The Raft: A Novel (41 page)

The only person who struggled to accept what had happened was Quon. He became increasingly detached. Erratic, even. Initially he was convinced they were still in a simulation. He said he had evidence to prove that this was so.

For some reason, who knows how or why, Quon could now hear what people were thinking. He could read minds. Shen disbelieved this claim at first, of course, until he discovered that he too had the ability. Possibly, they deduced, the result of a new capacity to manipulate quantum entanglement. They knew what the officials and scientists had planned for them. They could hear every conversation, not only when they were in the same room as others, but behind every closed door too. At first, Shen said, it was difficult to control their listening—whisper would stack upon whisper—but in the end they became better at it. They could select the mind they wished to read. They could even read each other’s minds. And that was how they learned what was in store for them. They would never be released from the compound. Huang Enterprises had no intention of allowing them back into the world. They would never have normal lives. They would continue to be tested, probed and dissected, until—as with anything stripped of its worth—they were ultimately discarded.

Their nights in confinement were long and sleepless. Their days were filled with endless examinations, though they mentioned nothing to the scientists of their new abilities. The astronauts had occasional contact with each other, but soon that too was taken from them. They’d once imagined returning to earth as heroes, pioneers, idols; instead they were kept in solitary confinement like prisoners, or specimens trapped under glass.

One night, Shen was lying on his bed in his small room, thinking about his wife, when a voice slipped into his head. It was Quon, communicating telepathically with him from the room next door. Quon said something had come to him in a dream. He’d figured out the purpose of their arrival back at earth. He said that somehow there were new ideas being channelled into his mind from somewhere far away, and that everything was now clear to him.

They were destined for something greater, Quon said. They were part of a plan. It didn’t take much for Shen to understand what Quon meant, because he too had begun to feel the same way: they were part of something bigger than themselves, something impossibly grand. They had to fulfil this plan, but in order to do so they had to find a way out of their holding cells. Break out.

There was something else they had learned in snippets of thought gleaned from the scientists’ minds. At some point Chang’e 11 hadn’t been lost within
this
universe, but had passed through a wormhole into another universe. A universe very similar to our own. This universe had topographical familiarities, planetary systems and constellations, but earth in this second universe was very different. It was precisely like our earth, except, they figured out, at an advanced stage of its own evolution. This second reality had once been the same as our own, but over time, life there had evolved to a point of collective consciousness. A noosphere. Simply put, the earth had evolved to become a single, sentient thing. Floating on its orbit around the sun but operating as one massive brain.

This sentient earth had extraordinary abilities, Shen explained. It had thoughts and a will of its own. As Chang’e 11 had passed through the event horizon—that point of no return—and into the universe of this sentient planet, the planet became aware of its existence. It drew Chang’e 11 towards it. This second sentient earth had created the simulation, to lure Chang’e 11 and the crew. It wanted to know what they were, to learn from them. It learned they had come from another earth in another universe—a less developed earth, but earth none the less. Despite everything this advanced planet was capable of now doing—manipulating matter as well as its own trajectory, downloading memories and playing them back—it had never encountered life from a parallel universe. It was fascinated by the astronauts’ arrival, intrigued by their existence.

And that was why their host decided to send them back—to
this
primitive and divided earth. It had a task for them. It sent them back with a package which was to be delivered to mankind, a package of enormous importance. The package, buried within the minds of the astronauts, consisted of nothing but a single, powerful thought. A thought that could be passed from person to person like a virus.

Shen deduced that their new ability to read peoples’ minds was the delivery system of this viral thought. The plan, it turned out, was for the astronauts to arrive here, spread the thought into the minds of men, women and children—every conscious soul on the planet, really—and by so doing accelerate human evolution.

This might be a lot for you to take in.

It was for me. Perhaps we should have another whiskey. I’m not even human and I can understand the gravity of such an idea. This is what Shen knew—what Quon and the other members knew. But of course it’s not how things turned out.

Shen and Quon

T
he robot father took a moment to ease himself into the next part of the story. He drank his whiskey and looked out into the dark wet night.

“Quon,” he said finally. “Quon was the one who realised he could steal people’s memories. Not only that, but he could claim those memories for himself. He could use someone’s own memory against him. The first time he tried this was on a guard who came into his holding cell. Quon took the guard’s thoughts, memories—his entire identity, really—and walked right out while the man stood there in a zombified stupor. Quon did this to everyone he saw—anyone who attempted to approach him. He sucked their minds dry. Then he went to the rest of the astronauts, unlocked their doors, and set them free. Shen left the cell with Quon and the rest of the crew and escaped the compound. A clean and simple getaway. Not a single soul was able to stop them. Quon manipulated a man into driving them away from the site, and they got as far they could.”

The robot sat forward in his seat. Gideon and I leaned forward too, entranced by the tale we were being told. As he spoke, all my unanswered questions played through my mind. The glowing ball in the sky—the one in our dreams—had that been that second earth, trying to make contact with us?

“They tried to find their way to their homes,” Father continued, “but they had no homes. Their families had either died or moved on. Earth was a relic, forty years out of time, the museum of a place they used to know. Upsetting, as you can well imagine. Some of them handled it better than others, but Quon was entirely indifferent to the news of his dead wife. He felt nothing, Shen said. Quon no longer entertained what he called ‘infantile emotions’. Instead, he became obsessed with taking memories, saying that they empowered him. He acquired an incredible wealth of new knowledge because of his ability. New ideas. Feelings. Dreams. Secrets. The complex identities of total strangers became his to do with what he wished. Though the rest of the crew could do the same thing, they knew how inherently dangerous it was to indulge in such parasitism. They tried to talk him out of taking any more memories, but Quon wouldn’t listen. He didn’t see it that way. To him, this was no longer the world he’d once cared about. Everyone had moved on without him, so why should he care?”

There was a rap on the conservatory door. Mother was standing there, smiling, holding a tray.

“Sorry to disturb you gentlemen,” she said. “I’m shutting down for the day, and I thought I’d bring some tea to flush out all that awful whiskey before bed.”

Father smiled warmly at Mother as she put the tray on the table between us.

“Tea’s the horrible stuff,” Father said. “It’ll rust your insides.”

Mother kissed him on the cheek, wished him goodnight, and turned to us.

“There are clothes on the beds in the spare room. They used to belong to Shen. I don’t know if they’ll fit, but see what you can do. Good night, Gideon. Goodnight, Kayle.”

We thanked her, wished her goodnight, and she left the room. Father sighed as he watched her go, then settled back in his chair.

“Shen went back to his old apartment but there were other people living there,” he continued. They knew nothing of his wife, Hua. He tried to find her telepathically, but came up with nothing. She was dead. Buried somewhere, probably. He was alone. So he left that city and travelled a great distance before coming here. He found this house abandoned and fixed it up. After that, he made us. He made me first. He used his engineering skills to build me, and his new knowledge of the mechanics of the mind to infuse my molecules and matter with … well, consciousness. He gave me a wife and then my children. I suppose we became the family he always wished he could have had. I’ve been under no illusions. I’ve known that since the beginning.”

I finally understood why it was these robots behaved like humans. The fact that they wore clothes and ate regular food was all part of Shen’s plan. A plan to live as normal a life as he could with as normal a family as he could create. These robots were designed to love and be loved. We’d only been there a night and I was already forgetting they were machines at all.

“Shen and I were brothers, I’ve always believed,” Father said. “He was a human, I’m a machine, but those are trivial details. We were family.” He gestured at the table. “Please, help yourself to tea.”

I poured a cup and handed it to Gideon, and then poured one for myself.

“My wife and I were designed to exist as is. We can’t grow old, or change … or evolve, but Shen was kind enough to give my children those capabilities. They’re self-replicants, you see. The first two of a kind, I believe. They’ll learn and grow and one day, they’ll become adults. They’ll have to choose their own paths. Many parents believe their children are unique, but I’m proud to be able to say mine truly are. One day they’ll make their way into the world on their own. They’ll have to fight to be accepted and respected, I suppose. Just like everyone else. In the meantime, we’re doing our best to prepare them for that day. You can understand,” he said.

“I can,” I replied.

“For a time,” Father said, “we were happy. Shen was happy. We lived here together and we did our best. But this didn’t last. Things changed. Shen began to wake from terrible nightmares, screaming, increasingly disturbed by something he was seeing. My wife and I tried our best to find out what was wrong. And for a while he wouldn’t tell us.”

The rain had stopped but there was low, faraway thunder. My tea was growing cold and I took a sip before putting the cup back on the table.

“One night he told us. He was shaking. My wife wrapped him in a blanket and seated him in that very chair. After he had calmed down, he told us that he had seen Quon in his dreams, what he was doing. Quon was plotting something terrible, he said. Quon had realised that the nine astronauts had each been given a portion of this ability to read and steal thoughts. They had come back to earth connected. And, this is the truly frightening part, Quon had learned that by taking their lives, he could assimilate that part of them. Quon was hunting down the astronauts, murdering them and acquiring their portion of the power. Shen said that he’d seen Quon do it, go from one astronaut’s home to the next, kill them each off. Shen could see it all, from Quon’s perspective and the victim’s.

“With every death Quon was becoming more powerful. So powerful, so impatient, so hungry for more knowledge, more memories, more feelings and secrets and identities, that he could no longer contain himself. In one dreadful sweep Quon took it all. Every memory of every human soul on this planet. It happened in a single wave, stretching across every corner of the globe. Instead of sharing the one viral thought that would have bound men, women and children to each other, he did the exact opposite—he stole it all for himself. The accumulated wealth of knowledge and skills and memories and abilities of the human race. In the end, it was Quon who caused the event you have come to know as Day Zero.”

I sat back in my seat. Father said nothing, waiting for us to digest his words. I could barely comprehend what I was hearing.

Billions of memories. Billions of lives.

One man.
One man had them all.

“But there’s something else,” Father said. “Something I don’t want to tell you. It wouldn’t be right. I
could
tell you, but I think it would be better if you simply saw it for yourselves.”

“What?”

Father looked anxiously towards the door and sat forward. “I can show one of you,” he said, “if you wish to see it. It will not be easy, I must tell you outright, but I think it would be better.” He looked at me directly. “You have a mission, yes? A mission to find your son. But after I show you this, you will realise there is more to your mission than you know. Are you prepared to see it?”

I looked at Gideon, and he nodded.

“All right,” I said. “Show me.”

“Lean forward.”

The robot lifted his arm in the air above the table. His palm opened and his fingers became rigid claws.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“Ready for what?”

“I must apologise in advance if my perceptions and opinions of the events were … rudimentary. I wasn’t quite as, well, mentally developed at the time. I assure you, however, the record of events is entirely accurate.”

“I don’t follow,” I said. Father didn’t explain himself. His hand came down over the top of my head and clamped on my temples and forehead. A charge rippled through my brain and a bright white light emptied the world.

Father

I
wish I could do more for Shen. He’s sitting at his desk. When last did he eat something? When last did he sleep? He is worried about something terrible happening. I know it.

“Father.”

I look down. Son.

“Hm?”

“May we watch a movie?” he asks.

“Have you done your chores?” I say.

“Yes,” he says.

“Very well. Watch something your sister will also want to watch.”

“Aw,” he moans. I give him my serious eyes. He understands and smiles. I pat him on the shoulder and he leaves my side. I walk into the study room. Shen is sitting and staring out the window. I wonder what he is staring at. There is nothing out there but mountains and road. The sun is going down. It will be night in less than one hour.