THIRTEEN

Several days pass before Qod and I speak again, and I sit the entire time watching the universe busy itself with the work of creation but not seeing. I have overcome my fear of Vieta after living the life of Soome, but I have not satisfied my appetite for answers. Who was Keitus Vieta? Why did Qod know nothing about him? Why was he … wrong?

“You said the aberrations appeared during the third cycle of the universe,” I say eventually. “And you found them when you started to check through the data just before this cycle?”

“Strictly speaking, the aberrations began toward the end of the first cycle after the Soul Consortium broke free from the universe,” Qod replies, as if we had been talking about it only a few moments ago, “but I didn’t detect them until the end of the third cycle.”

“So if Keitus Vieta first appeared in Soome’s life, his appearances in the lives of Orson Roth and Dominique Mancini must have happened in a later cycle. He must have survived the collapse of the universe somehow.”

“Unlikely.”

“Yes, but Keitus Vieta isn’t … right, is he? He’s different. Supernatural, paranormal, alien. He’s using science and technology in ways we’ve never conceived.”

“Mankind reached the limits of scientific understanding millions of years ago. There is nothing else to understand. Don’t fall back on paranormal explanations simply because we haven’t identified the cause.”

I sigh deeply and stare out into the inky depths. Perhaps Qod is right. And perhaps I’m entertaining these thoughts because I allowed fear to get the better of me. But I’m past that now. “Maybe I’ve been thinking too hard about this. If Keitus Vieta isn’t supernatural and he doesn’t have a file or an empty slot waiting for him, the aberrations must be the result of data corruption in the files. You yourself said you can’t find any evidence he exists other than the anomalies you’ve been finding in the files.”

“I already told you there was no corruption.”

“But there has been a change in people’s lives.”

“Yes.”

“The laws of physics haven’t changed. Lives should be the same in every cycle of the universe. There’s an equilibrium, a balance that keeps the configuration of matter and energy the same each and every time. So if it isn’t data corruption, something must have invaded the data. A rogue AI perhaps?”

“No. Like you, I am the last of my kind. Nothing has tampered with the data. I’d know about it. It is accurate.”

“Then how can there be aberrations? Where did Vieta come from? What is he?”

Silence for a few moments.

“There is no record of Keitus Vieta in the Consortium files.”

“So you keep telling me … but he is in there. Every time you find him, you label him as an aberration and move the file … Look, I need to understand how these files actually work. I know the founders of the Soul Consortium created all of this, but the real scientists behind it were kept secret. I need to be one of them, live one of their lives. Maybe then I’ll be able to understand what happened to create these aberrations.”

“I wondered when you’d get around to asking that question. You’ve been living within these walls and using the WOOM for trillions of years, incognizant of its real origins.”

“I’ve never needed to know until now, and you’ve never suggested it.”

She’s silent, as if thinking carefully before she answers. For Qod, a moment is a very long time. “That’s because the founders of the Soul Consortium are in the classified section, specifically the Restricted Sphere.”

“There’s only you and me here. Restrictions aren’t exactly necessary anymore. Who am I going to tell?”

“Not all of the restrictions are in place for security reasons. Some of them are too dangerous; they’ve been known to lead to insanity and suicide in the early days.”

“So is that the case with the creators of the WOOM?”

“Actually, only one person created the WOOM, and the same person is mostly responsible for the design of this entire facility.”

I digest that for a moment, roll the thought around, and consider what sort of intellect could be responsible. “Just one person invented this? This … whole place? I can hardly believe it.”

“Of course the creator had help, but the science was from one mind.”

“Someone with that kind of intellect would be well known.”

“The creator’s identity was kept secret to later generations. Indeed, the founders of the Consortium were placed in the Restricted Sphere for security purposes. Access to the creator’s life would mean knowledge of how to manipulate the data files. That kind of knowledge was deemed a significant threat to the safety of the Soul Consortium and anyone using the WOOM. So to protect the identity of one, all the founders were secured.”

“I can see why, but it really doesn’t matter now, does it?”

“No,” Qod admits.

“Then who was it? There were four million founders. Which one created all this?”

“The answer may shock you.”

“If you’re going to tell me that Keitus Vieta—”

“Of course not. I’ve already told you he doesn’t have a file.”

“Then why would the creator’s identity shock me? Tell me who it is.”

“Very well. It was subject 9.81713E+44, Oluvia Wade.”

My blood freezes. “Oluvia … Wade?”

“I warned you, didn’t I? But do you ever listen?”

“Oluvia Wade.” I say the name again, “Oluvia Wade.”

“Still interested in living her life? All five trillion years of it?”

I think about it for several minutes before answering. Perhaps I should have known it was her. Perhaps there is a good reason why I don’t recall her part in the creation of the Soul Consortium. The thought of living her life fills me with a terrible and sudden sadness. Her life was as tragic as it was magnificent, her reputation so exulted that she had even secured a place in The Book of Deeds. Though her name was never mentioned there, her titles were well known.

“Oluvia Wade,” I whisper.

“Yes, yes, Oluvia Wade, President of the Seventh Golden Reign, Butcher of the Terran Galaxy, the All-See, the Queen of Death. I take it you’re reconsidering?”

“There are some memories I prefer to keep in quarantine.”

“I thought so.”

“Get on with it. Quickly.”

“What?”

“Just do it. Before I change my mind. I have to do this if I want my answers.”

“Salem—”

“Just do it.” She knows I mean it. “But can you … split the life up? Five trillion years is too long. What if Keitus … ?”

“We discussed this. Keitus Vieta—if he even really exists—has been sitting on his hands for several cycles of the universe. You’re safe. And even if he is a threat, I’m Qod! Don’t you think I’d be able to stop him?”

“Okay, but we also discussed the rules and how they aren’t relevant anymore. I’m not interested in her full life experience, especially for someone who’s been alive for trillions of years. What’s important is getting a hold of the information I need, so will you do it?”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Why?”

“Well, which parts of her life do you want me to cut out?”

“I only want to see the parts relevant to the invention of the WOOM.”

“You know I can’t access the files in that way. I see summaries, and I don’t know at what stage of her life these things happen.”

“But there must be spikes in the data, patterns, timings, something recognizable for you to make a best guess. I thought you were supposed to be omniscient?”

“Almost omniscient. There are patterns, but I can’t see exactly what they are.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

Qod pauses. “Won’t.”

“Because of the rules?”

Another pause. “Oluvia Wade is … different. I—”

“Can you do it or not?”

“I’ll have to change some protocols but … yes.”

“Then do it.”