There was silence.
They'd retreated into the library shell where thousands of floating
pods containing silent readers, books, manuscripts and debate teams
span around them in an intricate dance. The younger two were
adjusting to the various revelations made by the elder, wheareas he
had be silenced into childlike wonder, gazing adoringly at the moving
pods above and around them.
“It's fantastic!”
his murmur was barely audible, but she seized onto it like a life
line – reciting the facts about her world to enforce its normality
and overwhelm the confusion and doubt he had instilled.
“Each pod is an
aeroscaff court. From the outside they give a snapshot of what is
happening, partly for practical purposes so the librarians can
support users and the security team can maintain order for instance
and partly for social purposes since it was discovered that a world
of wholly private pods drove people into a kind of mental fever
spurred by isolation and so now in public gathering areas all pods
are transparent, which is nice. But it's also for aesthetic purposes,
because from the inside, every single pod looks onto the same view.
What we're seeing isn't really there – it's a projection of all the
other pods. Whenever you enter any public space you are automatically
allocated a pod. If you want to do anything or meet anyone you
programme it into the pod and your pod is merged with the relevant
space.”
“How on earth do they
do that?” His eyes were still focused on the projected images
surrounding them.
“Aeroscaff was
discovered in the mid 1800s. Similar to your Babbage, we were looking
for a communication tool that would give rapid communication to all
parts of the French empire. They had found a material which responded
instantaneously to a chemical input and when they made a wire of it,
the reaction at one end appeared at the other. They began to string
wires everywhere and discovered that large masses of aeroscaff
developed unusual properties – it basically acted as a scaffolding
structure for all of the microscopic organic matter in the area,
which would then bond with the aeroscaff and could not be removed.
They tried every chemical known at the time and eventually realised
it was better to work with the new material than to try and cleanse
it.
“Aeroscaff is
basically alive, but totally insentient. If it is sentient, we simply
can't communicate with it.”
“Oh.” All the
wonder and excitement had disappeared from him and his shoulders
slumped.
The younger Andy had
been gazing vacantly around, trying to assimilate the information,
but this sudden droop caught his attention. Both the younger were
watching the elder for his next revelation. It wasn't long in coming.
“It's all my fault.”
“What is?”
“All of it. The
development of this stuff, the end of the world, everything.”
“Are you sure? I
mean, that's quite a big claim.” Why that had been the thing to
trigger her scepticism she would never know; but although everything
else had seemed reasonable, the idea that this one man could have
that much power tipped her over the edge.
“Sadly, I'm sure.”
He sighed, but kept talking. “The cables you mentioned were the
last thing I showed the Bonapartist scientists. We'd used light and
infrastructure for so long, it was a simple thing for me to
demonstrate how a concussive force would appear instantaneously at
the opposite end of a metal tube, and I theorised it could be done
with light through a clear substance. Then I left and they must have
continued that research.
“As to the end of the
world... Well, it's this.” he gestured around, “all of it is
alive. It's the single largest living organism in the history of the
planet and it needs sustenance. You're feeding it everything you
produce, but it's nowhere near enough. For the last hundred years,
barely any of you have been outside the aeroscaff shell for long
enough to see it, but the material is sucking up all of the nutrition
needed by everything that can photosynthesise. The plants are dying,
and there is nothing in the soil that can revive them. Your
atmosphere is losing oxygen, and it's only because the aeroscaff is
storing enough oxygen for you that you're surviving. In a year the
aeroscaff begins to starve. It's big, so it doesn't die immediately,
but the outlying areas have noticeable problems.
“When the scaff
finally dies it collapses and crushes those within it. Those who have
tried to survive outside always fail because the second there is any
useful substance in the earth the aeroscaff leeches it out. The dead
aeroscaff seals the mass of humanity and – I'm not sure how, but it
briefly has a surge of life through digesting their remains. It's not
enough. In twenty years time, even the aeroscaff has disappeared,
presumably through some form of cannibalism.”
The three of them
looked outwards to the greatest library in one of the most beautiful
buildings that the most powerful empire in the world had ever
produced. As she looked she fantasised that she could almost see it
coming to the end of its life. Saddened she shook her head,
retreated, and looked back to the elder.
“So go back and stop
yourself fro showing them that. It can't be hard.”
“What's your name?”
“Melissa.”
“Melissa. Pleased to
meet you.” He made an old fashioned, courtly gesture towards her
and she smiled involuntarily. “I went back. It was one of the first
things I did. I wanted to avoid being caught by the French soldiers
right at the start. When I got there I found the inn I favoured and
waited for myself. I chatted to various people while I waited. After
a while I noticed that everyone ignored me. I became offended and
tried to hit the table while I hollered for attention. My hand went
straight through it.
“It took me a while
and a lot of experimentation to determine the cause, but I finally
realised. I could only exist in any one spot at any one time and when
I went to my earlier life... well, the earlier me was there first and
so his reality over wrote mine. While he was around, to all intents
and purposes I ceased to exist to everyone else. It was as though the
closer I came to the physical point in space and time that he
occupied, the less real I became. While I was around, nobody was able
to recall his existence. And when both of us were in the same place,
neither could perceive the other or communicate in any way. I can't
go back to talk to me because we're the same person. But I can come
here and talk to you, Andy, because we are different people, from
different worlds.”
“So why exactly are
you here?”
“I want to go home. I
can't do that because I destroyed my home when I created this
history. I can't change that. You can.”
“But then this world
will end and I will never have existed.”
“Yes, but this world
is ending anyway. Additionally – you and I have a get out clause. I
told you I don't know how I created it, or really how it works, but I
do know this.” He did the waving hands drawing imaginary pictures
thing again. “It's like every choice you make has a potential
outcome, and from then on, every choice that is made in response has
a potential outcome. Now imagine that each choice creates a potential
world – whatever choice you make, whatever you do, the device will
always make sure you are in a world where you don't die. The device
brought me here, now I know I can't die. I'll give it to you and it
should work the same for you.”
“So why didn't
Napolean take it and keep himself alive permanently?”
“It only worked for
me. Several soldiers were transported through the device to act as an
impassable barrier in one of the earlier campaigns They were
slaughtered. I've calculated that it's fixed on my genetic identity,
but I can't be sure. If I'm right, you share my immortality.”
He thrust the device
towards the younger Andy. “Here, give it a go.”
