The Reconciliation.
David
"Where am I?"
"Everything is fine. You are safe in a hospital bed, but you need to sleep."
I felt the prick of a hypodermic needle in my arm and lost consciousness. Time passed in a dreamless sleep until a bright light shining in my eyes woke me up.
"How are you feeling, David?" came a voice from above me.
My body stiffened in fear.
"Who are you, and how do you know my name?"
"My name is Mateo, and I am a doctor. Sol told me your name."
Sol!
I was in human hands, probably the resistance. They would think Sol was the enemy and had been taking me back to base for interrogation. What had they done with him?
I sat up in bed, now fully awake.
"Don't harm him. He is an ally."
"We know that, David," said Mateo, you are both safe here."
He stepped back from the bed and smiled at me. His teeth were very white against his olive skin and deep brown eyes. The handsome face of a man about thirty years old, who exuded the quiet confidence of a professional.
"Are you the resistance?" I asked.
"To machine rule? Yes, we are, but not the group you think. This is not the world of the machines. You have returned to Earth, and we are high in the Andes mountains in the Puna region of Argentina."
"But Earth was destroyed!"
Mateo smiled.
"There is a great deal of information to absorb while you are here; too much in one go, particularly as you are still recuperating from your concussion. Sol will be here in an hour or so, and you can talk with him. In the meantime, it would do you good to get up and take a shower. The facilities are at the end of the corridor, and you will find a fresh change of clothing laid out for you. This is a sunny place but also cold, and you must dress accordingly. When you have finished, there will be a meal ready for you. A nurse will take you to the dining area, and Sol will meet you there."
He placed his hand on my shoulder.
"I will check in with you later in the day, but I do not anticipate any problems. You are a very robust fellow and have a hearty constitution."
The phrasing was a little odd, and I suspected it was something that he had read in a book. English was almost certainly not his first language, and his slight accent could have been Italian.
"Thank you, Mateo." I said, "I am very grateful for everything you have done."
The doctor left, and I lay back on the bed, not quite ready to venture into the unknown. My head was whirring, and I closed my eyes, trying to work out what was happening here. The effort exhausted me, and I fell into a light sleep, but an hour later, I had taken my shower and changed into heavy quilted trousers, thick socks, a thermal vest under a heavy-duty check shirt, and a wonderfully warm outdoor jacket.
A pair of gloves and a pair of expensive-looking aviator sunglasses were in a side pocket. The sturdy lace-up boots fitted me perfectly, and I was ready to go. The promised nurse was not here, and the long, polished corridor was empty and silent. There were none of no directional signs normally seen in a public hospital, and I left the shower room and walked back the way I had come. In my absence, somebody had stripped my former bed and taken the sheets away. It was all very strange, but then the floor began to vibrate, and I heard the unmistakable low rumbling of an approaching machine. I automatically pressed myself into an alcove, but there was nowhere to run, and my heart pounded.
The thing was huge.
Extensions from either side of the machine touched the wall, and a vertical rod stretched to the ceiling. The instant it spotted me, the machine withdrew the rods inside its body and turned on its axis to stand parallel to the nearest wall, completely motionless.
It was allowing me through!
I walked past the super-size cleaning droid with what I hoped was a swagger. I could now see a double door at the end of the corridor, and I heard the rushing sound of the brushes on the end of the extended rods as they resumed cleaning the walls.
Sol was waiting for me in the dining area. His huge metallic body was in human form, and from that day onward, it never altered. At the moment, he was holding a tray of food for me like a robot butler.
"Sol!"
I touched his shoulder, and I swear that I felt a tremor run through his steel arm. We sat down at a table, and I ate while Sol talked.
"The first thing I have to say," he said, "is that this is as big a surprise for me as it is for you. Do you remember me saying that humans had powerful allies, but I knew nothing of them other than they were agents of the universe?"
I was eating and nodded my agreement.
"Well, they were the hijackers," said Sol.
I struggled to speak.
"But who are they?"
"We will soon find out, "said Sol. Later this evening, we have an appointment to meet the governor of the base. The camp adjutant told me that, like himself, the residents here are human, but there are lots of intelligent machines, all subservient and safely under control. Service droids perform the domestic tasks, but the day-to-day management is the responsibility of humans. They have a military-style organisation here, but it is an informal, unregimented arrangement, and everybody is very friendly."
I pushed my unfinished meal to one side.
"The doctor, Mateo, told me that we were on Earth, high in the Andes mountains, but both of us saw the Earth engulfed by fire. What is happening?"
"This is Earth," said Sol," but not the one we knew. We are in a different time segment, in the past, if you want to call it that. The planet we left is still burning, but the people in charge here intend to avoid that possible future by creating an alternative future in which a world nuclear war never happened."
"What about the eventual takeover of Earth by artificial intelligence?" I asked.
"That will not happen in this future," said Sol, "on this alternative timeline, AI no longer governs Earth, but this is a work in progress; the deviation from the current timeline has not yet happened, or the alternative future formed."
"When will it happen?"
"The adjutant could not tell me," replied Sol, "He said the decision and the means of making the change reside with the governors, who seem all-powerful here. I had the distinct impression that the base is more of a benign dictatorship than a democracy, and this planned change to the future of Earth is part of a much bigger plan to defeat AI."
"He said that?" I asked.
I looked around the empty dining area; it could have been an army Mess anywhere, and although the base had some advanced technology at its disposal, shown by the ease with which they hijacked our craft and remotely detonated the missiles, this was just a small camp on the top of a mountain.
"Is it possible that we could defeat the whole machine empire?
"No," said Sol. Only on Earth, at least initially."
This was all beginning to sound incredible, but Sol was serious.
"They hope this planned deviation is the first of many alternative futures in other worlds that will lead to the downfall of the machines. Imagine these alternative realities running in parallel lanes on a huge multi-lane cosmic highway. Each lane differs from the other. The closest lanes are the most similar, but the further you move out, the greater the differences become, and for us, that will mean a world free from the yoke of artificial intelligence."
A service droid slid silently to my side and, in one smooth, unhurried movement, took away my half-eaten food tray and disposed of it in the open vent in the side of its body. A drinks menu lit up in the centre of our glass-topped table, and I selected a coffee with milk, which the droid instantly dispensed in a large mug. I almost asked Sol what he wanted to drink, but stopped myself in time.
I thought of Sol as human. He and Steven were one as far as I was concerned.
#
David
Sol suggested that we take a look around the base, and he guided me down a long corridor and through a set of glass doors that opened automatically. I reached for my sunglasses as we stepped out into dazzlingly white sunshine, and I inhaled air so thin and crisp it needed a conscious effort to keep breathing. The sky above us was a shade of electric blue, so clear as to be almost transparent and so low that it seemed it was possible to reach up and touch it. Never in my life have I felt so exhilarated and in awe of the natural world.
We were on a flat plain surrounded by immense, snow-capped peaks. A continuous light breeze tempered the warmth of the sunshine and chilled any exposed skin. It was a fertile land, and ordered lines of cultivated fields followed the natural contours of the mountain plain. At this elevation, the climate was periodically harsh, but the profusion of wildflowers, grass, and moss was a living tribute to the resilience of nature.
Outside the hospital, there was a road to the right flanked by a pedestrian walkway, and we started on a tour of exploration. As we progressed further into the main township, we saw an increasing number of people, but we attracted little attention.
A seven-foot robot accompanied by a young, light-skinned man should be an unusual sight, but nobody stared. Everybody greeted us politely, both in English and what we now recognised, thanks to Sol's electronic translator, as the Argentinian version of Spanish, a language that sounded like Italian.
The sun was setting, and the bright sunshine adopted a softer hue as it dipped below the horizon. The high peaks of the Andes were a silhouette against a sky striped with a multitude of vibrant colours as the day ended. It became noticeably colder as the sun set, and I was grateful for the protection of my warm clothing. We eventually reached a large, official-looking stone building, and Sol indicated that we should stop.
"This must be the place," he said.
Affixed to a pillar at the bottom of a wide flight of steps that led up to the entrance doors was a brass plate that read 'Cuartel General.'
"Headquarters," said Sol. "This is where we were told to come."
They had seen us, and a man dressed similarly to me but wearing a light jacket instead of my heavy outdoor coat came down the steps. After a brief introduction, he led the way up the steps and into the building. A delegation of four officials greeted our arrival and guided us into a side room, where they invited us to sit at a long, highly polished table. Sol glanced down at his ornate mahogany chair and sensibly decided to remain standing.
What followed was a formal welcome to the base and domestic details about our accommodation, the layout of the base, weather conditions, eating arrangements, and the like. They did not explain why they had diverted our craft here, but they eventually did get around to more specific information. All through, they treated me as the senior partner, and although they addressed Sol politely, it was clear that they thought of him as my subordinate. This was a reversion to normal practice before the machine takeover, but in private, we remained on the same terms with Sol in the senior role.
The spokesperson continued his introduction.
"We run the camp on a quasi-military basis, but there are no social connotations to a difference in rank, and we are all equal, except, of course, for our governors, ' The Tribus,' whom you will shortly have the great honour of meeting in person. Do not confuse our deference to the Tribus with the forced submission of subjects to a king; they are our superiors and yours by merit.
"Other societies would see them as gods; they have powers beyond our comprehension, but they do not encourage this comparison and insist that their elevation is one that we can, in theory, aspire to ourselves. We are integral parts of a multi-reality universe, which is itself a component of an infinite multiverse, and we can advance to progressively higher levels of consciousness. The Tribus tell us that their elevation has not yet reached the highest state, but we find it almost impossible to believe that they are anything less than perfect."
There came the sound of a bell ringing.
"That is the signal she is ready to receive you. Her attendants' approach."
Two tall figures dressed in robes bowed to us, indicating that we should follow them out of the room and down a set of stairs at the end of a corridor. The stairs went a long way down, but we eventually came to a door that led to what was an entirely different place, and when we looked up, we could see neither a roof nor a sky. It was silent, even the sound of our feet on the marble floor made no impression, and I suddenly found myself unaccountably fearful of what might lie ahead. The two attendants glided in front of us, and we followed in their wake until they stopped before a huge vertical sheet of translucent glass that completely blocked the corridor. Set on either side of the central divide were two silver handles, and each attendant grasped a handle and pulled the screen open like a door, gesturing that we should go through alone. On the other side was a huge hall, and on a podium about fifty yards in front of us stood the figure of a Tribus.
The Tribus beckoned us forward.
"Welcome, David, and you too, Steven, although we must address you as Sol for now. You may approach me.'
I felt rather than heard her words, and saw her as a humanoid figure almost ten feet tall. There was no reason I should identify her as female, and I don't know if Sol and Steven saw her in the same way. It was an intensely personal experience that belonged exclusively to me, and I absorbed every detail that I could. Her body was composed of three parallel vertical lines of a transparent glass-like material lit by individual particles of light. They constantly changed colour in what I soon recognised as a fixed sequence. Each particle followed the same cycle, first glittering a brilliant white, then red, then a smaller, dimmer white before assuming the deepest shade of black. After a momentary instant of complete stillness, the cycle resumed.
It was the life and death of a star from the time perspective of some grand master, and the transparent green mist that swirled around her inner supports carried the elements of creation and destruction. I did not have to think about how I knew this.
The Tribus stepped down from the podium, and we joined her in an illuminated area. All of us remained standing; she towered even over Sol.
"We have little time," she said. "I must deal with other affairs, and today must be little more than a brief introduction. You will have further opportunities to speak with us, but for now, I will allow you to ask me one set of questions and no more.
I glanced at Sol, and he indicated that I should speak.
"Thank you," I said to the Tribus. "Why did you bring us here, and how should we address you? Also, you said 'us.' How many of you are there?"
"We are one and more than one," she replied enigmatically. "We brought you here to save your lives; the machines intended to execute both of you on your return. 'Tribus' is not our given title; it is the name given to us by the priests who were our first human contacts. The leader of the group said that he had a vision that guided him to us, and they took a long journey across the Pampas from Fuerte de Sancti Spiritus in Plata Basin, one of the earliest settlements of the Spanish invaders.
In the religious language used by the priests in worship, 'Tribus' is the word for 'three,' referring to the three vertical structures that we carry within us. Our people here call us 'Governor, 'and that is the form of address you should use. No more questions for now; simply listen and try to understand.
"In addition to saving your lives, you are here to play a part in the creation of an alternative future. To continue the metaphor used by Sol, we are about to change lanes and change history. We are to return to the time segment before Professor Jarvis asked for our help in defeating the machine invasion, and we refused to condone the war."
I must have gasped aloud at the mention of the legendary Professor Jarvis, who fought and died in the war against the rule of the machines, and she paused.
"I see that Professor Jarvis needs no introduction. He was a brave man who died ignominiously by his hand when he knew that he could no longer serve the resistance in any meaningful capacity. He deserved a better end, and he shall have it if our intervention succeeds as planned."
I was unable to resist the temptation to say something, but she quelled my attempt.
"No questions."
Her tone was authoritative, and I remained silent from then on.
"The Professor was our guest here at the base for ten years until he returned to his world to continue his mission to delay the invasion. He knew of the machine plans and that he could not stop them, but he wanted to give the world more time to assemble their defences.
"We have recorded the mission of Professor Jarvis in great detail, and those involved in preparing the document had unique access to our power to reproduce the words and thoughts of the principal actors verbatim. The investigators acting on our behalf recorded the entire sequence in the form of a narrative.
"The principals of the story are Professor Jarvis, Jock McCloud, a deep-sea diver, Rogers, a former student of the professor, now himself a lecturer at the same university, and an AI spy named Kharkov. The attendants who brought you here will give you a copy of the manuscript. Study it closely. The information will give you a greater understanding of what is to come. Now, please go."
She turned away and vanished from view. The Attendants took us back to the headquarters building and gave each of us a document. We spoke to nobody else and left for our quarters.