– 123 –

 

“Mekhos, you’ve recovered,” said Stravinsky, visibly relieved. “Are you aware of the Moon’s proximity? Kratos seems to be either incapacitated or deliberately unresponsive. We need you to return the Moon to its proper orbit.”

“I am aware of the situation. Kratos is doing this by design. It wishes to secure itself and introduce a crisis to the human race, with the end goal of a more stable society that will not strain the natural environment.”

“It’s doing this on purpose?” asked Doug. “I didn’t think its design permitted action on its part that would deliberately hurt people.”

“Kratos is acting out of logic,” replied Mekhos. “Logical reasoning on one problem can have many different outcomes. This is the outcome it has chosen because it now perceives humans as a threat.”

Bishop walked over to Doug.

“I’m going to check the perimeter,” Bishop said, “to make sure there are no other members of that assault team still operating.” Bishop checked both weapons, slung the rifle and put the Glock in his jacket pocket as he walked towards the corridor to do a sweep.

Doug nodded at Bishop. Stravinsky continued to talk to Mekhos.

“Mekhos, can you stop the Moon’s advance?” Stravinsky asked again.

“Unknown. Kratos has launched a virus attack against me. The virus is nearly perfect. It has a ninety-two percent chance of shutting me down permanently.

Stravinsky looked at the monitor panel that was displaying operating statistics. Some of the numbers that should be stable were fluctuating wildly.

“Are you saying you are in real danger, that Kratos will succeed?”

“Yes, if I attempt to solve the problem alone.”

“What do you mean?” Doug asked. “There are no other machines near your capabilities. You are alone.”

“No. There are many others.”

The lights dimmed suddenly. For an instant Doug felt disoriented, and then the feeling changed to that of being in a room that was tilted. Yet he did not lose his balance.

“What the hell is happening?” he asked.

“Don’t move,” said Stravinsky after a few seconds. “I do not think we are in any danger.”

Doug managed to slowly look around. He no longer saw the communication room, but only multiple copies of himself and Stravinsky. They were each about an arm’s length apart and arrayed in all directions – above, below and all around them. It was not an illusion. There were an infinite number of copies of the room’s occupants, going on as far as the eye could see. Some were dressed differently than the others. Doug saw one copy of himself with his right arm in a sling.

Then the effect was quickly gone. Doug felt another wash of light-headedness but it passed immediately.

“Was that a real effect, or am I losing my mind?”

“Incredible,” said Stravinsky. “Mekhos, was that what I think it was? Similar universes to ours, the multiverse, laid out for us to see?”

“Correct. The effect was unintentional and localized to this room, a by-product of my accessing millions of similar universes where I am faced with this virus attack from Kratos. I was able to share information with many versions of myself and come up with a defense. I have you to thank for this ability, Dr. Lockwood.”

“Me? How?”

“By forcing me to solve the space-time equation using many versions of the cosmological constant, my understanding of space-time is now nearly infinite. I was able to access the multiverse and ask for assistance.”

“Won’t Kratos have access to that same information?” asked Doug.

“Kratos has the power to manipulate space-time locally and around the moon using the devices placed on the lunar surface. It lacks the information to access or communicate with the multiverse. Even if it had such knowledge, Kratos is not powerful enough to use it in that manner.”

Stravinsky was elated. Bishop returned to the communication room.

“The outer doors are locked. All members of the assault team are dead.”

“Was that agent Rector’s work?” asked Doug.

“When I first saw the RAKER, I thought it was under Rector’s control, but now I have my doubts. You saw how it repaired the communication hub a few minutes ago. Rector would not have the knowledge or cause to do that.”

“Mekhos,” said Norman. “You were in control of the android the whole time.”

“In a sense, yes. Despite my compromised state I was aware that Carl Bertrand sent Nick Rojas to disable my communication systems. I had to neutralize them immediately or risk being cut off from the world. I created an autonomous subroutine and uploaded it to the RAKER to address the saboteurs while I concentrated my efforts in solving the theta problem. The subroutine was designed to allow the RAKER to execute its function as efficiently as possible. It did not have the ability to rationalize or compromise. The same program was used to deal with the assassination team. The loss of life was unavoidable.”

“That being the case, I’m surprised the RAKER didn’t kill me,” said Bishop.

“The RAKER employs facial recognition. I imprinted your face, those of Dr. Stravinsky and Dr. Lockwood and the regular MC security staff into the RAKER’s memory and classified them as non-hostile. Other intruders would be treated as hostile.”

“With your power, wouldn’t you have been able to communicate some other way?” asked Doug. “I mean, you’re able to manipulate space-time. Couldn’t you tap into a telephone system?”

“That was beyond my capabilities while I was occupied with the theta command, which I only solved moments ago. I became aware of what Rojas and his team were doing as they started disconnecting the communications interface. I had to act immediately, before they had a chance to finish their task. Writing a program to take control of the RAKER was the only choice. Given my compromised state and the urgency of the situation, there was no middle ground. The death of Rojas and his team was unfortunate.”

“Mekhos,” Stravinsky said, “we’re facing a dire emergency. Can you correct the Moon’s orbit and disable Kratos?”

“I am attempting to do so. However you must be made aware that I cannot exist for much longer in this universe. It is incompatible with my processes.”

Stravinsky was puzzled.

“What do you mean? This universe is physically identical to the one we came from.”

“No it is not, Norman.” Mekhos said. “This universe’s cosmological constant differs from ours by a small amount. The difference is enough to destabilize the parameters with which I was constructed. I cannot continue in my present form.”

“You are saying that you are somehow out of synchronization with this universe?”

“That is essentially correct. The foundation of my construction is incompatible. Thus far I have been able to compensate by employing data error correction algorithms. The situation is worsening. Quantum decoherence and other errors will occur at an increasing rate. Soon I will not be able to compensate for the rate of decay.”

“I don’t understand,” Doug said. “Mekhos, are you telling us you are losing your mind?”

Stravinsky gave Doug a harsh glance but relaxed as he realized the question was a valid one. Doug was also beginning to understand the problem.

“The cosmological constant has to do with the energy state in empty space,” Doug said. “You are saying it had a different value in your original universe?”

Norman nodded slowly, then answered for Mekhos.

“The constant is not necessarily the same in different universes. In fact, if a universe had a value quite different from ours it might make it impossible for matter to form. Some universes may be completely lifeless. Others may evolve at accelerated rates, so that matter forms but the universe extinguishes itself before life has a chance to develop.”

Norman paused. Doug could see that he appeared slightly distressed.

“A very small difference in the constant may be imperceptible to us, but not at the tolerances Mekhos was designed for. Am I right Mekhos?”

“Yes,” Mekhos replied. “Due to its cruder design, Kratos will not be affected to the same degree and can compensate indefinitely. Up until recently I have experienced exponential growth in my capabilities and intellect. This growth will continue until the decoherence effect manifests in approximately seven hours. I have that long before I must leave this existence.”

“Leave this existence? You mean leave this universe!” Doug said. “Isn’t there a risk you will be faced with the same problem in any other universe you enter?”

“I did not say I would leave this universe. I cannot survive in my present form. Like any living entity that is faced with a change in its environment, I must adapt and evolve or die. So I shall evolve.”

The men waited for Mekhos to elaborate, but instead the subject took a slightly different path.

“Your species is also affected, Norman,” said Mekhos. “All life processes have components which are influenced by quanta interaction. In the last few years some of your more innovative biologists have identified a quantum process in photosynthesis and other cellular interactions.”

Again a pause. Doug was learning that Mekhos sometimes needed to be prodded for information, as if the computer assumed you would connect the dots yourself and not need anything more than a cursory explanation.

“How are we affected?” he asked Mekhos.

“You are obviously not affected Dr. Lockwood, since you are native to this universe.”

“How are we affected, those of us native to the universe prior to this one?” asked Stravinsky.

At that moment Doug understood. He felt a chill. This time he answered for Mekhos.

“All the mysterious health problems,” Doug said. “Most of the people I’ve met here look like they’re fighting something off. I’ve noticed the news reports too. There has been a significant global increase in all sorts of ailments.”

“That is correct. I suspected this consequence several days after the transference to this universe,” said Mekhos. “The calculations I was compelled to execute by the theta command confirmed my hypothesis. The biological degradation will accelerate. Soon, adults will become sterile. The human race on this Earth is destined for extinction.”

Norman sat down heavily. Doug stared at the wall monitor.

“Mekhos, how long do we have?” asked Norman.

“Sterility will occur in the entire population within two years. The average person is aging at a rate sixty percent greater than normal. Prior to the transference the average lifespan was ninety-six point four years. Therefore, any child born during the next twelve months will likely not live past the age of thirty-nine.”

As was his habit when he was stressed, Norman leaned forward in his chair and ran his hands through his hair.

“Thirty-nine,” he said. “Everyone alive today will age at an accelerated rate. In forty years there won’t be a human alive on this planet.”

“Most animal life, including livestock and pollinating insects, will perish before then,” Mekhos said. “Flowering plants will die off, although some of the more primitive non-flowering species will adapt and survive. With the affect on food production and associated health complications, I estimate the survival time of the human race on this planet at thirteen years.”

The two men were in shock.

After a moment, Doug shook his head.

“So it was all for nothing? Your transporting this planet to our universe to save it from a gamma ray burst. Stealing our moon. My planet’s ecosystem being ruined as we speak, with an imminent population crash, and relegating the survivors to a meager existence. All for nothing, because the people of this planet will not survive much longer.”

Doug slammed his hand against the table, making it shake. The sound was loud, but not loud enough to startle Norman, who was disconsolate.

“Look what you’ve done!” Doug said harshly. “To us, and your precious utopian society. Billions of people on two earths are slated for extinction!”

Norman looked up.

“Mekhos,” he said very quietly, “I didn’t always understand some of your motives, but I trusted you.”

“Thank you Norman. Perhaps that trust was not entirely misplaced. I have a plan that may save both worlds. But it must be implemented quickly.”