory had been a problem for neuroscience for a long time, mainly because it’s not one thing found in a particular place in the brain. It’s a construct, built from aspects of that experience.
There is no memory for
shower
. The symbols trigger associated aspects of the experience we label
shower,
to be retrieved from different parts the brain. The sound, the texture of water, temperature, feelings we experienced, associated meanings such as cleanliness and our value judgments about those. A memory is an amalgam of myriad impressions, coalesced and presented to the conscious mind as a distinct concept. And it’s still not clear how they’re stored in the brain.
Even after 50 percent of the brain had been cut away, Lashley’s rats could still remember tricks they’d been trained to perform, no matter which half of the brain was removed. There are flat worms that can regrow their brains when decapitated, yet remember past learning, suggesting memories possibly encoded in their non-brain tissue. Then there’s Jung’s collective unconscious.
Beth rubbed her eyes, tired of all the clues pointing to something she still couldn’t see.
So I can hypothesise that Consciousness might be a self-aware program scripting itself. An AI trying to answer the same questions we are or has it just passed its own unanswered questions down the line? Who am I? Where did I come from? Why am I here? What is my purpose?
Beth laughed as tears of frustration pricked her eyes. For the first time in her life she really felt like a minuscule lost little human with no answers.
No wonder the spirit entities don’t rate us. And what does it matter anyway? So what if we are all one entity trying to better understand itself? How does that help me today?
Guess I should stress less. Beth wrinkled her nose. What did Galen say? We’re here to experience love in the face of fear and ignorance. Great. Well the fear and ignorance part is working out pretty well so far. Love? Not so much. Except my love for Galen, which is the only thing keeping me sane. Khoen: a bizarre mess. Perun: a friend. The baby? Well, if she’s anything like Galen it should be a walk in the park.
She slowly piled her books up again. I’ll move them tomorrow…I mean later. She pulled back her chair and stood in a puddle. She peered down at the brown liquid and wondered where chocolate sauce had come from. The door at the far end of the hall smashed open. Galen’s skinny chest lifted with every gasp.
‘What?’
She hurried around the table.
‘Stop!’ He sprinted forward, palms raised. Decker came barrelling behind him.
‘What the hell are you playing at kid? You don’t race out of the room like…where’s the fire?’
Galen stopped in front of Beth and held his palm over her stomach.
Beth glanced down, perplexed. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘You have no pain.’ he frowned.
‘No.’
She gasped. Her shoes had left a trail from the other side of the table. Not chocolate - blood. Masses of it. A new pool had already formed at her feet. She could feel it now, soaking her pyjamas, sticky against her legs.
‘What the hell?’
Decker caught her as she stumbled backwards, instinctively moving away from the mess.
Pain crashed unseen against her pelvis with the force of a raging bull. She screamed. They grabbed her thrashing arms as she ripped at her clothes. Decker lifted her and laid her on the table, books flying in every direction like a brood of startled hens.
‘What’s happening?’ he barked.
‘I don’t know. Everything was fine. Then I felt the baby…dying. I have to help her.’
‘What can I do?’ Decker said.
Beth’s screams tore her voice. Galen pushed her straining head back against the table and his face smoothed in concentration.
‘Help me! Help her,’ she sobbed.
Galen wrapped his arms around her head. The agony eased as liquid calm washed over her and she clung to him. Thank God I have you, she thought. When he pulled back, Decker was staring at them.
‘We have to get her out,’ Galen said.
‘I hope you can pull this off kid.’
Galen swallowed.
Her panic rose in short fast gasps. He’d never been unsure about healing before. He placed his hands on her belly and the baby moved.
‘The crimson tide is rising over here. She’s going to bleed out.’ Decker swiped a sheet of blood off the table. Galen closed his eyes and Beth’s bones ached hot in her flesh. What…more blood cells?
‘Why is this happening?’
Galen’s pallor chilled her heart. His gaze skirted hers.
‘Something is trying to kill the baby.’
‘What?’
‘I feel it pushing me away when I try to help. It’s reaching from-’
‘Why? What would do that?’
‘She must come out now.’ Galen’s voice rose.
Decker lifted his gaze from all the blood, ‘you mean by c-section?’
Galen frowned at him.
‘Will you cut her out?’ Decker said.
Galen shook his head, clearly repulsed. He turned to Beth, ‘I’m going to ask your body to give her to me.’
‘What does that mean? What’s going to happen?’ Beth’s face was stiff with fear.
‘I don’t know.’
He placed one hand on her head and one on her belly. Decker stepped sharply back as it started to tremble. A cool numbness washed over Beth. She sensed her abdomen shaking, but there was no pain now. Her heart rate steadied as reality drained from the moment. Decker’s jaw dropped and he stumbled further away. The horrified fascination on his face forced her gaze to follow his.
Her taut skin bubbled and bulged like viscous fluid. A small foot pushed against the thin membrane, unable to break it. Galen stretched out his hand and the skin receded like smouldering paper, he reached carefully for the bloodied foot. The baby was expelled in one slow movement, like a splinter. Galen caught the slippery body with difficulty, clutching her to his chest. The twisted chord separated from her navel with a snap.
The only noise in the room was the short breaths pushing past Decker’s stiff lips. Beth couldn’t breathe. The unmoving bundle of blood in her son’s arms was like a noose around her neck. It pinched off her voice, her ability to move or think.
Galen pressed his forehead fleetingly to the small torso then passed the silent baby to Decker.
‘Keep her warm,’ he spoke calmly, wiped his bloodied brow and turned back to Beth’s gaping belly.
‘What’s wrong with her?’ she croaked. The room swam through her tears. Decker grabbed a tablecloth from a nearby counter and wiped the blood from the silent infant.
Galen frowned, his hands moving rapidly over Beth.
‘Nothing.’
‘Why doesn’t she cry? Or move.’
’Because she doesn’t want to. Don’t worry, she’s fine.’
‘Her skin!’ Decker held up the baby and Beth gasped. Her fear morphed into ugly confusion.
White hair, pink with blood, topped a face of spliced discolouration. The right side was pale pink, the left dark brown. A clean mid-line blurred on her forehead into a patchy honeycomb pattern that crawled into her hairline. Shock reverberated through Beth, melded with repulsion and solidified into shame at her reaction.